Meg Cabot - Princess on the Brink

Oh. The limo’s here.

I’m going to see if we can go through the McDonald’s drive-through on the way home. Because I think the only thing that might make me feel even slightly better is a Quarter Pounder.

With cheese.

Friday, September 10, 7 p.m., the loft

When I got home, Mom and Mr. G were just getting ready to order dinner. Mom took one look at me and was like, “Bedroom.Now ,” because Rocky had pulled all the pots and pans from the kitchen cupboards and was banging on them (a trait he no doubt inherited from his father, whose drum set still has a prominent place in our living room).

So I dragged myself into my bedroom and collapsed onto my bed, startling Fat Louie, who was so surprised when I landed on him, he actually hissed at me.

But I didn’t care. I think I have dysthmia, or chronic depression, since I have all the symptoms:

Emotional numbness

Perpetual, low-level melancholy

Feeling of merely going through the motions of everyday life with very little enthusiasm or interest

Negative thinking

Anhedonic (unable to savor or enjoy anything; except cheeseburgers)

“Your father tells me you were sent home from school in the middle of the afternoon,” Mom said, after shutting the door, so that the sound of at least some of the banging was lessened. “And I understand from Lars that you went to the airport to try to say good-bye to Michael.”

“Yeah,” I said. Seriously, I have zero privacy. I can’t do ANYTHING without the whole world finding out about it. I don’t know why I even try to keep anything secret. “I did.”

“I think that was the right thing to do,” Mom said. “I’m proud of you.”

I just stared at her. “I missed him. His flight had left already.”

Mom winced. “Oh. Well. You can still call him.”

“Mom,” I said. “I can’t call him.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course you can.”

“Mom. I can’t call him. I kissed J.P. And Michael saw me do it.”

Now it was Mom’s turn to stare at me. “You kissed your best friend’s boyfriend?”

“Actually,” I said, “Lilly and J.P. broke up today. So he’s her ex-boyfriend. But yes.”

“And you did this in front of Michael.”

“Yes.” I’m not sure the Quarter Pounder with cheese was actually the best idea. “I didn’t mean to, though. It just sort of…happened.”

“Oh, Mia,” Mom said with a sigh. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know,” I said, tears tickling my nose. “I’ve completely ruined everything with him. He’ll never forgive me. He’s probably glad to be rid of me. Who wants a crazy girlfriend?”

“You’ve been crazy since Michael met you,” Mom said. “It’s not like you’ve gotten any noticeably crazier.”

The thing is, I knew she wastrying to be encouraging.

“Thanks,” I said, through my tears.

“Look,” she went on. “Frank and I are ordering from Number One Noodle Son. Do you want anything?”

I thought about it. The Quarter Pounder really wasn’t sitting all that well. Maybe what I needed was some more protein, to help keep it down.

“I guess some General Tso’s chicken,” I said. “And orange beef. And maybe some fried dumplings. And how about some spare ribs? You guys always look like you’re really enjoying those.”

But my mom, instead of looking happy that she didn’t have to order a vegetarian entrée that no one but me was going to eat, looked concerned.

“Mia,” she said. “Are you really sure you want to—”

But I guess something in my face made her change her mind about finishing that statement, since she just shrugged and said, “All right. Whatever you want. Oh, and Lilly called. She wants you to call her back. She said it’s important.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

Mom opened my bedroom door—BANG! Giggle. BANG! BANG!—and left. I stared at the ceiling for a while. On Michael’s ceiling, in his bedroom back at the Moscovitzes’ apartment, there are glow-in-the-dark constellations. I wondered if he’d put glow-in-the-dark constellations on the ceiling of his new bedroom. In Japan.

I leaned down and picked up the phone and dialed Lilly’s number. Dr. Moscovitz picked up. She said, “Oh, hello, Mia,” in a not-very-warm voice.

Yes. My boyfriend’s mother hates me now.

Well, she has a right to.

“Dr. Moscovitz,” I said. “I’m sorry about—well, everything. I’m a huge jerk. I understand if you hate me.”

Dr. Moscovitz’s voice warmed up a tiny bit.

“Oh, Mia,” she said. “I could never hate you. Look, these things happen. I—well, you and Lilly will work it out.”

“Right,” I said, feeling fractionally better. Maybe I didn’t have dysthmia after all. I mean, if I could actually feel something. Besides bad. “Thanks.”

Except…did she say “you andLilly ”? She must have meant “you and Michael.”

“Um,” I said. “Is Lilly there, Dr. Moscovitz? I’m returning her call.”

“Of course, Mia,” Dr. Moscovitz said. And she called for Lilly, who picked up the phone and said, without preamble, “YOU KISSED MY BOYFRIEND????”

I stared at the phone, totally confused. “What?”

“Kenny Showalter says he saw you kiss J.P. outside your Chemistry classroom today,” Lilly snarled.

Oh, God. Oh. My. God.

The Quarter Pounder with cheese moved up my throat a little more as complete and total panic gripped me.

“Lilly,” I said. “It wasn’t—look. It wasn’t what Kenny thinks—”

“So you’re saying you DIDN’T kiss my boyfriend outside your Chemistry classroom?” Lilly demanded.

“N-no,” I stammered. “I’m not. I did kiss him. But just as a friend. And besides, technically, J.P. is your EX-boyfriend.”

“You mean like you’retechnically my ex-best friend?”

I gasped. “Lilly! Come on! I told you! J.P. and I are just friends!”

“What kind of friends KISS each other?” Lilly demanded. “On the mouth?”

Oh my God.

“Lilly,” I said. “Look. We’ve both had a really bad day. Let’s not take it out on each other—”

“I haven’t had a particularly bad day,” Lilly snapped. “I mean, sure, my boyfriend dumped me. But I also got elected as the new student council president of Albert Einstein High School.”

I actually sat up upon hearing this. “You DID?”

“That’s right,” Lilly said, sounding very self-satisfied. “When you ducked out of school on account of your little tummyache, Principal Gupta said you disqualified yourself from the race.”

“Oh, Lilly,” I breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lilly said. “I asked Principal Gupta what would happen if no one ran—you know, to the student council. And she said Mrs. Hill would just have to preside over it. Well, you know how THAT would turn out: We’d be selling candles from here to Spring Break. So I asked Principal Gupta if I could run in your place, and she said, seeing as how there were no other candidates, she didn’t see why not. So I gave your speech. You know, the one about all the things people should do in the event of catastrophes? I guess I embellished a bit. Nothing TOO much. Just, you know, a few bits about supervolcanoes and asteroids…nothing major. People were too afraid NOT to vote for me. They held the vote last period. And I won. Well, over fifty percent, anyway. I KNEW this freshman class would respond to fear, and fear alone. It’s all they’ve ever known, after all.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s great, Lilly.”

“Thanks,” Lilly said. “Although I don’t know what I’m telling YOU for, since you didn’t help in any way. You are not my vice president, by the way. Perin is. I don’t need a boyfriend stealer as my vice president, OR as a friend.”