Meg Cabot - Forever Princess

“No, it’s not,” I said, patting him on the shoulder some more. “Now, are you going to call her?”

“Mia,” J.P. said, his expression stricken. “I’m sorry. But I thought if you knew the truth about Lilly, you’d never—”

I held up my hand to indicate he should say no more. Really, you would think a man of the world such as he would know better than to keep trying to get me back when I had made it so clear I was done.

I wondered how much of his reluctance to call Stacey was rooted in the fact that she isn’t really that famous. Yet.

But I decided this thought was ungenerous of me. I’m really trying to be more princesslike in my thoughts and actions.

I also wasn’t trying to let my gleefulness over the situation show. You know, that even though my prom was a total bust, I’d gotten my best friend back, and I hadn’t been a bit in love with my prom date, with whom I was breaking up, in the first place.

I tried to keep a solemn expression on my face as I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him.

“Good-bye, J.P.,” I whispered.

Then I hurried away before there was any chance he could start begging, which is so unattractive in a suitor (well, so Grandmère says. It hasn’t happened to me…yet. But I had a feeling it was about to).

And as I was hurrying, I flipped open my cell phone and made a quick call to the Royal Genovian lawyers. Their offices weren’t open yet, because it was only seven in the morning, Genovia time.

But I left a message asking them to put a cease and desist on J.P.’s play, or whatever they had to do in order to prevent it from ever getting made into a movie, or even a Broadway show.

I mean, I know I was princessy and gracious during our breakup. And I do completely forgive what J.P. did to me.

But for what he did to Lilly? He’s going down.

He really ought to have remembered that several of my ancestresses are known for strangling and/or chopping off the heads of their enemies.

It was as I was putting my phone away that I crashed right into Michael.

Yes,Michael.

I was totally flabbergasted, of course. What wasMichael doing at the AEHS prom?

“Oh my God,” I cried. “What areyou doing here?”

“What do youthink I’m doing here?” he demanded, rubbing his shoulder where I’d banged into him, handheld plastic tiara prongs first.

“How long have you been standing there?” I was seized with a sudden panic he might have overheard what J.P. and I had been discussing, vis-à-vis Lilly. On the other hand, if he had, surely there’d have been a murder already. J.P.’s, to be exact. “Wait…what did you hear?”

“Enough to make me feel nauseous,” Michael said. “Nice move with the call to the lawyers, by the way. And is that really how you guys talk to each other?” His voice rose into a falsetto. “You know what I think you should do? Call Stacey Cheeseman. I think she has a total crush on you.” He lowered his voice again. “Cute. What does that remind me of, exactly? Hold on. Wait, I know…Seventh Heaven—”

I grabbed his arm and dragged him around the corner, well out of earshot of J.P. (who hadn’t yet noticed a thing, because he’d already gotten on the phone with Stacey).

“Seriously,” I said, dropping Michael’s arm when we were far enough away. “What are you doing here?”

Michael grinned. He looked so cute in his black Skinner Box T-shirt with his messed up hair, and his jeans fitting him just right. I couldn’t help remembering all that making out we’d done yesterday. It came back as such a visceral memory, it was almost like a punch.

Of course, that might have been because I’d also gotten a big whiff of him when I’d crashed into him. That major histocompatibility complex is strong stuff. Strong enough to knock a girl out, practically.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Lilly told me a couple of days ago I was supposed to show up here and meet you by the elevators at around midnight. She said she had a feeling you were going to need, er, my assistance. But you seemed to be handling the situation just fine, if that whole ceremonial giving-back-of-the-ring thing was any indication.”

I could feel myself turning bright red, realizing what Lilly must have meant. Having overheard my conversation with Tina in the girls’ bathroom at school about my getting a hotel room with J.P. tonight, Lilly had sent her brother down here to stop me from doing something she knew I’d regret…

Only she hadn’t told him exactlywhat he was supposed to be stopping me from doing. Thank God.

Lilly reallywas a friend, after all. Not that I’d ever doubted it. Well, very much.

“So are you going to tell me why Lilly felt my presence was so urgently needed here tonight, anyway?” Michael wanted to know, as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

“You know,” I said quickly. “I think it’s because she knew I always wanted to spend my senior prom with you.”

Michael just laughed. Sort of sarcastically.

“Lars,” he called over the top of my head, to my bodyguard. “Tell me the truth. Do I need to go back over there and turn J.P. Reynolds-Abernathy the Fourth into cream of wheat?”

Lars, to my total mortification, nodded, and said, “In my opinion, most definitely.”

“Lars!” I cried, starting to panic. “No. No! Michael, it’s over. J.P. and I just broke up. You don’t have to hit anybody.”

“Well, I think maybe I do,” Michael said. He wasn’t teasing, either. There was no smile on his face as he said, “I think maybe the earth would be a better place if somebody had turned J.P. Reynolds-Abernathy the Fourth into cream of wheat a long time ago. Lars? Do you agree with me?”

Lars looked at his watch and said, “It’s midnight. I don’t hit anyone after midnight. Bodyguard-union regulations.”

“Fine,” Michael said. “You hold him down, and I’ll hit him.”

This was terrible!

“I have a better idea,” I said, taking Michael by the arm again. “Lars, why don’t you take the rest of the night off? And Michael, why don’t we go back to your place?”

Just as I’d hoped, this completely distracted Michael from his Kill J.P. Death Mission. He stared down at me in shock for nearly five seconds.

Then he said, “That sounds like a completely excellent idea.”

Lars shrugged. What else could he do? I’m eighteen and a legal adult now.

“I am fine with this idea, too,” he said.

And that’s how I ended up in this limo, speeding downtown to SoHo, and to Michael’s loft.

And now Michael has suggested that I stop writing in my journal, and pay attention to him for a little while.

You know what? This sounds like a completely excellent idea to me, too.

An excerpt fromRansom My Heart by Daphne Delacroix

“Finnula,” he said, again, and this time she recognized the need in his voice. It matched the need she felt in her own heart, in the thrum of her own pulsing veins. “I know I gave you my word I wouldn’t touch you, but—”

Finnula wasn’t at all certain how what happened next transpired. It seemed as if one minute she was standing looking up at him, wondering if he’d ever stop talking and just do it, for heaven’s sake…

And the next, she was in his arms. She didn’t know if he’d moved or she had.

But suddenly, her arms were around his neck, drawing his head down toward hers, her fingers tangled in his soft hair, her lips already parted to receive his.

Those strong golden arms, the ones she’d longed to have round her, imprisoned her, clasping her so close to his broad chest that she could hardly breathe. Not that she could catch her breath anyway, since he was kissing her so deeply, so urgently, as if she might at any moment be torn away from him. He seemed to fear that they’d be interrupted again. Only Finnula realized, with a satisfaction that surely would have shocked her brother, had he known of it, that they had all night long. Accordingly, she lengthened the kiss, conducting a leisurely exploration of those arms she’d so admired. Why, they really were every bit as perfect as she’d imagined.