And Michael, always the dutiful son, listened. While I sat there going, Dr. and Dr. Moscovitz, splitting up? It CAN’T be. It’s not possible. It’s just not NATURAL for them to split. It’s like…well, it’s like Michael and me splitting up.

Which we might actually be doing. Because, you know, he never actually did say he forgave me. For the J.P. thing. He admitted he was mad at me, but never said if he was STILL mad.

Oh my God. Are the Moscovitzes not the only couple breaking up right now?

Except there was no way I could actually find out. At least not just then, since Michael was holding the phone to his face, going, “Mom. Mom, I know. Don’t worry.”

And I knew then that what was going on with him—and with us—was more than a “Sorry” cookie could solve.

I also knew there was nothing else I could do.

Which was why I got up and left.

Because what else was I supposed to do?

From the desk of

Her Royal Highness

Princess Amelia Mignonette

Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo

Dear Dr. Carl Jung,

I realize that you are still dead. However, things have suddenly gotten much worse.

And now I’m not worried so much about transcending my ego and achieving self-actualization.

Instead, I’m worried about my friends.

Not that I don’t have my own problems, of course. But now I’ve learned that my boyfriend’s parents are splitting up. Dr. Jung, this could devastate a young man in his prime like Michael. Not only is it clearly breaking his heart, but it could give him abandonment issues that I fear will have a trickle-down effect into MY relationship with him. I mean, what if, from his parents’ example, Michael learns that walking away from a relationship is the way to handle conflict?

This could totally happen. I know because I saw it once on Dr. Phil.

And the fact is, there is conflict going on in our relationship RIGHT NOW, due to an ill-timed sexy dance on my part.

Could things possibly GET any worse? PLEASE SEND HELP.

Your friend,

Mia Thermopolis

Monday, March 8, midnight, the loft

You know what this reminds me of? “No More Corn!” Seriously. The part where the nameless main character is wandering the streets of Manhattan, surrounded by people and yet, ultimately, so very, very alone. So alone that he realizes he has no choice but to step in front of that F train.

Which if you think about it is a very selfish thing to do since the poor conductor driving the train will be traumatized for life because of it.

Still. It is like my life has started imitating my ART!!! Seriously!!! My fictional story is coming true—only not for J.P.

For ME.

The thing is, as soon as I got in the limo, I sent Michael a long e-mail via Lars’s Sidekick, telling him how much I loved him, and how sorry I was, both about his parents and for my being so immature and self-centered. And for the sexy dance.

I fully expected to get a long e-mail back from him by the time I got home, saying he loved me, too, and that he forgave me for being such a weirdo at his party.

But he didn’t write back.

At all.

I can’t believe this. I mean, what do I do NOW? I already sent him a “Sorry” cookie. I have no idea what to do next. I’d buy him a ride on the space shuttle if I thought it would help. But I don’t think it would.

Besides, I can’t afford a ride on the space shuttle. I can’t even afford a TOY space shuttle.

As if all that weren’t enough, Michael’s parting words to me keep echoing in my head: “Mia, I don’t want a party girl. All I want is—”

All I want is…WHAT?

I will probably never know. But I can’t help worrying that, whatever it is Michael wants, I’m not it.

And right now, I can’t say I blame him.

Tuesday, March 9, the limo on the way to school

So Lilly was just all, “Oh my God, what happened to YOU?” when she got into the car.

And I was like, “What do you mean?”

And she was like, “You look like crap. What, did you not get any sleep last night or something? Your grandmother is going to kill you. We have dress rehearsal tonight.”

So obviously, she doesn’t know that I know about her parents. It’s possible that Michael was wrong, and Lilly herself doesn’t even know about them. Not really.

Unless she’s actually as fine an actress as she thinks she is.

Which means I can’t tell her why I look like crap. I mean, Lilly would only SLIGHTLY kill me for knowing her parents are splitting up before SHE even knows her parents are splitting up. Besides, Michael asked me to keep it to myself.

I guess I could tell her that I think Michael and I are breaking up on account of my sexy dance with J.P.

But isn’t that just a little more than she should have to deal with right now? I mean, if she DOES know about her parents? Is it really fair for me to expect her to cope with their breakup AS WELL AS mine? If that’s even what’s going on with Michael and me?

No. No, it is not.

So instead of telling her the truth, I just went, “I don’t know. I think I’m getting a cold.”

“Bummer,” Lilly said. And then she told me how she’d gotten almost twenty of her ’zines completely collated and stapled. Only nine hundred and eighty to go. Because, of course, Lilly thinks every single person in the entire school is going to buy one.

I didn’t bother to contradict her. For one thing, I feel totally empty inside, so it’s not like I even care.