Forever Princess

To which I whispered back, “Yeah, right. Because all guys just ignore the girl in the micromini at work.”

Which, of course, Tina had no reply for. Because Midori’s micromini looked as super cute as she did. And every guy in the room was ignoring it. NOT.

And then Michael presented his CardioArm—which was way bigger than I thought it would be—and everyone clapped, and he ducked his dark head and looked adorably modest.

And then Dr. Arthur Ward surprised him by giving him an honorary master’s degree in science. Just, you know, as one does.

So then everyone clapped some more, and the Drs. Moscovitz came up on stage with Nana and Lilly (Kenny—I mean, Kenneth—hung back, until Lilly finally signaled for him to join them, which he did, after a lot of hesitation and her waving at him, and finally stamping her foot kind of imperiously, which was very Lilly-like, and made people laugh, even people who didn’t know her) and the whole family hugged, and I just…

I started bawling. Really.

Not because Michael has a new girlfriend now, or anything lame like that.

But because it was just so sweet, to see them all up there hugging like that, a family that I personally know, and who has been through so much, what with Michael and Lilly’s parents’ almost-divorce and now their getting back together and Lilly’s general psychoness and Michael’s going off to Japan and working so hard, and…

…and they were all just so happy. It was just so…nice. It was this wonderful moment of success and triumph and wonderfulness.

And there I was, spying on them. Because I wanted to use Michael, to get something that, yes, my country needs, but I don’t in any way deserve. I mean, we can wait, like everybody else.

Basically, I felt like I was totally invading their privacy, and that I had no right to be there. Because I didn’t. I was there on false pretenses.

And it was time to leave.

So I looked at all the other girls—as best I could see them through my tears—and I was like, “Let’s go.”

“But you haven’t even talked to him!” Tina cried.

“And I’m not going to,” I said. I knew as I said it that this was the princessy thing to do. To leave Michael alone. He was happy now. He didn’t need crazy, neurotic me messing up his life anymore. He had sweet, smart Micromini Midori—or if not her, someone like her. The last thing he needed was lying, romance-writing Princess Mia.

Who, by the way, already had a boyfriend.

“Let’s sneak out one at a time,” I said. “I’ll go first, I have to stop in the bathroom.” I knew I had to write all this down while it was still fresh in my mind. Besides which, I had to reapply my eyeliner and mascara, since I’d just cried it all off. “I’ll meet you guys back at Broadway and One-sixty-eighth.”

“This blows,” Lana said. She is very in touch with her feelings.

“The limo’s waiting there,” I said. “I’ll take you to Pinkberry. My treat.”

“Pinkberry, my butt,” Lana said. “You’re taking us to Nobu.”

“Fine,” I said.

So I snuck in here. Where I’ve reapplied my makeup, and I’m writing this.

Really, it’s better this way. To let him go. Not that I ever really had him, or could have, really, but…well, ’tis a far, far better thing I do, and all of that. I’m sure Grandmère wouldn’t think so. But this really is the more princessy thing to do. The Moscovitzes looked so happy. Even Lilly.

And she’s never happy.

Okay, I better go meet those guys. I think Lars might actually shoot me if I make him wait any longer. I—

Hey, those shoes look really familiar.

Oh, no.

Saturday, April 29, 4:00 p.m., limo home

Oh, yes.

Lilly. It was Lilly.

In the stall next to mine.

She totally recognized my platform Mary Janes. My new Prada ones, not the old ones I had from two years ago, which she so mercilessly savaged on her website.

She was like, “Mia? Is that you in there? I thought I saw Lars in the hallway….”

What could I do? I couldn’t say it wasn’t me. Obviously.

So I came out and there she was, looking totally confused, like, What are you doing here?

Fortunately the whole time I was sitting in the audience I’d totally had a chance to make up a story for what I would say if this happened.

Mia Thermopolis’s Big Fat Lie Number Six.

“Oh, hi, Lilly.” I was so Ms. Casual. Even though I had given myself a complete MAC makeover and blowout and was in my best Nanette Lepore top and black lace-trimmed leggings, I acted like the whole thing was no big deal. “Gretchen Weinberger couldn’t make it today so she gave me her press pass and asked me to cover the story of Michael’s donation for her.” I even pulled Gretchen’s press pass out of my bag to prove my colossal lie. “I hope that’s okay with you.”

Lilly just stared at the press pass. Then she looked up at me (because I still tower over her by about six inches, especially in my platforms, even though she was wearing heels).

Honestly, I didn’t like the way she was looking at me. Like she didn’t believe me.

Too late, I remembered the way Lilly could always tell when I was lying (because my nostrils flare).

However, I’ve been practicing lying in front of the mirror, and also in front of Grandmère, to stop this from happening, because people being able to tell you’re lying is a total detriment to one’s future career as a princess, or whatever you want to be, really, as white lies are really crucial to all professions (“Oh, no, you have much longer than six months to live, actually”).