Forever Princess

Mia! You’re writing in your journal! I haven’t seen you do that in ages!

Oh. Hi, Tina. Yeah. Well, yeah, I told you. I was busy with my senior project.

I’ll say. You’ve been working on it for the past two years, almost! I had no idea the history of Genovian olive oil pressing was that fascinating.

It is, believe me! As the main export of Genovia, olive oil and its manufacture is an extremely interesting subject.

I can’t believe myself. Listen to me! How sad can I sound??? As the main export of Genovia, olive oil and its manufacture is an extremely interesting subject?

If only Tina knew what my book was really about! Tina would die if she knew I’d written a four-hundred-page historical romance…Tina adores romances!

But I can’t tell her. I mean, it obviously isn’t any good if I can’t get it published.

If only she had asked to read it…but who’d want to read about olive oil and its manufacture?

Okay, well, one person.

But he was just being nice. Honestly. That’s the only reason.

And I can’t actually send him a copy. Because then he’ll see what it’s really about.

And I’ll die.

Mia. Are you all right?

Of course! Why do you ask?

I don’t know. Because you’ve been acting sort of…funny the closer we’ve gotten to graduation. And as your best friend, I just thought I’d ask. I know you didn’t get into any of the colleges you applied to, but surely your dad can pull a few strings, right? I mean, he’s still a prince—not to mention, soon to be the prime minister! Well, hopefully. He’s sure to beat that jerk, Prince René. I just know your dad could get you into NYU…and then we could be roomies!

Well…we’ll see! I’m trying not to worry about it too much.

You? Not worry? I’m surprised you haven’t had your nose stuck in that journal for the past six months. Anyway, what’s this Lana tells me about you not wanting to go prom dress shopping with us this afternoon? She says you’re going to J.P.’s play rehearsal?

Wow, news travels fast around this place. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like any of us seniors is actually going to do any work the last two weeks of school.

Uh-huh. Gotta support my man!

Right. Except didn’t J.P. forbid you from attending all rehearsals of his play, because he wants you to be completely surprised by the show when you see it opening night? So…what’s really going on, Mia?

Great. Dr. K was right. It’s all blowing up in my face. Or starting to, at least.

Well, all right. If I’m going to start telling people the truth I might as well begin with Tina…sweet, nonjudgmental, always-there-for-me Tina, my best friend and total confidante.

Right?

Actually, I’m not sure I’m going to the prom.

WHAT? Why? Mia, are you taking some kind of feminist stand against dances? Did Lilly put you up to this? I thought you guys still weren’t even speaking.

We’re speaking! You know we’re speaking. We’re…civil to each other. I mean, we have to be, since she’s the editor for the Atom this year. And no one has updated ihatemiathermopolis.com in almost two years. You know I think she still feels kind of bad about all that. Maybe.

Well—I guess so. I mean, she never did update it again after that day she was so awful to you in the caf. Maybe, whatever it was Lilly was so mad at you about, she got it out of her system that day.

Right. Either that, or she’s just totally preoccupied with the Atom. And Kenny, of course. I mean, Kenneth.

I know! It’s sweet Lilly’s managed to stick with one guy for so long. But I honestly wish they wouldn’t make out in front of me in Advanced Bio. I don’t want to see that much of anyone’s tongue. Especially now that she’s pierced it. But none of this explains why you’re not going to the prom!

Well, the truth is…J.P. hasn’t actually asked me to go. And I’m fine with that because I don’t want to go.

Is that all? Oh, Mia! Of course J.P. is going to ask you! I’m sure he’s just been so busy with his play—and figuring out what FANTASTIC thing he’s going to give you for your birthday—he hasn’t gotten around to thinking about the prom yet. Do you want me to have Boris say something to him about it?

Ack! Ack, ack, ack, ack.

Also, why me?

Oh, yes, Tina, yes, I do. Yes, I want you to have your boyfriend remind my boyfriend to ask me to the prom. Because that’s super romantic, and just how I always envisioned getting my invitation to the senior prom—via someone else’s boyfriend.

I see what you mean. Oh, dear, what a mess. And this was supposed to be our special time—you know.

Wait…

Can Tina actually be talking about…

She is. She actually is.

She’s referring to that thing we used to talk about during our sophomore year.

You know, that losing-our-virginity-on-prom-night thing.

Doesn’t Tina realize a lot of time has passed—and a lot of water gone under the bridge—since we sat in class when we were in tenth grade and fantasized about our perfect prom nights?

She can’t possibly think I still feel the same way about it that I did back then.

I’m not the same person I was back then.

And I’m certainly not with the same person I was then. I mean, I’m with J.P. now—

And J.P. and I…

It’s too late now for J.P. to make reservations for a room for after-prom at the Waldorf. Last I heard, they had no rooms left.