Forever Princess

For a second all four of them (well, nine if you count the ladies who were doing our feet) just stared at me in stunned silence. The silence was finally broken by Tina, who said, “Mia, I just meant, would it be okay if I told them how you’d written a romance novel.”

“You wrote a romance novel?” Lana wore an expression of shock. “A book? You, like…typed it?”

“Why?” Trisha looked stunned. “Why would you do that?”

“Mia,” Shameeka said, after exchanging nervous glances with everyone else. “I think it’s great you wrote a book. S-seriously! Congratulations!”

It took a minute for it to sink in that they were more shocked by the fact that I’d written a book than that I was a virgin. In fact, they seemed not even to care about the fact that I was a virgin, and were fixated on the fact that I’d written a book.

About which, can I just say—well, I was insulted, actually.

“But the sex scenes in your book,” Tina said. She looked as shocked as everyone else in the room. “They were so…”

“I told you.” I could feel myself turning as red as Elizabeth Arden’s door. “I read a lot of romance novels.”

“Is it, like, a real book?” Lana wanted to know. “Or is it one of those books you make at the mall where you put your own name in it? Because I wrote one of those when I was seven. It was all about how LANA went to the circus and how LANA got to perform with the trapeze artists and bareback riders because LANA is just as pretty and talented as—”

“Yes, it’s a real book,” Tina said, shooting LANA a look. “Mia wrote it herself, and it’s really—”

“HELLO!” I yelled. “I just told all of you that I’ve never had sex! And all you seem to be able to talk about is the fact that I wrote a book. Can we please FOCUS? I’ve never had sex! Do you have nothing to say about that?”

“Well, the book thing is more interesting,” Shameeka said. “I don’t see what the problem is, Mia. Just because we’ve all done it doesn’t mean you should feel strange about having waited. I’m sure there’ll be tons of girls at the University of Genovia who haven’t done it, either. So you won’t be at all out of place.”

“Totally,” Tina said. “And how sweet is it that J.P. hasn’t pressured you?”

“That’s not sweet,” Lana said flatly. “That’s weird.”

Tina shot her another dirty look, but Lana refused to back down. “Well, it is! That’s what boys do. It’s, like, their job to try to get you to have sex with them.”

“J.P. is a virgin, too,” I informed them. “He’s been saving himself for the right person. And he says he’s found her. Me. And he’s willing to wait until whenever I’m ready.”

When I said that, everyone in the room looked at one another and sighed dreamily.

All except Lana. She went, “So what’s he waiting for then? Are you sure he’s not gay?”

Tina shouted, “Lana! Could you be serious for one second, please?” just as Shameeka asked, “Mia, if J.P. is willing to wait, then what’s the problem?”

I blinked at her. “There’s no problem,” I said. “I mean, we’re fine.”

Mia Thermopolis’s Big Fat Lie Number Eight.

And Tina busted me on it.

“But there is a problem,” Tina said. “Isn’t there, Mia? Based on something you mentioned yesterday.”

I widened my eyes at her. I knew what she was going to say, and I really didn’t want her to. Not in front of Lana and those guys.

“Uh,” I said. “No. No problem. I’ve always been a bit of a late bloomer….”

“I’ll say.” Lana snorted. “Geek.”

But Tina didn’t notice my subtle hint.

“Do you even want to have sex with J.P., Mia?” Tina asked.

Love, Michael. Now, why did that have to pop into my head?

“Yes, of course!” I cried. “He’s totally foxy.” I was borrowing a phrase from the bathroom wall, about Lana. She’d written it about herself. But I figured it applied to J.P., too.

“But…” Tina looked as if she were trying to choose her words carefully. “You told me yesterday that you think Michael smells better.”

I saw Trisha and Lana exchange glances. Then Lana rolled her eyes.

“Not the neck thing again,” she said. “I told you, just buy J.P. some cologne.”

“I did,” I said. “It’s not that—Look, forget it, okay? You guys all have sex on the brain, anyway. There’s more to a relationship than sex, you know.”

This caused all the ladies who were doing our feet to start giggling hysterically.

“Well,” I said to them. “Isn’t there?”

“Oh, yes,” they all said. “Your Highness.”

Why did I get the feeling that they were making fun of me? That they were ALL making fun of me? Look, I knew from my vast romance reading that sex was fun.

But I ALSO knew from my vast romance reading that there were some things more important than sex.

LOVE, MICHAEL.

“Besides,” I added desperately, “just because I think Michael smells better than J.P. doesn’t mean I’m still in love with him or anything.”

“Okay,” Lana said. Then she dropped her voice to a whisper and said, “Except for the part where it totally does.”