Forever Princess

And I lifted his hand, and put the ring back in the center of his palm, and closed his fingers around it.

He looked down at his hand with an expression of abject misery on his face.

“Mia,” he said. “I can explain why I didn’t tell you about Lilly. The thing is, I didn’t think you—”

“No,” I said. “You don’t need to say another word. Don’t feel bad.” I reached up and patted him on the shoulder.

I guess I could have felt sorry for myself because my prom had gotten totally and completely ruined. I’d gone to it with a guy who’d turned out to be a total phony.

But I remembered what my dad said about how it’s the duty of royalty always to be the stronger person, and to make everyone else feel better. And I took a deep breath and said, “You know what I think you should do? Call Stacey Cheeseman. I think she has a total crush on you.”

J.P. looked down at me as if I were nuts. “You do?”

“I totally do,” I lied. But it was a white lie. And I was pretty sure she did have a crush on him. All actresses adore their director.

“This is completely embarrassing,” J.P. said. Now he was looking down at the ring.

“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 was Michael doing at the AEHS prom?

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

“What do you think 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…