'Nonsense,' Grandmere said. 'The Sultan called to cancel our dinner tonight - Le Cirque is closed - but this silly strike will be over by Saturday. And then you can go to your little prom.'

'No,' I said. 'It's not because of the strike. It's because of what I told you. You know. About Michael.'

'What about Michael?' my dad wanted to know. Only I really don't like saying anything negative about Michael in front of my father, because he is always just looking for an excuse to hate him, since he is a dad and it is a dad's job to hate his daughter's boyfriend. So far my dad and Michael have managed to get along, and I want to keep it that way. 'Oh,' I said lightly. 'You know. Boys don't really get into the prom the way girls do.'

My dad just grunted and turned back to the TV 'You can say that again,' he said. He's one to talk! He went to an all-boys

high school! He didn't even HAVE a prom!

'Just try it on,' Grandmere said. 'So I can send it back if it needs fitting.'

'Grandmere,' I said. 'There's no point. . .' But my voice trailed off because Grandmere got That Look in her eye. You know

the one. The look that, if Grandmere were a trained assassin and not a dowager princess, would mean somebody is about to get iced.

So I got up off the couch and went back into Grandmere's room and tried on the dress. Of course it fitted perfectly, because Chanel has all my measurements from the last dress Grandmere bought there for me, and God forbid I should grow or anything, particularly in the chest area.

As I stood there gazing at my reflection in the floor-length mirror, I couldn't help thinking how convenient the off-the-shoulder thing is. You know, in the event Michael and I ever wanted to get to second base.

But then I remembered we aren't actually going anywhere together where I would actually get to wear this dress, since

Michael had put the whole kibosh on the prom, so it was kind of a moot point. Sadly, I peeled off the dress and put it

back on Grandmere's bed. Probably there'll be some function I'll end up wearing it to in Genovia this summer. Some

function Michael won't even be there to attend. Which is just so typical.

I came out of the bedroom just in time to see Lilly on TV She was addressing a room full of reporters at what looked like the Chinatown Holiday Inn again. She was going, 'I would just like to say that none of this would be happening if the Dowager Princess of Genovia would publicly admit her culpability in her failure to control her dog, and in bringing said dog into a dining establishment.'

Grandmere's jaw dropped. My dad just kept staring stonily into the TV

As proof of this claim,' Lilly said, holding up a copy of today's edition of The Atom, 'I offer this editorial written by the Dowager Princess's own granddaughter.'

And then I listened in horror as Lilly, in a sing-song voice, read my article out loud. And I must say, hearing my own words thrown back at me in that manner really made me cognizant of just how stupid they sounded ... far more so than, say, hearing them read in my own voice.

Oops. Dad and Grandmere are staring at me. They do not look happy. In fact, they look kind of ...

Wednesday, May 7,10 p.m., the Loft

I really don't get why they're so upset. It is a journalist's duty to report the truth, and that is what I did. If they can't take the heat, they both need to get out of the kitchen. I mean, Grandmere DID take her dog into that restaurant, and Jangbu DID only trip because Rommel darted out in front of him. They cannot deny this. They can wish it hadn't happened and they can wish

that Lesley Cho had not asked me to write an editorial about it.

But they cannot deny it, and they cannot blame me for exercising my journalistic rights. Not to mention my journalistic integrity.

Now I know how the great reporters before me must have felt. Ernie Pyle, for his hard-hitting reportage during World War II. Ethel Payne, first lady of the black press during the civil rights movement. Margaret Higgins, the first woman to win a Pulitzer for international reporting. Lois Lane, for her tireless efforts on behalf of the Daily Planet. Those Woodward and Bernstein guys, for the whole Watergate thing, whatever that was about.

I know now exactly what it must have been like for them. The pressure. The threats of grounding. The phone calls to their mothers.

That's the part that hurt the most, really. That they would bother my poor dehydrated mother, who is busy trying to bring a

new life into the world. God knows her kidneys are probably rattling around in her body like packs of de-siccant right now. And they dare to pester her with such trivialities?

Plus, my mom is so on my side. I don't know what Dad was thinking. Did he really think Mom would be on GRANDMERE's side in all of this?

Although Mom did tell me that to keep peace in the family, I should at least apologize. I don't see why I should, though. This whole thing has resulted in nothing but heartache for me. Not only did it cause the break-up of one of AEHS's most long-term couples, but it caused me to have what looks to be a permanent falling-out with my best friend. I have lost MY BEST FRIEND over this.

I informed both Dad and Grandmere of this right before the latter imperiously ordered Lars to get me out of her sight. Fortunately, I had the foresight to snag the prom dress out of Grandmere's room and stuff it in my backpack before this happened. It's only a little wrinkled. A good steaming in the shower and it will be good as new.

I can't help thinking that they could have handled this little affair in a more appropriate manner. They COULD have called a press conference of their own, fessed up to the whole dog-in-the-restaurant thing, and had it all over and done with.