Princess in Training

So, I was standing there waiting to get my ice-cream sandwich when I heard this voice behind me say my name, and when I turned my head there were Lana and Trisha Hayes, who seemed to have recovered from Mr. Harding’s tongue-lashing—at least enough to join Lana in her quest to humiliate me publicly as often as possible.

“So, Mia,” Lana said, when I made the mistake of turning around. “Are you still going out with that guy? You know, that Michael guy, with the band?”

I should have known, of course. That Lana wasn’t trying to make up for all those years of being mean to me. I should have just put the ice-cream sandwich back and left the jet line then and there.

But I thought, I don’t know, that maybe she was sorry for the whole underwear remark from the locker room that morning. I thought—don’t ask me why—that maybe Lana really had changed over the summer, too, just like Boris. Only instead of changing on the outside, Lana had changed on the inside.

I should have known something like that would be impossible, since in order to have a change of heart, Lana would actually have to HAVE a heart in the first place, and she obviously does NOT, since when I said, cautiously, “Yeah, Michael and I are still going out,” she went, “Isn’t he in college now?”

And I said, “Yeah. He goes to Columbia,” kind of proudly, because, hello, at least MY boyfriend had chosen to go to a college in the same STATE as the one I live in, unlike Lana’s ex.

“Well, have you two done it yet?” Lana wanted to know, as casually as if she were asking me where I’d gotten my highlights done.

And I was like, “Done what?” because I SWEAR I had no idea what she was talking about. I mean, who ASKS people things like that????

And Lana went, “IT, you idiot,” and looked at Trisha and the two of them started laughing hysterically.

That’s when I realized what she meant.

I swear I could FEEL my face turning red. Seriously. It must have turned as red as Lana’s nail polish.

And then before I could stop myself I went, “NO, OF COURSE NOT!” in a very shocked voice.

Because I WAS very shocked. I mean, this is a topic I barely discuss with my best FRIENDS. I certainly never expected to be discussing it with my MORTAL ENEMY. In the JET LINE.

But before I had a chance to recover from my paralyzing astonishment, Lana went on.

“Well, if you want to hang on to him, you’d better hurry up,” she said, while Trisha giggled behind her. “Because guys in college expect their girlfriends to Do It.”

Guys in college expect their girlfriends to Do It.

That is what Lana said to me. In the JET LINE.

Then, as I stood there staring at her in total and complete horror, Lana poked me in the back and went, “Are you going to buy that, or are you just going to stand there?” and I realized the line had moved up so that I was standing in front of the cashier with my ice-cream sandwich melting in my hand.

So, I handed the cashier my dollar and went back to my table with Lilly and Boris and Tina and Shameeka and Ling Su and just sat there not saying anything until the bell rang.

And no one even noticed.

Guys in college expect their girlfriends to Do It.

Can this possibly be true? I mean, I have seen a lot of movies and TV shows where guys in college seem to expect their girlfriends to Do It. Such as MTV’s Fraternity Life and Spring Break. And Revenge of the Nerds.

But the guys in those movies and shows had girlfriends who were in college, too. None of them were going out with sophomores in high school. Who will shortly be flunking Geometry. Who happen to be princesses of small European principalities. Who have six-foot-five bodyguards.

Oh, my God, is Michael expecting to have SEX with me??? NOW????

Naturally, I assumed we would have sex ONE DAY. But I thought ONE DAY was way, way in the future. As far into the future as the day we go out to sea together to stop those whaling ships for Greenpeace. I mean, we have only been to second base ONCE and that was at the prom and I’m pretty sure now it wasn’t even on purpose and I didn’t even FEEL anything because of my strapless bra having way too much metal in it.

Am I supposed to believe that all this time I have been supposed to be getting ready to DO IT? But I am NOT ready to DO IT. I don’t think. I mean, I don’t even want Michael to see me in a BATHING SUIT let alone NAKED—

OH, MY GOD!!!! Last night he asked me to come over on Saturday to see how he and Doo Pak have set up their dorm room!!!!

WHAT IF THAT WAS REALLY AN INVITATION TO COME OVER AND DO IT AND I DON’T EVEN KNOW IT BECAUSE I AM SO UNSKILLED IN THE WAYS OF LOVE?????

What am I going to do about this? Clearly, I need to talk to someone. But WHO? I can’t talk to Lilly, because Michael’s her BROTHER. And I can’t talk to Tina, because she already told me the most precious gift a woman can give to a man is the flower of her virginity and that’s why she’s saving herself for Prince William, who is only allowed to marry a virgin.

She says she will settle for giving her flower to Boris if the Prince William thing doesn’t work out by the time our senior prom rolls around, though.

I can’t talk to my MOTHER about it, because she can barely concentrate on the things she’s SUPPOSED to be concentrating on—like raising my baby brother—as it is, without the added distraction of her teenaged daughter wanting to talk to her about sex.

Besides, I know what she’ll do: She’ll schedule an appointment for me with her gynecologist. Excuse me, but EW.