Okay…I did do really well in the writing and critical reading sections of my SATs. And my college app essays were good, too. (I’m not going to lie aboutthat , at least not in my own journal. I worked my butt off on those.)
I’ll admit, when your extracurriculars are,Single-handedly brought democracy to a country that otherwise had never known it before , andWrote a four-hundred-page novel for my senior project , it does look slightly impressive.
But I can be truthful tomyself : All those colleges I applied to? They only let me in because I’m a princess.
And it’s not that I’m not grateful. I know every single one of those schools will give me a wonderful, unique educational opportunity.
It’s just…it would have been nice for justone of those places to have accepted me for…well, forme , and not the tiara. If only I could have applied under my pen name—Daphne Delacroix—to know for sure.
Whatever. I’ve got bigger things to worry about right now.
Well, not bigger than where I’m going to spend the next four—or more, if I goof off and don’t declare a major right away like Mom did—years of my life.
But there’s the whole thing with Dad. What if he doesn’t win the election? The election that wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for me telling the truth.
And Grandmère is so upset about the fact that René, of all people, is running against Dad—plus all the rumors that have been going around ever since I made Princess Amelie’s declaration public, like that our family was purposefully hiding Amelie’s declaration all along, so that the Renaldos could stay in power—that Dad has had to banish her to Manhattan and have her plan this stupid birthday party for me just to distract her so she’ll quit driving him insane with her constant barrage of, “But does this mean we’ll have to move out of the palace?”
She—like the readers ofteenSTYLE —can’t seem to understand that the Genovian palace—and royal family—are protected under Amelie’s declaration (and besides which are a major source of tourist income, just like the British royal family). I keep explaining to her, “Grandmère, no matter what happens in the election, Dad isalways going to be HRH Prince of Genovia, you’realways going to be HRH Dowager Princess, and I’malways going to be HRH Princess of Genovia. I’m still going to have to open new wings of the hospital, I’m still going to have to wear this stupid tiara and attend state funerals and diplomatic dinners…I’m just not going to make legislation. That will be the prime minister’s job. Dad’s job, hopefully. Got it?”
Only she never does.
I guess it’s the least I can do for Dad after what I did. Dealing with her, I mean. I figured, when I spilled the beans about this whole Genovia-is-really-a-democracy thing, he’d run for prime minister unopposed. I mean, with our apathetic population, who else would be interested in running?
I never dreamed the Contessa Trevanni would put up the money for her son-in-law to campaign against him.
I should have known. It’s not like René has ever had an actual job. And now that he and Bella have a baby, he’s got to dosomething , I suppose, besides change the Luvs disposables.
ButApplebee’s ? I suppose he’s getting a kickback from them, or whatever.
What’s going to happen if Genovia is overrun by chain restaurants and—my chest seriously gets tight when I think about this—turned into another Euro Disney?
What can I do to make this not happen?
Dad says to stay out of it—that I’ve done enough…
Yeah. Like that doesn’t make me feeltoo guilty.
It’s all just so exhausting.
Not to mention all this other stuff. Like it even matters, in comparison to what’s going on with Dad and Genovia, but…well, it kind of does. I mean, Dad and Genovia are facing all these changes, and so am I.
The only difference is, they aren’tlying about it, the way I am. Well, okay, sure, Dad’s lying about why Grandmère is in New York (to plan my birthday party, when really, she’s here because he can’t stand having her around).
That’sone lie. I havemultiple lies. Lies layered upon lies.
Mia Thermopolis’s List of Big Fat Lies She’s Been Telling Everyone:
Lie Number One: Well, of course, first, there’s the lie that I didn’t get into all those colleges. (No one knows the truth but me. And Principal Gupta. And my parents, of course.)
Lie Number Two: Then there’s the lie about my senior project. I mean, that it wasn’tactually on the history of Genovian olive oil pressing, circa 1254–1650, which is what I’ve told everyone (except Ms. Martinez, of course, who was my advisor, and who actually read it…or at least the first eighty pages of it, since I noticed she stopped correcting my punctuation after that. Of course Dr. K knows the truth, but he doesn’t count).
No one else even asked to read it, because who’d want to read a four-hundred-page paper on the history of Genovian olive oil pressing, circa 1254–1650?
Well, except for one person.
But I don’t want to talk about that right now.
Lie Number Three: Then there’s the lie that I just told Lana, about how I can’t go prom dress shopping with her because I’m busy hanging out with John Paul Reynolds-Abernathy IV after school today, when the truth is—Well. That’s not theonly reason why I’m not going prom dress shopping with her. I don’t want to get into it with her, because I know what she’ll say. And I just don’t feel like dealing with La Lana right now.
Only Dr. Knutz knows the exact extent of my lies. He says he’s prepared to clear his schedule for the day when they all blow up in my face, as he’s warned me is inevitably going to happen.
And he says I better do it soon, because next week is our last session.
He’s mentioned it would be far better if I just came clean—confess the truth about having been admitted to every college to which I applied (for some reason, he thinks itisn’t necessarily just because I’m a princess), tell everyone what my senior project isreally about, including the one person who wants to read it…even fess up about the prom.
If you ask me, a good place for me to start telling the truth would be in Dr. K’s office—with telling Dr. K that I thinkhe ’s the one in need of therapy. Yeah, he pretty much came to the rescue when I was going through one of the darkest periods of my life (though he made me do all the real work to climb out of that black hole myself).
But he has to be nuts to think I’m simply going to start blurting out the cold hard truth to everyone like that.
It’s just thatso many people would beso hurt if I suddenly started telling the truth. Dr. K was there when the fallout happened after the Princess Amelie revelation. My dad and Grandmère were in his office forhours afterward. It wasawful . I don’t want that to happen again.
Not that my friends would end up in my therapist’s office. But Kenny Showalter—oh, sorry,Kenneth , as he wants to be known now—wanted to go to Columbia more than anything, but instead got into his second-choice school of MIT. MIT is a fantastic school, but try telling Kenny—I mean, Kenneth—that. I guess the fact that he’ll be separated from his one true love, Lilly—whowill be going to Columbia, just like her brother—is what’s bothering him about MIT, which is in Massachusetts.
And then there’s Tina, who didn’t get intoher first choice of Harvard—butdid get into NYU. So she’s kind of happy, because Boris didn’t get into his first choice of Berklee, which is in Boston. Instead, he got into Juilliard, which is in New York City. So that means Tina and Boris will at least be going to colleges in the same city. Even if they aren’t their first-choice colleges.
Oh, and Trisha is going to Duke. And Perin is going to Dartmouth. And Ling Su is going to Parsons. And Shameeka is going to Princeton.