But, of course, my dad had NO idea what he was talking about, because he’d never been let in on that plan (thank God) in the first place.
“Excuse me?” Dad said, looking totally confused.
“Hollywood?” Grandmère cried, looking appalled.
“Right,” I said quickly. “But that was before I decided on Sarah Lawrence.”
Grandmère sucked in so much air, it was a wonder there was any left for the rest of us to breathe.
“Sarah Lawrence?” she cried, in joyous wonder.
“Sarah Lawrence?” Dad echoed. It was one of the schools he’d thrown out, way back in ninth grade, as one of his top choices for me. But in a million years, I’m pretty sure he never thought I’d actually take him up on it.
But, as it happens, like Michael said, Sarah Lawrence is one of the colleges that don’t count SAT scores toward its entrance requirements. And it’s got a strong writing program. And it’s really close to New York City. Just in case I have to pop back into Manhattan to visit Fat Louie or Rocky.
Or smell my boyfriend’s neck.
“That’s a great choice, Mia,” Mom said, looking super happy. Of course, she’s been looking super happy ever since she noticed the diamond ring on my left hand was gone, and I’d come home from the prom with Michael, and not J.P.
But I think she really is happy about Sarah Lawrence, too.
“Thanks,” I said.
But no one was happier than Grandmère.
“Sarah Lawrence,” Grandmère kept murmuring. “Iwas to go to Sarah Lawrence. If I hadn’t married Amelia’s grandfather. We’ve got to start planning how we’ll decorate her room. I think buttercup yellow walls.I was to have buttercup yellow walls…”
“Okay, then,” Michael said to me, eyeing Grandmère as she waxed on about buttercup yellow walls. “Wanna dance?”
“Do I ever,” I said, relieved to have an excuse to leave the table.
Which is how we ended up on the dance floor with my mom and Mr. G, dancing with Rocky and having a blast together, as usual; Lilly and Kenneth, doing some kind of new wave dance they seem to have invented themselves, even though the music was sort of slow; Tina and Boris, just holding each other, and gazing into each other’s eyes, the height of romance, as one would expect, since it was Tina and…well, Boris; and…my dad and Ms. Martinez.
“No,” I said, coming to a standstill when I saw this. “Just…no.”
“What?” Michael looked around. “What’s the matter?”
I should have expected it. I mean, they’d been dancing together at my birthday party, but I thought that had been a one-time thing.
It was at that point that my dad said something to Ms. Martinez and she slapped him across the face, then stalked off the dance floor.
I don’t think anyone could have been more stunned than my dad…except maybe my mom, who started laughing.
“Dad!” I exclaimed, horrified. “What did yousay to her?”
My dad came over, rubbing the side of his face but looking more intrigued than actually hurt.
“Nothing,” he said. “I didn’t say anything to her. Well, nothing more than I usually say when I dance with a beautiful woman. It was a compliment, actually.”
“Dad,”I said. When would he ever learn? “She isn’t a lingerie model. She’s myformer English teacher .”
“She’s intoxicating,” Dad said thoughtfully, gazing after her.
“Oh my God.” I groaned, and buried my face in Michael’s neck. I could see clearly what was going on. It was all too obvious. Not again! “Tell me this is not happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening,” Michael said. “He’s following her, calling after her…Did you know her first name was Karen?”
“I think I’m about to become more than well acquainted with that fact,” I said, still keeping my face in his neck and inhaling deeply.
“Yeah, now he’s heading across the parking lot after her…She’s trying to hail a taxi to get away but…oh, he’s stopped her. They’re talking. Oh, wait. She’s taking his hand…So, are you going to call her Ms. Martinez after they get married like you do Mr. Gianini, or do you think you’ll ever be able to call her Karen?”
“Seriously. What is wrong with my family?” I asked, with a groan.
“The same thing that’s wrong with everybody’s family,” Michael said. “It’s made up of human beings. Hey, quit sniffing me a minute and lift your head up.”
I lifted my head and looked at him. “Why?” I asked.
“So I can do this,” he said. And kissed me.
And as we were kissing, and the late-afternoon sun was pouring in all around us, and the other couples were swirling around us on the dance floor, laughing, I realized something. Something I think might be really important:
This princess thing, which four years ago I was convinced was going to be the ruination of my life, had turned out to be just the opposite. It’s actually taught me things, some of them very important. Like how to stand up for myself, and be my own person. How to get what I want out of life, on my own terms. And never to sit by my grandmother while crab is being served, since it’s her favorite dish, and she simply can’t eat it and talk at the same time, and half of it will end up all over whoever she’s sitting next to.
It’s taught me something else, too.
And that’s that as you get older, you lose things, things you don’t necessarily want to lose. Some things as simple as…well, your baby teeth when you’re a little kid, as they make way for your adult teeth.
But as you age, you lose other, even more important things, like friends—hopefully only bad friends, who maybe weren’t as good for you as you once thought. With luck, you’ll be able to hang on to your true friends, the ones who were always there for you…even when you thought they weren’t.
Because friends like that are more precious than all the tiaras in the world.
I’ve also learned that there are the things youwant to lose…like that hat you throw into the air on graduation day. I mean, why would you want to hold on to it? High school sucks. People who say those were the best four years of your life—those people are liars…. Who wants the best years of their lives to be inhigh school ? High school is somethingeverybody should be ready to lose.
And then there are the things you thought you wanted to lose, but didn’t…and now you’re glad you didn’t.
A good example of this would be Grandmère. She drove me crazy for four years (and not just because of the crab thing). Four years of princess lessons, and nagging, and insanity. I swear, there were moments during some of those years when I gladly would have beat in her face with a shovel.
But in the end, I’m glad I didn’t. She taught me a lot, and I don’t just mean how to use appropriate flatware. In a way, she’s the one—well, with Mom and Dad’s help, of course…not to mention Lilly, and all my friends, really—who taught me how to appreciate this royalty thing—another thing I wanted desperately to lose, but didn’t….
And, yes, in the end…I’m glad.
I mean, yeah, it sucks sometimes, being a princess.
But I know now there are ways I can work it so I can help people, and maybe, in the end, even make the world a better place. Not in huge ways, necessarily. Sure, I’m not going to invent a robotic surgical arm that’s going to save people’s lives.
But I’ve written a book that might, like Michael said, make someone whose loved one is being operated on by that arm forget about how scared she is while she’s in the waiting room.
Oh, and I brought democracy to a country that’s never known it.
And okay, these are small things. But one baby step at a time.
Still, the most important reason I’m glad I turned out to be a princess, and that I’m going to stay one forever?
If I hadn’t, I highly doubt I’d have gotten this majorly happy ending.