terribly unprincesslike.
Instead, I invited her in - but coldly. Very coldly. Who's the weak one NOW, I'd like to know????
We went into my room. I shut the door (I'm allowed to shut my bedroom door so long as anybody but Michael is inside
there with me).
And Lilly let loose.
Not, as I was expecting, with the heartfelt apology I deserved for her dreadful treatment of me, dragging my good name and royal lineage across the airwaves in the manner she had.
Oh no. Nothing like that. Instead, Lilly is crying because she heard about Tina and Boris.
That's right. Lilly's crying because she wants her boyfriend back.
Seriously! And after the way she'd treated him!
I'm just sitting here in stunned silence, staring at Lilly as she rants. She's stomping around my room in her Mao jacket and Birkenstocks, shaking her glossy curls, her eyes, behind the lenses of her glasses (I guess revolutionaries working to empower the people don't wear their contacts), filled with bitter tears.
'How could he?' she keeps wailing. 'I turn my back for five minutes - five minutes! - and he runs off with another girl? What
can he be thinking?'
I can't help but point out that perhaps Boris was thinking about seeing her, Lilly, his girlfriend, with another boy's tongue down her throat. In MY hallway closet, no less.
'Boris and I never vowed to see one another exclusively,' she insists. 'I told him that I am like a restless bird ... I can't be tied down.'
'Well.' I shrug. 'Maybe he's more into the roosting type.' 'Like Tina, you mean?' Lilly rubs her eyes. 'I can't believe she could
do this to me. I mean, doesn't she realize that she'll never make Boris happy? He's a genius, after all. It takes a genius to know how to handle a fellow genius.'
I remind Lilly, somewhat stiffly, that I am no genius, but I seem to be handling her brother, whose IQ is 179, quite well.
I don't mention the whole part about him still refusing to go to the prom and the fact that we haven't got to second base yet.
'Oh, please,' Lilly scoffs. 'Michael's gaga for you. Besides, at least you're in Gifted and Talented. You get to observe geniuses in action on a daily basis. What does Tina know about them? Why, I don't think she's even seen A Beautiful Mind. Because Russell doesn't take his shirt off enough in it, no doubt.'
'Hey,' I say harshly. I'd noticed this about A Beautiful Mind, too, and I think it's a valid criticism. 'Tina is my friend. A way better friend to me than you've been lately.'
Lilly has the grace to look guilty.
'I'm sorry about all that, Mia,' she says. 'I swear I don't know what came over me. I just saw Jangbu and I ... well, I guess
I became a slave to my own lust.'
I must say, I am very surprised to hear this. Because while Jangbu is, of course, quite hot, I never knew physical attraction
was important to Lilly. I mean, after all, she's been going out with Boris for, like, ever.
But apparently, it was all completely physical between her and Jangbu.
God. I wonder what base they got to. Would it be rude to ask? I mean, I know that, considering we aren't best friends any more, it probably isn't any of my business. But if she got to third with that guy, I'll kill her.
'But it's over between Jangbu and me,' Lilly just announced very dramatically ... so dramatically that Fat Louie, who doesn't
like Lilly very much in the first place, and usually hides in the closet among my shoes when she comes over, just tried to
burrow his way into my snow boots. 'I thought he had the heart of a proletarian. I thought, at last I had found a man who shared my passion for social causes and the advancement of the worker. But alas ... I was wrong. So very, very wrong.
I simply cannot be soul-mates with a man willing to sell his life story to the press.'
It appears that Jangbu has been approached by a number of magazines, including People and US Weekly, who are vying for the exclusive rights to the details of his run-in with the Dowager Princess of Genovia and her dog.
'Really?' I was very surprised to hear this. 'How much are they offering him?'
'Last time I talked to him, they were up to six figures.' Lilly dries her eyes on one of Grandmere's Chanel scarves. 'He won't
be needing his job back at Les Hautes Manger, that's for sure. He's planning on opening a restaurant of his own. A Taste of Tibet, he's planning on calling it.'
'Wow.' I feel for Lilly. I really do. I mean, I know how much it sucks when someone you thought was your spiritual lifemate turns out to be sell-out. Especially when he French kisses as well as Josh - I mean Jangbu - does.
Still, just because I feel sorry for Lilly doesn't mean I'm going to forgive her for what she did. I may not be self-actualized,
but at least I have pride.
'But I want you to know,' Lilly is saying, 'that I realized I wasn't in love with Jangbu before all this stuff with the strike happened. I knew I had never stopped loving Boris when he picked up that globe and dropped it on his head for me. I mean, Mia, he was willing to get stitches for me. That's how much he loves me. No boy has ever loved me enough to risk actual, physical pain and discomfort for me ... and certainly not Jangbu. I mean, he's WAY too caught up in his own fame and celebrity. Not like Boris. I mean, Boris is a thousand times more gifted and talented than Jangbu, and HE isn't caught up in
the fame game.'
I really don't know quite how to respond to all this. I guess Lilly must realize this by the way she's narrowing her eyes at me
and going, 'Would you please stop writing in that journal for ONE MINUTE and tell me how I can win Boris back?'
Though it pained me to do it, I was forced to inform Lilly that I think the chances of her ever winning Boris back are like zero. Less than zero, even. Like in the negative polynomials.
'Tina is really crazy about him,' I told her. 'And I think he feels the same way about her. I mean, he gave her his autographed eight-by-ten glossy of Joshua Bell—'
This information caused Lilly to clutch her heart in existential pain. Or maybe not so existential, since I'm not even really sure what existential means. In any case, she clutched her heart and fell back dramatically across my bed. 'That witch!' she keeps yelling - so loudly that I'm afraid any minute Mr G is going to come busting in here, thinking we have Buffy turned up too loud. Also, she wasn't actually saying witch, but the other word that rhymes with it. 'That black-hearted, back-stabbing witch! I'll
get her for stealing my man! I'll get her!'
I had to get very severe with Lilly. I told her that under no circumstances was she going to 'get' anyone. I told her that Tina really and sincerely adored Boris, which is all he has ever wanted - to love and be loved in return, just like Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge. I told her that if she really loved Boris the way she said she did, she would leave him and Tina alone, let them enjoy the last few weeks of school together. Then if, in the autumn, Lilly still found herself wanting Boris back, she could say something. But not before.
Lilly was, I think, a little taken aback by my sage - and very direct - advice. In fact, she still appears to be digesting it. She's sitting on the end of my bed, blinking at my Princess Leia Screensaver. I am sure it must be quite a blow to a girl with an ego the size of Lilly's . . . you know, that a boy who had once loved her could learn to love again. But she will just have to get