For a minute I just stared at her.
Is everything all right?Is everything all right?
Hmm, hold on a minute, let me see . . . my mom is going out with my Algebra teacher, a subject I’m flunking, by the way; my best friend hates me; I’m fourteen years old and I’ve never been asked out; I don’t have any breasts; and oh, I just found out I’m the princess of Genovia.
"Oh, sure," I said to Principal Gupta. "Everything is fine."
"Are you certain, Mia? Because I can’t help wondering if this isn’t all rooted in some problems you might be having . . . maybe at home?"
Who did she think I was, anyway? LanaWhine berger? Like I was really going to sit there and tell her my problems. Yeah, Principal Gupta. On top of all that other stuff, my grandmother is in town, and my dad is paying $100 a day for me to get lessons from her in how to be a princess. Oh, and this weekend, I ran into Mr. Gianini in my kitchen, and all he was wearing was a pair of boxer shorts. Anything else you want to know?
"Mia," Principal Gupta said, "I want you to know that you are a very special person. You have many wonderful qualities. There is no reason for you to feel threatened by Lana Weinberger. None at all."
Oh, okay. Just because she’s the prettiest, most popular girl in my class, and she’s going out with the handsomest, most popular boy in school, you’re right, Principal Gupta. There’s no reason at all to feel threatened by her. Especially since she puts me down every chance she gets and tries to humiliate me in public. Threatened?Me? Nah.
"You know, Mia," Principal Gupta said, "I bet if you took the time to get to know Lana you’d find that she’s really a very nice girl. A girl just like you."
Right. Just like me.
I was so upset, I actually told Grandmère all about it at our vocabulary lesson. She was surprisingly sympathetic.
"When I was a girl your age," Grandmère said, "there was a girl just like this Lana at my school. Her name was Genevieve. She sat behind me in Geography. Genevieve would take the end of my braid and dip it in her inkwell, so that when I stood up I got ink all over my dress. But the teacher would never believe me that Genevieve did it on purpose."
"Really?" I was kind of impressed. That Genevieve had some guts. I never met anyone who’d try to dis my grandmother. "What did you do?"
Grandmère let out this evil laugh. "Oh, nothing."
There is no way she didnothing to Genevieve. Not with a laugh like that. But no matter how hard I pestered her, Grandmère wouldn’t tell me what she did to get back at Genevieve. I’m kind of thinking maybe she killed her.
Well? It could happen.
But I guess I shouldn’t have pestered Grandmère so hard, because to shut me up she gave me a quiz! I’m not kidding!
It was really hard, too. I’ve stapled it in here, since I got a 98. Grandmère says I’ve really come a long way since we started.
Grandmère’s Test
In a restaurant, what does one do with one’s napkin when one rises to go to the powder room?
If it’s a four-star restaurant, hand it to the waiter who rushes over to help you with your chair. If it’s a normal place, and no waiter rushes over, leave your napkin on your empty chair.
Under what circumstances is it acceptable to apply lipstick in public?
Never.
What are the characteristics of capitalism?
Private ownership of the means of production and distribution, and the exchange of goods based on the operations of the market.
What is the appropriate reply to make to a man who says he loves you?
Thank you. You are very kind.
What did Marx consider to be the contradiction in capitalism?
The value of any commodity is determined by the amount of labor needed to produce it. In denying workers the value of what they have produced, the capitalists are undermining their own economic system.
White shoes are unacceptable . . . .
At funerals, after Labor Day, before Memorial Day, and anywhere there might be horses.
Describe an oligarchy.
Small group exercises control for generally corrupt purposes.
Describe a Sidecar.
1/3 lemon juice, 1/3 Cointreau, 1/3 brandy shaken well with ice, strained before serving.
The only one I missed was the one about what to say to a man when he tells you he loves you. It turns out you aren’t supposed to say thank you.
Not, of course, that this will ever happen to me. But Grandmère says I might be surprised someday.
I wish!
Tuesday, October 14, Homeroom
No Lilly again this morning. Not that I expected there to be. But I made Lars stop at her place anyway, just in case maybe she wanted to be friends again. I mean, she could have seen how assertive I was with Lana and decided she was wrong to criticize me so much.
But I guess not.
The funny thing is, when Lars was dropping me off at school, Tina Hakim Baba’s chauffeur was dropping her off, too. We sort of smiled at each other, then walked into school together, her bodyguard behind us. Tina said she wanted to thank me for what I had done yesterday. She said she told her parents about it, and that they want me to come over for dinner Friday night.
"And maybe," Tina asked, all shyly, "you could spend the night after, if you wanted."
I said, "Okay." I mostly said it because I feel sorry for Tina, since she doesn’t have any other friends, because everybody thinks she’s so weird, with the bodyguard and all. I also said it because I heard she has a fountain in her house, just like Donald Trump, and I wanted to see if that was true.