But when I told my dad that, he just shot Mr. G a suspicious look. "Well," he said again. "I’m just going to give this Carol Fernandez a call and see who her source is."
And while my dad was doing that, I got stuck with Lars. I’m not kidding. Just like Tina Hakim Baba, I now have a bodyguard trailing around after me from class to class. Like I’m not enough of a laughingstock already.
I now have an armed escort.
I totally tried to get out of it. I was like, "Dad, I can seriously take care of myself," but he was completely rigid and said that even though Genovia is a small country, it is a very wealthy country, and he cannot take the risk of my being kidnaped and held for ransom like the boy inMy Secret Love, only my dad didn’t say that because he’s never readMy Secret Love.
I said, "Dad, no one is going to kidnap me. This isschool," but he wouldn’t go for it. He asked Principal Gupta if it was all right, and she said, "Of course, Your Highness."
Your Highness! Principal Gupta called my dad Your Highness! If it hadn’t been all serious and stuff, I would have wet my pants laughing.
The only good thing that has come out of this is that Principal Gupta let me off detention for the rest of the week, claiming that having my picture in thePost is punishment enough.
But really the only reason is that she is totally charmed by my father. He pulled such a Jean-Luc Picard on her, you wouldn’t believe it, calling her Madam Principal and apologizing for all the fuss. I practically expected him to kiss her hand, he was flirting so hard with her. And Principal Gupta has been married a million years, and has this big black mole on the side of her nose. And she totally fell for it! She was eating it up!
I wonder if Tina Hakim Baba will still sit with me at lunch. Well, if she does, at least our bodyguards will have something to do: They can compare civilian defense tactics.
More Wednesday, French Class
I guess I should have my picture on the front of thePost more often.
Suddenly I am very popular.
I walked into the cafeteria (I told Lars to keep five paces behind me at all times; he kept stepping on the backs of my combat boots), and Lana Weinberger, of all people, came up to me while I was in the jet line getting my tray, and said, "Hey, Mia. Why don’t you come and sit with us?"
I am not even kidding. That lousy hypocrite wants to be friends with me now that I’m a princess.
Tina was right behind me in line (well, Lars was behind me; Tina was behind Lars, and Tina’s bodyguard was behind her). But did Lana invite Tina to join her? Of course not. TheNew York Post hadn’t calledTina a "statuesque beauty." Short, heavyset girls—even one whose father is an Arab sheikh—aren’t good enough to sit byLana. Oh, no. Only purebred Genovian princesses are good enough to sit byLana.
I nearly threw up all over my lunch tray.
"No, thanks, Lana," I said. "I already have someone to sit with."
You should have seen Lana’s face. The last time I saw her look that shocked, a sugar cone had been stuck to her chest.
Later, when we were sitting down, Tina could only nibble at her salad. She hadn’t said a word about the princess thing. Meanwhile, though, everybody in the whole cafeteria—including the geeks, who never notice anything—were staring at our table. Let me tell you, it was way uncomfortable. I could feel Lilly’s eyes boring into me. She hadn’t said anything to me yet, but I think she had to have known. Nothing much escapes Lilly.
Anyway, after a while I couldn’t stand it anymore. I put down a forkful of rice and beans and said, "Look, Tina. If you don’t want to sit with me anymore, I understand."
Tina’s big eyes filled up with tears. I mean it. She shook her head, and her long black braid swayed. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You don’t like me anymore, Mia?"
It was my turn to be shocked. "What? Of course I like you. I thought maybe you might not likeme. I mean, every-one is staring at us. I could see why you might not want to sit with me."
Tina smiled sadly. "Everyone always stares at me," she said. "Because of Wahim, you see."
Wahim is her bodyguard. Wahim and Lars were sitting next to us, arguing over whose gun had the most firepower, Wahim’s 357 Magnum or Lars’s 9mm Glock. It was kind of a disturbing topic, but they both seemed happy as could be. In a minute or two, I expected they’d start to arm wrestle.
"So you see," Tina said, "I’mused to people thinking I’m weird. It’syou I feel sorry for, Mia. You could be sitting with anyone—anyone in this whole cafeteria—and yet you’re stuck with me. I don’t want you to feel you have to be nice to me just because no one else is."
I got really mad then. Not at Tina. But at everybody else at Albert Einstein. I mean, Tina Hakim Baba is really, really nice, and no one knows it because no one ever talks to her, because she isn’t very thin and she’s kind of quiet and she’s stuck with a stupid bodyguard. While people are worrying about things like the fact that a deli is overcharging some people by five cents for gingko biloba rings, there are human beings walking around our school in abject misery because no one will even say Good morning to them, or How was your weekend?
And then I felt guilty, because a week agoI had been one of those people. I had always thought Tina Hakim Baba was a freak. The whole reason I hadn’t wanted anyone to find out I was a princess was that I was afraid they’d treatme the way they treated Tina Hakim Baba. And now that I know Tina, I know just how wrong I’d been to think badly of her.
So I told Tina I didn’t want to sit with anybody but her. I told her I thought we needed to stick together, and not just for the obvious reason (Wahim and Lars). I told her we needed to stick together because everyone else at this stupid school is completely NUTS.