That guy is really getting on my nerves.
He’s right, though. We should stop. It’s wrong.
But it feels so right!
J.P.! Stop it! You’re making me laugh!
Good. You need a laugh, I suspect.
J.P. is so nice!!!! Lilly’s so lucky to have found such a perfect guy.
All right, back to Chemistry.
Wait…there’s HOW many chemical compounds? And we have to know them ALL???????
Thursday, September 9, Precalculus
REASONS TO DO IT TONIGHT
VS.
WAIT UNTIL PROM NIGHT
Pro:
It could convince him to stay in New York and not move to Japan, thus keeping me from having a nervous breakdown when he isn’t around for me to smell his neck.
Con:
It could convince him to stay in New York and not move to Japan, thus depriving the world of a potentially life-saving medical breakthrough, and my grandmother of her reason to keep trying to fix me up with other guys she believes are “more worthy” (meaning richer) than Michael.
Pro:
Michael says he is never going to another prom anyway, so I might as well just get it over with now.
Con:
But maybe by the time my senior prom rolls around, he might be so desperate for sex he’ll agree to go after all!
Pro:
It will be a chance for us to express our love physically in a way that will truly make us one heart, one mind, one soul.
Con:
What if I pass gas or something? I mean, seriously, you are NAKED, he’s going to be able to tell it was you.
Pro:
Speaking of naked, I will finally get to see Michael naked.
Con:
He will get to see ME naked.
Pro:
By having sex tonight, instead of waiting until prom night, we will avoid being a cliché, like couples in teen movies.
Con:
The fact that I am not yet eighteen could lead to legal complications for Michael down the road. Although I’m sure my dad wouldn’t want the tabloids finding out about something like that.
Pro:
Lilly’s Done It already. At least I think so. And it doesn’t seem to have done her and J.P. any harm.
Con:
I don’t actually know this for sure.
Pro:
By giving each other the Precious Gift of our virginity, we will be forging an emotional and spiritual bond with each other that we will never have with anyone else in our lives, even if the unthinkable should happen and we someday part ways.
Con:
I can’t think of a con to that one.
Oh whatever. We’re so Doing It.
I’m so going to throw up.
HOMEWORK
Homeroom: n/a
Intro to Creative Writing: Some idiotic thing I can’t remember
English: 1,000 words onRaise High the Roof Beams, Carpenters
French: Moredécrire un soir amusant avec les amis
G & T: n/a
PE: n/a
Chemistry: Who knows?
Precalculus: Who cares?
Only six more hours until Michael and I Do It!!!!!!!!
Thursday, September 9, the Four Seasons
It’s getting harder and harder to find Grandmère for my princess lessons these days. We finally tracked her down in the penthouse of the Four Seasons, but when I walked in, it was bedlam, as usual.
“These curtains are unacceptable,” Grandmère was saying to a man in a business suit whose gold nametag read Jonathan Greer.
“I’ll have them replaced immediately, madam,” Jonathan Greer said.
Grandmère looked kind of surprised that he wasn’t arguing. She said, “A floral print. NOT stripes.”
“Absolutely, madam,” Jonathan Greer said. “They’ll be replaced with floral patterned curtains at once.”
Grandmère gave him a startled look. She was clearly used to more resistance from the hotel concierges she’s been dealing with lately.
“And I cannot abide leather furniture,” she said, pointing to a very nice club chair in the corner. “It’s far too slippery, and Rommel dislikes it. The smell makes him nervous. He was kicked in the head by a cow once.”
“I’ll have the chair re-covered at once, madam,” the concierge said. He caught my eye, and nodded politely in my direction. But then he turned back to Grandmère. “Perhaps in the same material as the curtains?”
Grandmère looked even more taken aback. “Why, yes…yes, that would be acceptable.”
“And would Your Highness care for tea,” Jonathan Greer wanted to know, “as I see your granddaughter has arrived? Service for two can be brought immediately. Finger sandwiches or scones or both?”
Grandmère looked like she might pass out, she was so astonished. “Both, of course,” she said. “And Earl Grey tea.”
“Absolutely,” Jonathan Greer said, as if there were no other kind. “And perhaps a cocktail for you, Your Highness? I believe a Sidecar—served in a stemmed cocktail glass, no sugar on the rim—is your preference?”
Grandmère had to sit down. She did it gracefully—well, except for the part where she almost sat on Rommel. But he got out of the way in the nick of time. It’s not like he hasn’t had plenty of practice.
“That would be lovely,” she said faintly.
“Anything that we can do to make your stay in the Royal Suite more pleasurable, Your Highness,” Jonathan Greer said, with a bow. “You need only call.”
And with that, he stepped smartly out of the room and into the hallway—where I saw my dad, out of Grandmère’s sight, slip the guy a folded-up bill and murmur his thanks.
Wow. My dad can be slick sometimes.
“So,” he said to Grandmère, as he strolled back into the room. “What do you think? Does this place meet with your approval?”
“It’s called the Royal Suite,” Grandmère said, still a bit faintly.
“Indeed it is,” my dad said. “Three bedrooms of luxury for you, Rommel, and your maid. I hope you approve. Look…there’s even an ashtray.”
Grandmère blinked at the crystal bowl he held up. “There are roses,” she said. “Pink and white. In vases everywhere.”
“Well, look at that,” Dad said. “So there are. Do you think you can stand to live here until your condo at the Plaza is completed?”
Grandmère rallied herself. “I suppose it will betolerable ,” she said. “Though hardly what I’m used to.”
“Of course not,” Dad said. “But sometimes in life we must suffer. Mia. How are you?”
I jumped away from the window, which I’d been looking out of. We were on the thirty-second floor, and I have to say that the view, while beautiful, wasn’t doing much for the vomity feeling I was kind of pushing down.
I didn’t just feel like throwing up, either. There was fluttering going on in my stomach. It was like there was one of those hummingbirds, that sometimes hover around outside my window back in Genovia, trapped inside my abdomen.
I’m sure this was just nervous anticipation of the ecstasy I am bound to experience tonight in Michael’s arms.
“I’m fine,” I said to my dad. Too fast, though, since he gave me a strange look.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You look…pale.”
“I’m good,” I said. “Just, um, ready for today’s princess lesson!”
My dad gave me an even STRANGER look at that. I have NEVER been ready for a princess lesson. EVER.
“Oh, Amelia,” Grandmère groaned, from her couch. “I haven’t the time or patience today. Jeanne and I have so much unpacking to do.” Which translates from Grandmère speak toMy maid, Jeanne, has to unpack while I, the dowager princess, boss her around. “I need to get settled before I can think of more things to teach you. This constant moving about has been VERY unsettling. Not just for me, but for Rommel, as well.”