Princess in the Spotlight (The Princess Diaries 2)

I met Beverly Bellerieve. The one good thing about all this is that she actually seems semi-human. She told me that if she asked anything that I felt was too personal or embarrassing, that I could just say I don’t want to answer. Isn’t that nice?

Plus she is very beautiful. You should see my dad. I can already tell that Beverly is going to be this week’s girlfriend. Well, she’s better than the women he usually hangs around with. At least Beverly looks as if she probably isn’t wearing a thong. And as if her brainstem is fully functional.

So, considering that Beverly Bellerieve turns out to be so nice and all, you’d think I wouldn’t be so nervous.

And truthfully, I’m not so sure it’s just the interview that’s making me feel like I’m going to hurl. It’s actually something my dad said to me, when I came in. It was the first time I’d seen him since the time he spent at the loft while I was sick. Anyway, he asked me how I was feeling and all, and I lied and said fine, and then he said, “Mia, is your Algebra teacher—”

And I was all, “Is my Algebra teacher what?” thinking he was going to ask me if Mr. Gianini was teaching me about parallel numbers.

But that is so totally NOT what he asked me. Instead, he asked me, “Is your Algebra teacher living in the loft?”

Well, I was so shocked, I didn’t know what to say. Because of course Mr. Gianini isn’t living there. Not really.

But he will be. And probably pretty shortly, too.

So I just went, “Um, no.”

And my dad looked relieved! He actually looked relieved!

So how is he going to look when he finds out the truth?

It is very hard to concentrate on the fact that I am about to be interviewed by this world-renowned television news journalist, when all I can think about is how my poor dad is going to feel when he finds out my mother is marrying my Algebra teacher and also having his baby. Not that I think my dad still loves my mom, or anything. It’s just that, as Lilly once pointed out, his chronic bed-hopping is a clear indication that he has some serious intimacy issues.

And with Grandmère as a mother, you can see why that might be.

I think he really would like to have what my mom has with Mr. Gianini. Who knows how he is going to take t

he news about their impending marriage, when my mom finally works up the guts to tell him? He might completely freak out. He might even want me to come live with him in Genovia, to comfort him in his grief!

And of course I will have to say yes, because he is my dad and I love him, and all.

Except that I really don’t want to live in Genovia. I mean, I would miss Lilly and Tina Hakim Baba and all my other friends. And what about Jo-C-rox? How would I ever find out who he is? And what about Fat Louie? Would I get to keep him, or what? He is very well behaved (except when it comes to ingesting socks, and that whole thing with the sparkly objects) and if there was a rodent problem in the castle, he would totally solve it. But what if they don’t let cats in the palace? I mean, he hasn’t had his claws removed, so if there’s any sort of valuable furniture or tapestries or whatever, you can pretty much kiss them good-bye. . . .

Mr. G and my mom are already talking about where his stuff is going to go when he moves into the loft. And Mr. G has some really cool-sounding stuff. Like a foozball table, a drum set (who knew Mr. Gianini was musical?), a pinball machine, AND a 36-inch flat-screen TV.

I am not even kidding. He is way cooler than I ever thought.

If I move to Genovia, I will totally miss out on having my own foozball table.

But if I don’t move to Genovia, who will comfort my poor dad in his chronic loneliness?

Oops, the cosmetic technician is back with the blue eyeshadow.

I swear I am going to heave. Good thing I was too nervous to eat anything all day.

Saturday, October 25, 7 p.m., on the way to Lilly’s house

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, OH, GOD.

I screwed up. I REALLY screwed up.

I don’t know what happened. I honestly don’t. Everything was going along fine. I mean, that Beverly Bellerieve, she’s so . . . nice. I was really, really nervous, and she did her very best to try to calm me down.

Still, I think I did some major babbling.

Think??? I KNOW I did.

I didn’t mean for it to happen. I really didn’t. I don’t even know how it slipped out. I was just so nervous and hyper, and there were those lights and that microphone and everything. I felt like . . . I don’t know. Like I was back in Principal Gupta’s office, living through that whole codeine cough-syrup thing again.