Princess on the Brink (The Princess Diaries 8)

“That’s right,” Lilly said, sounding very self-satisfied. “When you ducked out of school on account of your little tummyache, Principal Gupta said you disqualified yourself from the race.”

“Oh, Lilly,” I breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lilly said. “I asked Principal Gupta what would happen if no one ran—you know, to the student council. And she said Mrs. Hill would just have to preside over it. Well, you know how THAT would turn out: We’d be selling candles from here to Spring Break. So I asked Principal Gupta if I could run in your place, and she said, seeing as how there were no other candidates, she didn’t see why not. So I gave your speech. You know, the one about all the things people should do in the event of catastrophes? I guess I embellished a bit. Nothing TOO much. Just, you know, a few bits about supervolcanoes and asteroids…nothing major. People were too afraid NOT to vote for me. They held the vote last period. And I won. Well, over fifty percent, anyway. I KNEW this freshman class would respond to fear, and fear alone. It’s all they’ve ever known, after all.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s great, Lilly.”

“Thanks,” Lilly said. “Although I don’t know what I’m telling YOU for, since you didn’t help in any way. You are not my vice president, by the way. Perin is. I don’t need a boyfriend stealer as my vice president, OR as a friend.”

“Lilly,” I said. “I did NOT steal your boyfriend. I told you, I only kissed him because—well, I don’t know why I kissed him. I just did. But—”

“You know what, Mia?” Lilly snapped. “I don’t want to hear it. Why don’t you save it for someone who cares? Like J.P., for instance.”

“J.P. doesn’t like me that way, Lilly,” I couldn’t help snapping back. “And you know it!”

“Do I?” Lilly asked, with an evil laugh. “Well, maybe I know something you don’t know, then.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “Come on, Lilly, this is stupid. We’ve been friends too long to let a GUY come between us—”

“Yeah?” Lilly said. “Well, maybe we’ve been friends long enough, then. Good-bye, POG.”

Then I heard a click. Lilly hung up on me.

I couldn’t believe it. Lilly hung up on me.

I sat there, not having the slightest idea what to do. The truth was, I couldn’t believe any of this was happening. I’d lost my boyfriend and my best friend all in the same week. Was such a thing even possible?

I was still sitting there, holding the phone, when it rang again. I was so sure it was Lilly calling back to apologize for hanging up on me that I answered on the first ring and said, “Look, Lilly, I am so, so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you? I’ll do ANYTHING.”

But it wasn’t Lilly. A deep, masculine voice said, “Mia?”

And my heart soared. It was Michael. MICHAEL WAS CALLING ME! I didn’t know how, since he was supposedly on a plane. But what did I care? It was MICHAEL!

“Yes,” I said, my bones turning to jelly with relief. It was MICHAEL! I practically burst into tears—but this time with happiness, not sadness.

“It’s me,” the voice said. “J.P.”

My bones went from jelly to stone. My heart crashed back down to the earth.

“Oh,” I said, desperately trying to keep my disappointment from sounding obvious. Because a princess always tries to make callers feel welcome, even if they aren’t the caller she was expecting. Or hoping for. “Hi.”

“I take it you already talked to Lilly,” J.P. said.

“Um,” I said. How could I have thought it was Michael? Michael was on a plane, flying halfway across the world from me. And why would Michael ever bother calling me again, after what I did? “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“I’m guessing it probably went about as well as when I tried to talk to her, just now,” J.P. said.

“Yeah,” I said. I felt numb. Was nu

mbness a symptom of dysthmia? Not just emotional numbness, but actual PHYSICAL numbness? “She pretty much hates my guts. And I guess she has a right to. I don’t know what I was thinking back there outside of Chemistry, J.P. I am so, so sorry.”

J.P. laughed. “You don’t have to apologize to me,” he said. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

It was nice of him to be so chivalrous about it. But it somehow made it a little worse, in a way.

“I’m such an idiot,” I said miserably.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” J.P. said. “I just think you’ve had a really bad week. That’s why I’m calling. I figured you’d need cheering up, and I think I’ve got just the ticket. Literally.”