Let alone DONE that.
I don’t even know what I was thinking.
It’s just that this is so much WORSE than the fact that my longtime boyfriend has dumped me. Worse than my best friend’s ex claiming to be in love with me. Worse than the fact that my former enemy now sits with me at lunch. Worse than the fact that I’m barely passing Precalc.
I mean, my father is trying to bilk the Genovian people out of their one shot at being a democratic society.
And there’s really only a single person I know of who can tell me what I ought to do about all of this (instead of, like, my mom taking over and doing it all herself).
And she’s not speaking to me.
But I thought we could rise above the petty stuff. I really thought we could.
Seriously. I just felt like I needed to talk to Lilly. Because Lilly would know what I should do.
And what, I thought, would be the worst thing that could happen if I just TOLD her? What if I just walked up and told her what was going on? She’d HAVE to respond, right? Because it’s such an injustice, she wouldn’t be able to help it. She’s LILLY. Lilly can’t stand idly by while an injustice is being perpetrated. She’s physically incapable of it. She’d HAVE to say something.
And most likely, what she’d say was, “You have GOT to be kidding me. Mia, you have to—”
And then she’d tell me what to do. Right?
And then I’d be able to stop feeling like I’m sliding farther and farther down Papaw’s cistern.
I mean, maybe we wouldn’t be friends again.
But Lilly would never let a country be cheated out of government by the people. Right? As opposed as she is to the monarchy?
That was my reasoning, anyway. That’s why I went up to her just now in the cafeteria.
I swear that’s all I did. I just walked over to her. That’s it. All I did was go over to where she was sitting—ALONE, by the way, because Kenny is suspended, and Perin was off at an orthodontist’s appointment, and Ling Su had chosen to stay in the art room to finish a collage of herself she’s calling, Portrait of the Artist in Ramen Noodles and Olives—and go, “Lilly? Can I talk to you a second?”
And okay, maybe it was a bad idea to approach her in public. I probably should have waited in the girls’ room, since she always goes in there to wash her hands when she’s done eating. Then I could have talked to her in private, and if she reacted badly, no one would have seen or heard it but me and maybe a few freshmen.
But like an IDIOT I went up to her in front of everyone and slid into the seat across from hers and went, “Lilly, I know you’re not speaking to me, but I really need your help. Something terrible has happened: I found out that nearly four hundred years ago one of my ancestresses signed a bill making Genovia a constitutional monarchy, but no one found the bill until the other day, and when I showed it to my dad he basically dismissed it because it was written by a teenage girl who only ruled for twelve days before succumbing to the Black Death, and besides which, he doesn’t want a merely ceremonial role in the Genovian government, even though I told him he should run for prime minister. You know everyone would vote for him. And I just feel like this enormous injustice is being done, but I don’t know what I can do about it, and you’re so smart, I figured you could help me—”
Lilly looked up from her salad and went, coldly, “Why are you even speaking to me?”
Which, I will admit, kind of threw me. I probably should have gotten up and walked away right then and there.
But like the idiot that I am, I kept going. Because…I don’t know. We’ve been through so much together, I just figured maybe she hadn’t heard me right, or something.
“I told you,” I said. “I need your help. Lilly, this whole cold-shoulder thing, it’s so stupid.”
She just stared at me some more. So I went, “Well, okay,
if you feel like you have to go on hating me, that’s fine. What about the people of Genovia, though? They never did anything to you—although neither did I, but that’s not the point. Don’t you think the people of Genovia deserve to be free to choose their own leader? Lilly, they need you—I need you to help me figure out how to—”
“Oh. My. God.”
Lilly stood up on the word “Oh.” She raised her fist on the word “My.” And she brought it down hard on the table-top on the word “God.”
So hard that every single head in the caf swiveled toward us to see what was going on.
“I cannot believe this!” Lilly yelled. Literally, yelled at me, even though I was sitting right across from her, barely two feet away. “You are completely unbelievable. First, you break my brother’s heart. Then you steal my boyfriend. Then you think you can ask me for advice about your completely dysfunctional family?”
By the time she got to the word “family,” she was screaming.
I just blinked up at her, completely shocked. Also, not able to see very well, thanks to the tears in my eyes.