The Princess Diaries (The Princess Diaries 1)

Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I have detention for a week, plus math review with Mr. G, plus princess lessons with Grandmère.

I didn’t get home until nine o’clock tonight. Something has got to give.

My father is furious. He says he is going to sue the school. He says no one can give his daughter detention for defending the weak. I told him that Principal Gupta can. She can do anything. She’s the principal.

I can’t say I really blame her. I mean, it wasn’t like I said I was sorry or anything. Principal Gupta is a nice lady, but what could she do? I admitted I had done it. She told me I’d have to apologize to Lana and pay to have her sweater cleaned. I said I’d pay for the sweater but that I wouldn’t apologize. Principal Gupta looked at me over the rims of her bifocals and went, “I beg your pardon, Mia?”

I repeated that I wouldn’t apologize. My heart was beating like crazy. I didn’t want to make anybody mad, especially Principal Gupta, who can be very scary when she wants to. I tried to picture her in her husband’s sweat pants, but it didn’t work. She still scared me.

But I won’t apologize to Lana. I won’t.

Principal Gupta didn’t look mad, though. She looked concerned. I guess that’s how educators are supposed to look. You know. Concerned about you. She went, “Mia, I must say, when Lana came in here with her complaint, I was extremely surprised. It’s usually Lilly Moscovitz I have to pull in here. I never expected I was going to have to pull you in. Not for disciplinary reasons. Academic reasons, maybe. I understand you aren’t doing very well in Algebra. But I’ve never known you to be a discipline problem before. I really feel I must ask you, Mia . . . is everything all right?”

For a minute I just stared at her.

Is everything all right? Is everything all right?

Hmm, hold on a minute, let me see . . . my mom is going out with my Algebra teacher, a subject I’m flunking, by the way; my best friend hates me; I’m fourteen years old and I’ve never been asked out; I don’t have any breasts; and oh, I just found out I’m the princess of Genovia.

“Oh, sure,” I said to Principal Gupta. “Everything is fine.”

“Are you certain, Mia? Because I can’t help wondering if this isn’t all rooted in some problems you might be having . . . maybe at home?”

Who did she think I was, anyway? Lana Whineberger? Like I was really going to sit there and tell her my problems. Yeah, Principal Gupta. On top of all that other stuff, my grandmother is in town, and my dad is paying $100 a day for me to get lessons from her in how to be a princess. Oh, and this weekend, I ran into Mr. Gianini in my kitchen, and all he was wearing was a pair of boxer shorts. Anything else you want to know?

“Mia,” Principal Gupta said, “I want you to know that you are a very special person. You have many wonderful qualities. There is no reason for you to feel threatened by Lana Weinberger. None at all.”

Oh, okay. Just because she’s the prettiest, most popular girl in my class, and she’s going out with the handsomest, most popular boy in school, you’re right, Principal Gupta. There’s no reason at all to feel threatened by her. Especially since she puts me down every chance she gets and tries to humiliate me in public. Threatened? Me? Nah.

“You know, Mia,” Principal Gupta said, “I bet if you took the time to get to know Lana you’d find that she’s really a very nice girl. A girl just like you.”

Right. Just like me.

I was so upset, I actually told Grandmère all about it at our vocabulary lesson. She was surprisingly sympathetic.

“When I was a girl your age,” Grandmère said, “there was a girl just like this Lana at my school. Her name was Genevieve. She sat behind me in Geography. Genevieve would take the end of my braid and dip it in her inkwell, so that when I stood up I got ink all over my dress. But the teacher would never believe me that Genevieve did it on purpose.”

“Really?” I was kind of impressed. That Genevieve had some guts. I never met anyone who’d try to dis my grandmother. “What did you do?”

Grandmère let out this evil laugh. “Oh, nothing.”

There is no way she did nothing to Genevieve. Not with a laugh like that. But no matter how hard I pestered her, Grandmère wouldn’t tell me what she did to get back at Genevieve. I’m kind of thinking maybe she killed her.

Well? It could happen.

But I guess I shouldn’t have pestered Grandmère so hard, because to shut me up she gave me a quiz! I’m not kidding!

It was really hard, too. I’ve stapled it in here, since I got a 98. Grandmère says I’ve really come a long way since we started.

Grandmère’s Test

In a restaurant, what does one do with one’s napkin when one rises to go to the powder room?

If it’s a four-star restaurant, hand it to the waiter who rushes over to help you with your chair. If it’s a normal place, and no waiter rushes over, leave your napkin on your empty chair.

Under what circumstances is it acceptable to apply lipstick in public?

Never.