Princess in Waiting (The Princess Diaries 4)

And now that I am entering the second semester of my freshman year, my grades are actually going to start to matter. Not that I intend to go to college or anything. At least not right away. I, like Prince William, intend to take a year off between high school and college. But I hope to spend it developing some kind of gift or talent, or, if I can’t find one, volunteering for Greenpeace, hopefully in one of those boats that goes out between Japanese and Russian whaling ships and the whales. I don’t think Greenpeace takes volunteers who don’t have at least a 3.0 grade-point average.

Anyway, it was murder getting up this morning, especially when, after I’d dragged out my school uniform, I realized my Queen Amidala panties weren’t in my underwear drawer. I have to wear my Queen Amidala underwear on the first day of every semester, or I’ll have bad luck for the rest of the year. I always have good luck when I wear my Queen Amidala panties. For instance, I was wearing them the night of the Nondenominational Winter Dance, when Michael finally told me he loved me.

Not that he was IN LOVE with me, of course. But that he loved me. Hopefully not like a friend.

I have to wear my Queen Amidala panties on the first day of second semester, just like I’ll have to send them to the laundry-by-the-pound place and get them washed before Friday so I can wear them on my date with Michael. Because I’m going to need extra good luck that night, if I’m going to have to compete with the Kate Bosworths of the world for his attentions… and also since I plan on giving Michael his birthday present that night. His birthday present that I’m hoping he’ll like so much, he’ll totally fall in love with me, if he hasn’t already.

So I had to go into my mom’s room, the one she shares with Mr. Gianini, and wake her up (thank God Mr. G was in the shower, I swear to God if I?

??d had to see them in bed together in the condition I was in at that time, I’d have gone completely Anne Heche) and be all, “Mom, where’s my Queen Amidala underwear?”

My mom, who sleeps like a log even when she isn’t pregnant, just went, “Shurnowog,” which isn’t even a word.

“Mom,” I said. “I need my Queen Amidala underwear. Where are they?”

But all my mom said was, “Kapukin.”

So then I got an idea. Not that I really thought there was any way my mom wasn’t going to let me go out with Michael, after her uplifting speech about him the night before. But just to make sure she couldn’t back out of it, I went, “Mom, can I go with Michael for dinner and a movie at the Screening Room this Friday night?”

And she went, rolling over, “Yeah, yeah, scuniper.”

So I got that taken care of.

But I still had to go to school in my regular underwear, which creeped me out a little, because there’s nothing special about it, it is just boring and white.

But then I kind of perked up when I got in the limo, because of the prospect of seeing Michael and all.

But then I was like, Oh, my God, what was going to happen when I saw Michael? Because when you haven’t seen your boyfriend in thirty-two days, you can’t just be all, “Oh, hi,” when you see him. You have to, like, give him a hug or something .

But how was I going to give him a hug in the car? With everyone watching? I mean, at least I wasn’t going to have to worry about my stepdad, since Mr. G fully refuses to take the limo to school with me and Lars and Lilly and Michael every morning, even though we are all going to the same place. But Mr. Gianini says he likes the subway. He says it is the only time he gets to listen to music he likes (Mom and I won’t let him play Blood, Sweat and Tears in the loft, so he has to listen to it on his Discman).

But what about Lilly? I mean, Lilly was totally going to be there. How can I hug Michael in front of Lilly? And okay, it is partly because of Lilly that Michael and I got together in the first place. But that does not mean that I feel perfectly comfortable participating in, you know, public displays of affection with him right in front of her .

If this were Genovia it would be all right to kiss him on both cheeks, because that is the standard form of greeting there.

But this is America, where you barely even shake hands with people, unless you’re, like, the mayor.

Plus there was the whole Jane-Eyre thing. I mean, Tina and I had resolved we were not going to chase our boyfriends, but we hadn’t said anything about how to greet them again after not having seen them for thirty-two days.

I was almost going to ask Lars what he thought I ought to do when I had a brainstorm right as we were pulling up to the Moscovitzes’ building. Hans, the driver, was going to hop out and open the door for Lilly and Michael, but I went, “I’ve got it,” and then I hopped out, instead.

And there was Michael, standing there in the slush, looking all tall and handsome and manly, the wind tugging at his dark hair. Just the sight of him set my heart going about a thousand beats per minute. I felt like I was going to melt….

Especially when he smiled once he saw me, a smile that went all the way up to his eyes, which were as deeply brown as I remembered, and filled with the same intelligence and good humor that had been there the last time I had gazed into them, thirty-two days earlier.

What I could not tell was whether or not they were filled with love. Tina had said I’d be able to tell, just by looking into his eyes, whether or not Michael loved me. But the truth was, all I could tell by looking into his eyes was that Michael didn’t find me utterly repulsive. If he had, he’d have looked away, the way I do when I see that boy in the caf at school who always picks the corn out of his chili.

“Hi,” I said, my voice suddenly super-squeaky.

“Hi,” Michael said, his voice not squeaky at all, but really very thrillingly deep and Wolverine-like.

So then we stood there with our gazes locked on each other, and our breath coming out in little puffs of white steam, and people hurrying down Fifth Avenue on the sidewalk around us, people I barely saw. I hardly even noticed Lilly go, “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” and stomp past me to climb into the limo.

Then Michael went, “It’s really good to see you.”

And I went, “It’s really good to see you, too.”

From inside the limo, Lilly went, “Hello, it’s like two below outside, will you two hurry it up and get in here already?”