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“Yes,” I say. “But Kenny and I kissed, and I did not like him as more than just a friend.”
“This is a completely different situation,” Tina says.
“How?”
“Because you and Michael are meant to be together!” Tina sounds exasperated. “Your star chart says so! You and Kenny were never meant for one another, he is a Cancer.”
Tina’s astrological predictions notwithstanding, there is no evidence that Michael feels more strongly for me than he does for, say, Judith Gershner. Yes, he wrote me that poem that mentioned the L word. But that was an entire month ago, during which period I was in another country. He has not renewed any such protestations since my return. I think it highly likely that tomorrow will be the straw that broke the hot guy’s back. I mean, why would Michael waste his time on a girl like me, who can’t even stand up to her own grandmother? I’m sure if Michael’s grandmother had been all, “Michael, you’ve got to go to Bingo with me Friday night, because Olga Krakowski, my childhood rival, will be there, and I want to show you off,” he’d have been all, “Sorry, Gram, no can do.”
No, I’m the spineless one.
And I’m the one who now must suffer for it.
I wonder if it is too late in the school year to transfer. Because I really don’t think I can take going to the same school as Michael after we are broken up. Seeing him in the hallway between classes, at lunch, and in G and T, knowing he was once mine, but that I’d lost him, might just kill me.
But is there another school in Manhattan that might take a talentless, spineless reject like me? Doubtful.
For Michael
Oh, Michael, my one true love
We had all new pleasures yet to prove
But I lost you due to my lack of spine
And now through the years, for you I will pine.
Friday, January 23, Homeroom
Well. That’s it. I told him.
He hasn’t dumped me. Yet. In fact, he was way nice about the whole thing.
“No, really, Mia,” was what he said. “I understand. You’re a princess. Duty comes first.”
Maybe he just didn’t want to dump me at school, in front of everyone?
I told him that I would try to get out of the ball early if I could. He said that if I did, I should stop by. The Moscovitzes’ apartment, I mean.
I know what this means, of course:
That he is going to dump me there.
OH, MY GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME????? I have known Michael for years and years. He is NOT the type of boy who would dump a girl just because she has a family obligation that must take precedence over a date with him. HE IS NOT LIKE THAT. THAT IS WHY I LOVE HIM.
But why can’t I stop thinking that the only reason he didn’t dump me right then and there is because he couldn’t do it in my own limo, in front of my bodyguard and driver? I mean, for all Michael knew, Lars might be trained to beat up boys who try to dump me in front of him.
I HAVE GOT TO STOP THIS. MICHAEL IS NOT DAVE FAROUQ EL-ABAR. He is NOT going to dump me because of this.
Except why do I feel like I know now how Jane Eyre must have felt when she learned the truth about Bertha on her wedding day? No, Michael doesn’t have a wife, that I know of. But it’s entirely possible that my relationship with him, like Jane’s with Mr. Rochester, is coming to an end. And I can think of no earthly way it can ever be repaired. I mean, it’s possible that tonight, when I go by the Moscovitzes’ place, it will be in flames, and I will be able to prove m
yself worthy of Michael’s love by selflessly saving his mother, or perhaps his dog, Pavlov, from the fire.
But other than that, I don’t see us getting back together. I will of course give him his birthday present, because I went to all the trouble of stealing it.
But I know it won’t do any good.
What is WRONG with me???? This better be PMS. Because if this is what love is like all the time, I don’t want to be in love anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
