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Well, except maybe when I go swimming. Because I wouldn’t want it to get lost.
Friday, May 2, 1:10 a.m., the loft
He loves me!
Friday, May 2, Algebra
Oh, my God. It is all over the city. About Grandmère and the incident at Les Hautes Manger last night, I mean. It must be a slow news day, because even The Post picked it up. It was right there on the front cover at the newsstand on the corner:
A ROYAL MESS, screams The Post.
PRINCESS AND THE PEA(SOUP), claims The Daily News (erroneously, since it wasn’t pea soup at all, but lobster bisque).
It even made The Times! You would think that The New York Times would be above reporting something like that, but there it was, in the Metro Section. Lilly pointed it out as she climbed into the limo with Michael this morning.
“Well, your grandmother’s certainly done it this time,” Lilly says.
As if I didn’t already know it! As if I wasn’t already suffering from the crippling guilt of knowing that I was, even in an indirect manner, to blame for Jangbu’s loss of livelihood!
Although I do have to admit that I was somewhat distracted from my grief over Jangbu by the fact that Michael looked so incredibly hot, as he does every morning when he gets into my limo. That is because when we go to pick him and Lilly up for school, Michael has always just shaved, and his face is looking all smooth. Michael is not a particularly hairy person, but it is true that by the end of the day—which is when we usually end up doing our kissing, since we are both somewhat shy people, I think, and we have the cover of darkness to hide our burning cheeks—Michael’s facial hair has gotten a bit on the sandpapery side. In fact, I can’t help thinking that it would be much nicer to kiss Michael in the morning, when his face is all smooth, than at night, when it is all scratchy. Especially his neck. Not that I have ever thought about kissing my boyfriend’s neck. I mean, that would just be weird.
Although as far as boys’ necks go, Michael has a very nice one. Sometimes on the rare occasions when we are actually alone long enough to start making out, I put my nose next to Michael’s neck and just inhale. I know it sounds strange, but Michael’s neck smells really, really nice, like soap. Soap and something else. Something that makes me feel like nothing bad could ever happen to me, not when I am in Michael’s arms, smelling his neck.
IF ONLY HE WOULD ASK ME TO THE PROM!!!!!!!!! Then I could spend a whole NIGHT smelling his neck, only it would look like we were dancing, so no one, not even Michael, would know.
Wait a minute. What was I saying before I got distracted by the smell of my boyfriend’s neck?
Oh, yes. Grandmère. Grandmère and Jangbu.
Anyway, none of the newspaper articles about what happened last night mention the part about Rommel. Not one. There is not even a hint of a suggestion that the whole thing might possibly have been Grandmère’s own fault. Oh no! Not at all!
But Lilly knows about it, on account of Michael having told her. And she had a lot to say about it.
“What we’ll do,” she said, “is we’ll start making signs in Gifted and Talented class, and then we’ll go over after school.”
“Go over where?” I wanted to know. I was still busy staring at Michael’s smooth neck.
“To Les Hautes Manger,” Lilly said. “To start the protest.”
“What protest?” All I seemed to be able to think about was whether my neck smells as good to Michael as his does to me. To tell the truth, I cannot even remember a time when Michael might have smelled my neck. Since he is taller than me, it is very easy for me to put my nose up to his neck and smell it. But for him to smell mine, he would have to lean down, which might look a bit weird, and could conceivably cause whiplash.
“The protest against their unfair dismissal of Jangbu Panasa!” Lilly shouted.
Great. So now I know what I am doing after school. Like I don’t have enough problems, what with
My princess lessons with Grandmère
Homework
Worrying about the party Mom is having for me Saturday night and the fact that probably no one will show up, and even if they do it is entirely possible that my mom and Mr. G might do something to embarrass me, such as complain about their bodily functions or possibly start playing the drums
Next week’s menu for The Atom being due
The fact that my father expects me to spend sixty-two days with him in Genovia this summer
My boyfriend still not having asked me to the prom
Oh, no, let me just FORGET ALL ABOUT all of THAT stuff and worry about Jangbu. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am totally worried about him, but hello, I have my own problems, too. Like the fact that Mr. G just passed back the quizzes from Monday, and mine has a big red C minus on it and a note: SEE ME.
