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Glad to be back, Lilly.
Uh-oh…here’s the message from J.P.
Mia. Just wanted to say again how sorry I am about…well, everything. Even though the word “sorry” seems so inadequate. I hope you meant it when you said we could be friends. Because nothing would mean more to me. And thanks, too, for suggesting I call Stacey. You were right—she really is a wonderful person. And you don’t have to worry about the play. Sean’s company called this morning and it looks like there’s a problem with the option. Something to do with some lawyers. So I guess he won’t be producing it after all. But don’t worry, I’ll be all right. I have another idea for a play, a really great one about a playwright who is in love with an actress, only she—well, it’s complicated—I’d love to talk to you about it if you get a chance, you know how valuable I find your editorial input. Call me. J.P.
Really. You just have to laugh. Because what else can you do?
OMG, why won’t this guy shut up? I’m totally getting a sunburn sitting out here. If I get freckles, I’m suing this stupid school. Wait a minute…Geek, where did you disappear to last night? You look like you had SEX! Don’t try to deny it! OMG, the geek had SEX! HA HA HA! Isn’t it FUN, geek?????
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Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device
Sunday, May 7, 4 p.m., Tavern on the Green, table twelve
Everyone is making speeches and taking pictures and carrying on about how this is a day we’ll never forget.
It’s certainly a day Lana’s never going to forget…that’s because Mrs. Weinberger (at my urging, though I’ll never tell Lana, of course) presented Lana with the thing her heart most desired as a graduation present:
That’s right, the Weinbergers tracked down Bubbles, Lana’s pony that they gave away so many years ago, and gave it back to her. Bubbles was waiting for Lana in the Tavern on the Green parking lot when we all walked up here for our post-graduation reception.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone scream so joyously.
Or so loudly.
It’s a day Ken
neth’s not going to forget, either. That’s because his parents just handed him an envelope containing a letter from Columbia. He’s been taken off the waiting list.
So, it looks like he and Lilly won’t be separated by a state anymore. They’ll only be separated by a dorm—if that. There was a lot of joyous hugging and screaming over by that table, too.
At first I was kind of afraid to go over to where the Moscovitzes were sitting, even though Michael was totally hanging out with my parents. But I was shy about how the Drs. Moscovitz were going to feel about me. It was true I’d already seen them at the reception at Columbia, but that seemed so long ago, and, I don’t know, things seemed different now, on account of what had gone on last night (and this morning, too)!
But, of course, they didn’t know about that. And Michael had been brave in coming over to my house (not to mention, hanging out with Dad and Grandmère now). So the least I could do was return the favor.
So I did.
And, of course, it turned out fine. The Drs. Moscovitz—not to mention Nana—were totally delighted to see me. Because I’d made their son happy. And so that made them happy.
What was scary was when J.P. came over to our table with his parents to say hello. Now THAT was awkward.
“Well, Prince Phillipe,” Mr. Reynolds-Abernathy said, all sadly, shaking my dad’s hand. “Looks like our kids won’t be going to Hollywood together after all.”
But, of course, my dad had NO idea what he was talking about, because he’d never been let in on that plan (thank God) in the first place.
“Excuse me?” Dad said, looking totally confused.
“Hollywood?” Grandmère cried, looking appalled.
“Right,” I said quickly. “But that was before I decided on Sarah Lawrence.”
Grandmère sucked in so much air, it was a wonder there was any left for the rest of us to breathe.
“Sarah Lawrence?” she cried, in joyous wonder.
“Sarah Lawrence?” Dad echoed. It was one of the schools he’d thrown out, way back in ninth grade, as one of his top choices for me. But in a million years, I’m pretty sure he never thought I’d actually take him up on it.
But, as it happens, like Michael said, Sarah Lawrence is one of the colleges that don’t count SAT scores toward its entrance requirements. And it’s got a strong writing program. And it’s really close to New York City. Just in case I have to pop back into Manhattan to visit Fat Louie or Rocky.
