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And, like I said, we kept on kissing, passionately, for twenty-something blocks instead. Or whatever. Math’s not my best subject.
Actually, as long as I’m confessing everything, I should admit there was more than kissing. There was a little—discreet—below-the-neck action as well. I really hope Lars did what Michael asked and didn’t turn around.
Anyway, when the carriage stopped, I finally came to my senses. I guess it was the fact there was no more clip-clopping sound. Or maybe it was just the final lurch that practically threw us both off the bench.
That’s when I was like, “Oh my God!” and stared up at Michael, all horrified, realizing what I’d just done.
Which was make out with a boy who wasn’t my boyfriend. For a really long time.
I guess the most horrifying part was how much I’d liked it. Which was a lot. A whole lot. That major histocompatibility complex thing? It does NOT mess around.
And I could tell Michael had felt the same way.
“Mia,” he said, looking down at me with his dark eyes filled with something I was almost afraid to put a name to, and his chest going all up and down like he’d just been running. His hands were in my hair. He was cradling my head. “You have to know. You have to know I lo—”
But I smashed my hand over his mouth just like I’d done to Tina. My hand that used to have the three-carat diamond ring on it. From another boy.
I said, “DO NOT SAY IT.”
Because I knew what he was going to say.
That’s when I said, instead, “Lars, we’re leaving. Now.”
And Lars hopped down from the top of the carriage and helped me from the bench. And the two of us went to my waiting limo.
And I climbed inside. And I totally did not look back.
Not even once.
And there’s a message on my phone from Michael, but I’m not looking at what it says. I’m NOT.
Because I can’t do this to J.P. I can’t.
Oh my God, though. I love Michael so much.
Oh, thank God. We’re here.
Dr. Knutz and I have a lot to talk about today.
Friday, May 5, 6 p.m., limo home from Dr. Knutz’s office
When I walked into Dr. Knutz’s office, Grandmère was there. AGAIN.
I demanded to know why. WHY she keeps insisting on violating my doctor-patient confidentiality. And okay, today was supposed to be my last therapy session ever, but still. Just because I’d invited her to join me a few times before didn’t mean she could keep showing up to my appointments ALL the time.
She tried to use the excuse that this is the only place she knows she can find me. (Too bad she didn’t look out her window at the Plaza a little while ago, she could have seen her granddaughter going around Central Park in a horse-and-carriage in a lip-lock with a boy who is not her boyfriend.)
Which I supposed (then) was a reasonable excuse. But that still didn’t make it RIGHT, and I told her that.
Of course, she fully ignored me. She said she needed to know if it was true I’m getting a romance novel published and if so how I could do this to the family and why didn’t I just shoot her if I wanted to kill her, and get it over with? Why did I have to do it this way, by slowly humiliating her in front of all her friends? Why couldn’t I be more like Bella Trevanni Alberto who is such a perfect granddaughter (I swear if I have to hear this one more time…)?
Then she started in about Sarah Lawrence (again) and how she knows I have to pick a college by election day (also PROM), and if I’d just pick Sarah Lawrence (the college she would have gone to if she’d bothered going to college), then everything would be all right.
I let out a shriek of frustration and stormed right past Grandmère and straight into Dr. Knutz’s office without waiting to hear any more. Because really, how ridiculous can that woman be? Besides, I was in crisis mode, what with this thing with Michael. I don’t have time for Grandmère’s histrionics.
Anyway, Dr. Knutz listened calmly to what had just happened—with me and Grandmère, I mean—and said he was sorry, and that obviously, since this was my last session, it wouldn’t happen again, but that he’d speak to Grandmère if I wanted. For what good that will do.
Then he listened to me describe what had just happened with Michael.
