Princess Diaries Series: Third Time Lucky Part 21

I am turning into Courtney Love.

And, yeah, it's not like I'm not going to get into college because I was suspended for one day in the first semester of my freshman year, but how totally embarra.s.sing! Princ.i.p.al Gupta treated me like I was some kind of criminal or something.

And you know what they say: treat a person like a criminal and pretty soon she'll end up behaving like one. At least, I think that's what they say. The way things are going, I wouldn't be surprised if pretty soon I start wearing ripped-up fishnet stockings and dyeing my hair black. Maybe I'll even start smoking and get my ears double-pierced or something. And then they'll make

a TV movie about me and call it Royal Scandal. It will show me going up to Prince William and saying, 'Who's the most popular young royal now, huh, punk?' and then headb.u.t.ting him or something.

Except I practically fainted the first time I got my ears pierced, and smoking is really bad for you, and I always thought it must hurt to headb.u.t.t someone.

I guess I don't have the makings of a juvenile delinquent after all.

My dad doesn't think so, either. He's all ready to set the royal Genovian lawyers on Princ.i.p.al Gupta. The only problem, of course, is that I won't tell him - or anybody else, for that matter - what Lana said to make me a.s.sault her mobile.

It's kind of hard to prove the attack was provoked if the attacker won't say what the provocation was. My dad pleaded with me for a while when he came to pick me up from school, after having received The Call from Princ.i.p.al Gupta. But when I wouldn't tell him what he wanted, and Lars just looked carefully blank, my dad just went, 'Fine', and his mouth got all scrunchy like it does when Grandmere has one too many Sidecars and starts calling him Papa Cueball.

But how can I tell him what Lana said? If I do that, then everyone will know I'm guilty of not just one crime, but two!

Anyway, now I'm home, watching the Lifetime channel with my mother. She hasn't been doing much painting at her studio

since she got pregnant. This is on account of her being exhausted. It's quite hard to paint lying down, she's discovered. So instead she has been doing a lot of sketching in bed - mostly line drawings of Fat Louie, who seems to enjoy having someone home all day with him. He sits for hours on her bed, watching the pigeons on the fire escape outside her window.

But since I'm home today, Mom did some drawings of me. I think she is making my mouth too big, but I'm not saying anything as Mr. Gianini and I have discovered it's better not to upset my mother in her current hormonal state. Even the slightest

criticism - like asking her why she left the phone bill in the vegetable crisper a" can lead to hour-long crying jags.

While she sketched me, I watched a very excellent movie called Mother, May I Sleep with Danger? starring Tori Spelling

of Beverly Hills 90210 fame, as a girl who has an abusive boyfriend. I really don't get why any girl would stay with a guy who hits her, but my mom says it's all about self-esteem and your relationship with your father. Except that my mom doesn't have that great a relationship with Papaw, my grandfather, and if any guy ever tried to slug her, you can bet she'd put him in the hospital, so go figure.

As my mom drew, she tried to get me to spill my guts to her a" you know, about what Lana said that made me go on a mobile-stomping rampage. You could tell she was trying really hard to be all TV mom about it.

And I guess it must have worked because all of a sudden I found myself telling her all of it, every last thing: the stuff about Kenny and about my not liking to kiss him, and about him telling everybody that, and about how I plan to break up with him

as soon as Finals are over.

And along the way I mentioned Michael, and Judith Gershner, and Tina and the greeting cards, and the Winter Carnival, and Lilly and her protest and how I'm secretary of it, and just about everything else, except the part about pulling the fire alarm.

And after a while my mom stopped drawing and just looked at me.

Finally, when I was done, she said, 'You know what I think you need?'

And I said, 'What?'

And she said, 'A vacation.'

So then we had a sort of vacation, right there on her bed. I mean, she wouldn't let me go and study. Instead, she made me order a pizza and together we watched the satisfying but completely unbelievable end of Mother, May I Sleep with Danger?, which was followed, much to our joy, by the dishiest made-for-TV movie ever, Midwest Obsession, in which Courtney Thorne Smith plays the local Dairy Princess who goes around in a pink Cadillac wearing cow earrings, killing people like Tracey Gold (deep in the throes of her post Growing Pains anorexia) for messing with her boyfriend.

And the best part was, it was all based on a true story.

For a while, there on my mom's bed, it was almost like old times. You know, before my mom met Mr Gianini and I found out

I was a princess.

Except, of course, not really, because she's pregnant and I'm suspended.

But why quibble?

Friday; December 11, 8 p.m., the Loft Oh my G.o.d, I just checked my e-mail. I am being inundated with supportive messages from my friends!

They all want to congratulate me on my decisive handling of Lana Weinberger. They sympathize with my suspension and encourage me to stay firm in my refusal to back down from my stand against the administration (what stand against the administration? All I did was destroy a mobile phone. It has nothing to do with the administration). Lilly went so far as to compare me to Mary Queen of Scots, who was imprisoned and then beheaded by Elizabeth the First.

I wonder if Lilly would still think that if she knew that the reason I smashed Lana's mobile was because she was threatening

to spill the beans about my having pulled the fire alarm that ruined Lilly's walkout.

Lilly says it's all a matter of principle - that I was banished from the school for refusing to back down from my beliefs. But actually, I was banished from school for destroying someone else's private property - and I only did it to cover up for another crime that I committed.

No one knows that but me, though. Well, me and Lana. And even she doesn't know for sure why I did it. I mean, it could

have been just one of those random acts of violence that are going around.

Everyone else, however, is seeing it as this great political act. Tomorrow, at the first meeting of the Students Against the Corporatization of Albert Einstein High School, my case is going to be held up as an example of one of the many unjust decisions of the Gupta administration.

I think tomorrow I might develop a case of weekend strep throat.

Anyway, I wrote back to everyone, telling them how much I appreciate their support but not to make a bigger deal out of this than it actually is. I mean, I'm not proud of what I did. I would much rather have NOT done it and stayed in school.

One bright note: Michael is definitely getting the cards I've been sending him. Tina walked by his locker today after PE and

saw him take the latest one out and put it in his backpack! Unfortunately, according to Tina, he did not wear an expression of dazed pa.s.sion as he slipped the card into his bag, nor did he gaze at it tenderly. He did not even put it away very carefully. Tina regretted to inform me that he slipped his Imac laptop into his backpack next, undoubtedly squashing the card.

But he wouldn't, Tina hastened to a.s.sure me, have done that if he'd known it was from you, Mia! Maybe if you'd signed it...

But if I signed it, he'd know I like him! More than that, he'd know I love him, since I do believe the L word was mentioned in

at least one card. And what if he doesn't feel the same way about me? How embarra.s.sing! Way worse than being suspended.

Oh, no! As I was writing this, I got Instant Messaged by, of all people, Michael himself! I freaked out so bad that I shrieked and scared Fat Louie, who was sleeping on my lap as I wrote. He sank all of his claws into me, and now I have little puncture marks all over my thighs.

Michael wrote: CracKing: Hey, Thermopolis, what's this I hear about you getting suspended?

I wrote back: FtLouie: Just for one day.

CracKing: What'd you do?

FtLouie: crushed a cheerleader's mobile phone.

CracKing: Your parents must be so proud.

FtLouie: If so, they've done a pretty good job of disguising it so far.

CracKing: So, are you grounded?

FtLouie: Surprisingly, no. I told them the attack on the phone was provoked.

CracKing: So you'll still be going to the Carnival next week?

FtLouie: AS secretary to the Students Against the Corporatization of Albert Einstein High. I believe my attendance is required. Your sister is planning for us to have a booth.

CracKing: That Lilly. She's always looking out for the good of mankind.

FtLouie: That's one way of putting it.

Winter Carnival. What is up with that?

Friday, December 11, 9 p.m., the Loft Now we know why Mr. G was'so late getting home: He stopped along the way to buy a Christmas tree.

Not just any Christmas tree, either, but a twelve-footer that must be at least six feet wide at the base.