CHAPTER TWO

SATURDAY, JANUARY 5

Over. That is what my life is: O-V-E-R. I mean, my life is over, and this time I really mean it. And why? Why this time?

Surprisingly, it’s not because two years ago I found out I’m the heir to the throne of a small European nation. I am so not the royal princess type. Or because my mother, who is expecting to give birth to my algebra teacher’s child in approximately six months. Or even because at school they’ve been loading us down with so much homework, and after school, grandma’s been torturing me endlessly with all the princess stuff. The one that hurt most is that grandma said I won’t need to finish my senior year; after this, I'm getting into college, and everything is set out for me, and I will study plastic surgery. I love playing doctor, and now the dream is coming true. I'm happy but not happy because I'll leave for Chicago in less than a year, and I haven’t told any of the Acadellas.

With all this princess stuff, I haven’t been able to keep up with my journal, let alone anything else, for the past two years. OH, NO. It’s not because of any of that. Why is my life over? It’s actually because I have a boyfriend. And yes, at seventeen, my first-ever boyfriend.

I suppose it’s weird. I mean, all my friends don’t have one yet—Lilwe and Adam are couples, but not yet approved by Lisa. Even Diamond Elvis doesn’t have a boyfriend because she feels having one is like taking care of a baby; it takes a lot of work. Diamond has lots of guy crushes but doesn’t want any.

And then, one day, out of the blue, I got one. A boyfriend, I mean. Well, okay, not out of the blue. Michael, from my biology class, started sending me letters. I didn’t know it was him. I kinda hoped it was someone else, like Noah Elvis. But in the end, it turned out to be Michael. And by then, I was in too deep to get out. So voilà! I have a boyfriend. Problem solved, right? Not. So not.

It isn’t that I don’t like Michael. I do. I really do. We have lots in common. For instance, we appreciate life's preciousness and refuse to dissect fetal pigs and frogs in biology. Instead, we're writing term papers on life cycles of grub and mealworms. We both like comics, but he prefers Japanese anime. He’s also into science fiction, which I told him I like but hate.

Since there are few girls in science fiction, I haven't told Michael. Most Japanese anime girls seem braless, and excessive hair distracts fighter pilots. But like I said, I haven't mentioned this.

We get along great, having fun (as if)! Having a boyfriend's nice; no worries about school dance dates. Isn't this great? Me, living a princess life? Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest girl. I'm pretty, have the best body, live in New York, and have a boyfriend. What more?

Oh, God! Who am I kidding?????

This boyfriend? Yeah, here's the scoop: I DON'T EVEN LIKE HIM. Okay, that's wrong; Michael's nice. Funny, cute (tall and skinny). My heart doesn't beat faster seeing him. No sparks. Nil. Nada. When he tries kissing me, I dodge.

When Michael gazes deeply, asking what I'm thinking, I'm thinking of Diamond's brother, Noah Elvis, whom I've loved my entire life.