But I do want to say something important, and that is this:

If Dad thinks I’m spending this summer in Genovia, he’s totally nuts.

Oh my God,DAD ! I forgot to check and see how the election is going!

 

Sunday, May 7, 1:30 p.m., limo on the way to

Central Park

Okay, so Dad WON THE ELECTION!

Yeah, I’m still not sure how that happened. I accused Michael, on top of all the many other wonderful things he’s done for me lately, of rigging the Genovian voting machines.

But he swears that, although he is a computer genius, he is not capable of rigging voting machines in a small European country many thousands of miles from where he lives.

Besides, in Genovia they use Scantron.

It actually turned out Dad won by a significant majority. The problem was that they’re unaccustomed to voting there, so it took them a long time to count them all. Voter turnout was quite a bit higher than expected.

And then René couldn’t believe he didn’t win, and demanded a recount.

Poor René. It’s okay, though. Dad’s promised a place for him on the cabinet. Probably something to do with tourism. Which I think is very decent of Dad.

I found all this out from Dad on the phone. It wasn’t a transatlantic call, though. He was phoning from Grandmère’s. Dad’s back here for my graduation ceremony. Which is in half an hour.

It’s too bad he doesn’t fly commercially because he could really rack up the frequent flyer miles with all the time he’s put in, jetting between New York City and Genovia this past week. I’ve already spoken to him about his carbon footprint.

Anyway, everyone acted totally cool when I showed up at the loft wearing my prom clothes with Michael in tow. Like, nobody said anything to embarrass me, like, “Oh, hey, Mia, how was it at the all-night bowling alley?” or “Mia, didn’t you leave the house last night with adifferent guy?”

Mom seemed pretty pleased to see Michael, actually. She knows how much I’ve always loved him, and she can tell how happy Michael makes me, which, in turn, makesher happy.

And she never made it much of a secret that she couldn’t stand J.P. At least she doesn’t have to worry aboutMichael being a chameleon.He has an opinion about everything.

And he’s not shy about expressing it, either,especially when it’s opposite of my own, since that gets us arguing, which gets us…well, in the mood for kissing. That’s major histocompatibility complex for you.

Sadly, I’m not sure Rocky actually remembers Michael at all. Which makes sense, since the last time he saw him was almost two years ago, and Rocky’s barely three.

But Rocky seems to really like him. He right away showed Michael his drums, and how adept he is at pulling out tufts of Fat Louie’s fur if Fat Louie doesn’t run away fast enough.

Anyway, we’re all headed uptown to the graduation ceremony now, where we’re going to meet Dad and Grandmère. I’ve got on the dress everyone chose for me to wear today (another one of Sebastiano’s creations, exactly like the one I wore last night, only pure white) under my graduation gown. I’m trying to ignore the 80,000 text and phone messages I’ve gotten from Tina and Lana, most of which, I’m pretty sure, have to do with where I disappeared to last night. Well, okay, Lana’s are probably all about her Westpointer.

But, come on. A girl’s got to havesome privacy.

One of my text messages, I see, is from J.P. But I’m not opening it with Michael in the car.

Another one is from Lilly. But whatever. I’m going to see all these people in, like, five minutes! So whatever it is, they can just tell me in person.

And now I have to go, because Rocky’s discovered the buttons that control the moonroof. My little brother has a lot in common with his cousin Hank.

 

Sunday, May 7, 2:30 p.m., Sheep Meadow, Central Park

Oh my God, Kenny—I mean, Kenneth—is giving the most boring valedictorian speech I have ever heard. All valedictorian speeches are boring (at least, the ones I’ve heard).

But this one takes the cake. Seriously, it’s about dust particles, or something. Or maybe not dust particles. But some kind of particles. Who even cares? It’s so hot up on these bleachers.

And no one is paying the slightest bit of attention to him. Lana is actually sleeping. Even Lilly, the valedictorian’s own girlfriend, is texting someone.

I just want to get out of here so I can go have cake. Hello? Is that so wrong?

Yeah. I guess it is.

Ack—someone is texting me….

Mia, what is going on? I’ve been texting you all morning. Is everything all right? I saw J.P. last night with STACEY CHEESEMAN! They went up the elevators together. Where were U????

Oh, hey, T! It’s all good! J.P. and I broke up. But it was 100% mutual. I actually went over to Michael’s last night.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That’s what I said!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG that is so romantic!!!! I’m so happy for you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know! Me too. I love him so much!!!! And he loves me!!!!!!!!!!! And everything is perfect. Except I wish this stupid speech would be over so we could all go eat cake.

Yeah, me too. The only thing is, this morning on my way here I could have sworn I saw Stacey Cheeseman making out withAndrew Lowenstein at a Starbucks downtown. But no way right, ’cause she’s with J.P. now. Right?

Um. Right!

Oh, another text—

Hey, POG. I saw you leave the hotel last night with my brother.

It’s Lilly!!!!

Is that a problem? He said you sent him!!!!

It’s cool. But you better not break his heart again. Or this time I really WILL break your face.

Nobody’s heart is going to get broken this time around, Lilly. We’re all grown up now.

Ha. Not likely. But…I’m glad you’re back, POG.

Awwww…

Glad tobe 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?????

—————————————

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 Kenneth’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.”