'Now that you have the number,' Tina said, 'how are you going to find out? Whether Michael is in love with you or not?

I mean, you're not just going to ask him, are you?'

'Well,' I said. 'Yeah. That was the plan.'

'You can't put him on the spot like that,' Tina said. 'You've got to be more subtle. Remember, he's Michael, which of course makes him vastly superior to most people, but he's still a guy.'

I hadn't thought of this. I hadn't thought of a lot of things, apparently. I couldn't believe that I had just been going along on

this sea of bliss, happy just to know Michael even liked me, while the whole time he could have been falling in love with someone else.

'Well,' I said. 'Maybe I should just be like, "Do you like me as a friend, or do you like me as a girlfriend?'"

'Mia,' Tina said, T really do not think you should ask Michael point-blank like that. He might run away in fear, like a startled fawn. Boys have a tendency to do that, you know. They aren't like us. They don't like to talk about their feelings.'

It is just so sad that to get any kind of trustworthy advice about men, I have to call someone six thousand miles away.

Thank God for Tina Hakim Baba, is all I have to say.

'So what do you think I should do?' I asked. 'Well, it's going to be hard for you to do anything,' Tina said, 'until you get back here. The only way to tell what a boy is feeling is to look into his eyes. You'll never get anything out of him over the phone. Boys are no good at talking on the phone.'

This was certainly true, if my ex-boyfriend Kenny had been any sort of indication.

'I know.' Tina said, sounding like she'd just gotten a good idea. 'Why don't you ask Lilly?'

'I don't know,' I said. 'I'd feel kind of funny about dragging her into something that's between Michael and me .. .' The truth was, Lilly and I still hadn't really even talked about me liking her brother, and her brother liking me back. I had always

thought she'd be kind of mad about it. But then it turned out in the end she actually kind of helped us get together, by

telling Michael I was the one who'd been sending him these anonymous love letters.

'Just ask her,' Tina said. 'And then call me back! I want to know what she says.' 'OK,' I said.

Then I hung up and looked at the number Tina had given me for Lilly and Michael's grandmother's condo. I have to admit

that, as I dialled, my fingers were shaking. I mean, I was going to talk to Michael - Michael, my new boyfriend, whom I'd l

oved for years and years - for the first time since we'd stood kissing outside my apartment building on Thompson Street.

What was I going to say? I had no idea. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was not going to say, 'Do you like me as

a friend, or do you like me as a girlfriend?' Because Tina had told me not to.

Lilly answered on the first ring. Our conversation went like this:

Lilly: (Sounding grouchy) It's about time. I thought you'd never call.

Me: (Sounding defensive) You never gave me your grandma's number.

Lilly: What? And you couldn't figure it out? I mean, you take off for Genovia, and you don't leave me a number

          where I can reach you . . .

Me: I didn't know the number. My dad always calls me. Besides, you didn't give me the number where you were

       going to be, either . . .

Lilly: You don't respond to my emails . . .

Me: There's no DSL here. Only dial-up, and it takes forever, and besides, I don't know how to access my account

        from Europe . . .

Lilly: I even called your mom, and she gave me the number, and the stupid palace operator wouldn't put me through!

         She said something about Prince William. Are you two going out now, or something?

Me: (Way surprised) Me and Prince William? NO! I barely said two words to him. Why? (Starting to panic) Did

       the papers say I'm going out with him? Because I'm not. I'm totally not. Does Michael think I'm going out with him?

Lilly: How should I know? I'd have to talk to him.

Me: You two aren't talking? Why aren't you talking? Because he's going out with another girl? Is that it, Lilly?

        Michael met another girl, didn't he? Does she know how to boogie board? Oh, my God, I'm going to kill myself.

Lilly: What happens when people go to Europe, anyway? Do they suddenly become insane, or something?

Me: Just tell me the truth, Lilly, I can take it. Has Michael found another girl? Is her name Tiffany? All girls from

       warm states are named Tiffany.

Lilly: First of all, for Michael to have met another girl, that would mean he'd have to tear himself from his laptop

         and leave the condo, which he hasn't done once the entire time we have been here. He is as pasty-skinned as

         ever. Secondly, he is not going to go out with some girl named Tiffany, because he likes you.

Me: (Practically crying with relief) Really, Lilly? You swear?You aren't just lying to make me feel better?

Lilly: No, I'm not. Though I don't know why I should be so nice to you, since you didn't even remember his birthday.

I felt something clutch at my throat. 'His birthday?' I shrieked. 'Oh my God, Lilly, I completely forgot!'

'Yes,' Lilly said. 'You did. But don't worry. I'm pretty sure he didn't expect a card or anything. I mean, you're off being the Princess of Genovia. How can you be expected to remember something as important as your boyfriend's birthday?'



This seemed really unfair to me. Michael and I have only been going out for twenty-one days, and for twenty of them,

I had neither seen nor spoken to him, not even once. Plus, I have been busy. I mean, it is all very well for Lilly to joke,

but I haven't seen her christening any battleships or campaigning among her populace for the rights of bottlenose dolphins.

It may never have occurred to anyone, but this princess stuff is hard work.

'Lilly,' I said. 'Can I talk to him, please? Michael, I mean?'

'I suppose,' Lilly said with a sigh, sounding very tired of me. Then she screamed, 'Michael! Phone!'

It was a long time after that that I finally heard some footsteps, and then Michael going to Lilly, 'Thanks,' and Lilly going, 'Whatever.' Then Michael picked up the phone and went, kind of curiously, since Lilly hadn't told him who it was, 'Hello?'

Just hearing his voice made me forget all about how it was gone two in the morning and I was miserable and hating my life. Suddenly it was like it was two in the afternoon and I was lying on one of the beaches I was working so hard to protect from erosion and pollution by tourists, with the warm sun pouring down on me and someone offering me an icy-cold Orangina from

a silver tray. That's how Michael's voice made me feel.

'Michael,' I said. 'It's me.'

'Mia,' he said, sounding genuinely happy to hear from me. I don't think it was my imagination, either. He really did sound pleased, and not like he was getting ready to dump me at all. 'How are you?'

'I'm OK,' I said. Then, to get it out as soon as possible, I went, 'Listen, Michael, I can't believe I missed your birthday. I suck.

I can't believe how much I suck. I am the most horrible person who ever walked the face of the planet. I should be in jail, like Winona Ryder.'

Then Michael did a miraculous thing. He laughed. Laughed! Like missing his birthday was nothing!

'Oh, that's all right,' he said. 'I know you're busy over there. And there's that time-zone thing, and all. So, how is it? How

did your speech go? The one on Genovian TV? Did your crown fall off? I know you were afraid it might.'

I practically melted right there in the middle of my big fancy royal bed, with the phone clutched to my ear and everything.

I couldn't believe he was being so nice to me, after the terrible thing I had done. It wasn't like twenty-one days had gone by at all. It was like we were still standing in front of my stoop, with the snow coming down and looking so white against Michael's dark hair, and Lars getting mad in the vestibule because we wouldn't stop kissing and he was cold and wanted to go inside already.

I couldn't believe I had ever thought Michael might fall in love with some Floridian girl with boobs and a boogie board.

I mean, I still wasn't exactly sure he was in love with me, or anything. But I was pretty sure he liked me.

And right there, at past two in the morning, sitting by myself in my royal bedchamber in the Palais de Genovia, that was enough.

So I told him about my speech, and how I'd ruined it by going off about the plastic six-pack holders, which Michael agreed was a vitally important issue. Then I told him about the sea turtles, and about my plan to organize teams of volunteers to

patrol the beaches during nesting season to make sure that the eggs were not disturbed by tourists, or by the machines they bring in every morning to comb the sand and pick up all the seaweed that washes up during high tide.

And then I asked him about his birthday, and he told me how they'd gone to Red Lobster, and Lilly had an allergic reaction

to her shrimp cocktail and they'd had to cut the meal short to go to Promptcare because she'd swelled up like Violet in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and now she has to carry a syringe filled with adrenaline around with her in case she accidentally ingests shellfish ever again, and how Michael's parents got him a new laptop for when he goes to college and