week and all.'

I dimly remembered, one day before Thanksgiving Break, Tina dragging me over to a folding table where some nerdy-looking kids from the student government were sitting on one side of the cafeteria with a big jar filled with little pieces of paper. Tina had made me write my name on a slip of paper, then pick, someone else's name out of the jar.

'Oh my God,' I cried. With all the stress of Finals and everything, I had forgotten all about it!

Worse, I had forgotten that I had drawn Tina's name. No real coincidence since she'd stuffed her slip of paper into the jar

right before I picked. Still, what kind of heinous friend am I that I would forget something like this?

Then I realized something else. The yellow roses. They hadn't been put in my locker by mistake! And they really weren't from Kenny, either! They had to be from my Secret Snowflake.

Which was kind of upsetting in a way. I mean, it's really starting to look as if Kenny has no intention of asking me to tomorrow night's dance whatsoever.

'I can't believe you forgot about it,' Tina said, sounding amused. 'You have been getting stuff for your Secret Snowflake, haven't you, Mia?'

I felt a rush of guilt. I had totally blown it. Poor Tina!

'Uh, sure,' I said, wondering where I was going to find a present for her by tomorrow morning, the last day of the Secret Snowflake thing. 'Sure, I have.'

Tina sighed. 'I guess nobody picked me,' she said. 'Because I haven't gotten anything.'

'Oh, don't worry,' I said, hoping the guilt washing over me wasn't noticeable in my voice. 'You will. Your Secret Snowflake is probably waiting, you know, until the last day because she's - or he's — gotten you something really good.'

'Do you think so?' Tina asked wistfully.

'Oh, yes,' I gushed.

Reassured, Tina got businesslike.

'Now,' she said, 'that Finals are over . . . '

'Um, yes?'

'... when are you going to tell Michael that you're the one who sent him those cards?'

Shocked, I went, 'How about never?'

To which Tina replied, tartly, 'Mia, if you don't tell him, then what was the point of sending those cards?'

'To let him know that there are other girls out there who might like him, besides Judith Gershner.'

Tina said severely, 'Mia, that's not enough. You've got to tell him it was you. How are you ever going to get him if he doesn't know how you feel?' Tina Hakim Baba, surprisingly, has a lot in common with my dad. 'Remember Kenny? That's how

Kenny got you. He sent the anonymous notes but then he finally fessed up.'

'Yeah,' I said sarcastically. 'And look how great that turned out.'

'It'll be different with you and Michael,' Tina insisted.

'Because you two are destined for one another. I can just feel it. You've got to tell him, and it's got to be tomorrow, because the next day you are leaving for Genovia.'

Oh, God. In my self-congratulations over having successfully manoeuvered my first press conference, I'd forgotten about that too. I am leaving for Genovia the day after tomorrow! With Grandmere! To whom I am not even speaking any more!

I told Tina that I'd confess to Michael tomorrow and she hung up all happily.

But it was a good thing she hadn't been able to see my nostrils, because they were flaring like crazy on account of the fact that I was totally lying to her.

Because there is no way I am ever telling Michael Moscovitz how I feel about him. No matter what anyone says. I can't.

Not to his face.

Not ever.






Friday, December 18, Homeroom


They are holding us hostage here in Homeroom until they've passed out our final semester grades. Then we are free to spend the rest of the day at the Winter Carnival in the gym, and then, later this evening, the dance.

Really. We don't have any more classes after this. We are just supposed to have fun.

As if. I am so never having fun again.

That is because - aside from my many other problems -I think I know who my Secret Snowflake is.

Really, there is no other explanation. Why else would Justin Baxendale — who, even though he's so new is still totally popular, not to mention way good-looking - be hanging around my locker so much? I mean, seriously. This is the third time I've spotted him lurking around there this week. Why would he do that except to leave those roses?

Unless he's planning on blackmailing me about the whole fire alarm thing.

But Justin Baxendale doesn't exactly strike me as the blackmailer type. I mean, he looks to me like somebody who'd have something better to do than blackmail a princess.

Which leaves only one other explanation: he is my Secret Snowflake.

And how totally embarrassing is it going to be if I go out there when the bell rings, and Justin comes up to me to confess - because that's the rule, it turns out: you have to reveal your identity to your Secret Snowflake today - and I have to look up into his smoky eyes with those long lashes and give a big fake smile and go, 'Oh, gee, thanks, Justin. I had no idea it was you!'

Whatever. But actually, this is the least of my problems, right? I mean, considering that I am the only girl in this entire school who does not have a date to the dance tonight. And that tomorrow I have to leave for a country I am princess of, with my lunatic grandmother who isn't speaking to my father, and who, I know from past experience, is not above smoking in the airplane lavatory, if the urge to do so strikes her.

Really. Grandmere is a flight attendant's worst nightmare.

But that's not even half of it. I mean, what about my mom and Mr. Gianini? Sure, they are acting like they don't mind that I am going to be spending the holidays in another country.-And, yes, we are going to have our own private little Christmas amongst ourselves before I leave. But really, I bet they mind. I bet they mind a lot.

And what about my grade in Algebra? Oh, Mr. Gianini says it's fine, but what is fine, exactly? A D? A D is not fine. Not considering the number of hours I've put into raising my grade from an F, it isn't. A D is not acceptable.

And what - oh, God, what - am I going to do about Kenny?

At least I got Tina's present out of the way. I went on-line last night and signed her up for a teen romance book-of-the-month club. I printed out the certificate, saying she is an official member, and will give it to her when the bell rings.

Which is also when I have to go out there and face Justin Baxendale.

It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for those eyes of his. Why does he have to be so good-looking? And why did someone like him have to pick me as his Secret Snowflake? Beautiful people, like Lana and Justin, can't help but be repulsed by ordinary-looking people like me.

He probably didn't even pull my name from that jar at all. Probably, he picked Lana's name and has been putting those roses

in my locker, thinking it is Lana's, seeing as how God knows she never hangs out in front of her own locker.

What's even worse is that Tina told me yellow roses mean love everlasting.

Which of course was why I figured maybe Kenny was the one doing it after all.

Oh, great. They are passing around the printouts with our grades on them. I am not looking. I don't even care. I DO NOT CARE ABOUT MY GRADES.

Thank God for the bell. I'm just going to slip out of here — totally not looking at my grades - and go about my business like nothing out of the ordinary is going on.

Except, of course, when I get to my locker, Justin is there, looking for someone. Lana is there too, waiting for Josh.

You know, I really don't need this. Justin revealing that he is my Secret Snowflake right in front of Lana, I mean. God only knows what she's going to say - the girl who has been suggesting I wear Band Aids instead of a bra every day since the two

of us hit puberty. Plus it isn't like she's been super-happy with me since the whole mobile phone thing. I'll bet she'll have something extra-mean all prepared for the occasion . . .

'Dude,' Justin says.

Dude? I am not a dude. Who is Justin talking to?

I turn around. Josh is standing there, behind Lana.

'Dude, I've been looking for you all week,' Justin says, to Josh. 'Do you have those Trig notes for me or not? I've got to make-up the Final in one hour.'

Josh says something, but I do not hear him. I do not hear him because there is a roaring sound in my ears. Because standing behind Justin is Michael.

Michael Moscovitz,.

And in his hand is a yellow rose.







Friday, December 18, Winter Carnival


Oh, God.

I am in so much trouble.

Again.

And it isn't even my fault this time. I mean, I couldn't help myself. It just happened. And it doesn't mean anything. It was just, you know, one of those things.

Besides, it's not what Kenny thinks. Really. I mean, if you think about it, it is a complete and total letdown. For me, anyway.

Because, of course, the first thing Michael says when he sees me standing there gaping at him while he is holding that flower,

is, 'Here. This just fell out of your locker.'

I took it from him in a complete daze. I swear to God my heart was beating so hard, I thought I was going to pass out.

Because I thought they'd been from him. The roses, I mean. For a minute there, I really did think Michael Moscovitz had

been leaving me roses.

But of course this time, there's a note attached to the rose. It says:


Good luck with your trip to Genovia! See you when you get back!