On the other hand, he's had a lot of experience in the romance department so I figured he might just be able to offer some insight into this particular dilemma.

'Dad,' I said. 'What do you do if you like someone but they don't, you know, know it?'

My dad went, 'If Kenny doesn't know you like him by now then I'm afraid he's never going to get the message. Haven't you been out with him every weekend since Halloween?'

This is the problem with having a bodyguard who is on your father's payroll: all of your personal business totally gets discussed behind your back.

'I'm not talking about Kenny, Dad,' I said. 'It's someone else. Only like I said, he doesn't know I like him.'

'What's wrong with Kenny?' my dad wanted to know. 'I like Kenny.'

Of course my dad likes Kenny. Because the chances of me and Kenny ever getting past first base are like nil. What father doesn't want his teenage daughter to date a guy like that?

But if my dad has any serious hope of keeping the Genovian throne in the hands of the Renaldos and not allowing it to slip

into Sebastiano's control, he had better get over the whole Kenny thing, because I'm pretty sure that Kenny and I will not be doing any procreating. In this lifetime, anyway.

'Dad,' I said. 'Forget Kenny, OK? Kenny and I are just friends. I'm talking about someone else.'

My dad was looking over the side of the balcony railing, like he wanted to spit. Not that he ever would. I don't think. 'Do I know him? This someone else, I mean?'

I hesitated. I've never really admitted to anyone out loud that I have a crush on Michael. Really. I mean, who could I tell? Lilly would just make fun of me - or worse, tell him. And Mom, well, she's got her own problems.

'It's Lilly's brother,' I said, in a rush, to get it over with.

My dad looked alarmed. 'Isn't he in college?'

'Not yet,' I said. 'He's going in the fall.' When he still looked alarmed, I said, 'Don't worry, Dad. I don't stand a chance. Michael is very smart. He'd never want someone like me.'

Then my dad got all offended. It was like he couldn't figure out which to be, worried about my liking a senior, or angry that

the senior didn't like me back.

'What do you mean, he'd never want someone like you?' my father demanded. 'What's wrong with you?'

'Duh, Dad,' I said. 'I practically flunked Algebra, remember? Michael is going to an Ivy League school in the fall, for crying

out loud. What would he want with a girl like me?'

Now my dad was really annoyed. 'You may take after your mother as far as your aptitude with numbers is concerned, but

you take after me in every other respect.'

This was surprising to hear. I stuck out my chin and tried to believe it. 'Yeah,' I said.

'And you and I, Mia, are not unintelligent,' my dad went on. 'If you want this Michael fellow, you must let him know it.' My

dad looked at all the lights stretched out before us before going on in a different voice, 'Do not make the mistake I have in the past, Mia, of keeping your feelings to yourself, out of shyness ... or worse, pride.'

I looked up at my dad kind of sharply at that. Because something in his voice ... I don't know. He just sounded so ... sad.

Was he, I couldn't help wondering, talking about Mom? Like he wished that, before she'd married Mr. Gianini, he had said something to her about how he felt about her? I mean about how he really felt about her - not about her leaving the electricity bills in the salad spinner, but about how he really felt, deep down?

I think maybe so. Especially when he looked down at me - my dad's not super tall, you know, for a guy, but he's taller than

me, anyway - and went, with his eyelids kind of crinkling up at the corners, 'Faint heart never won fair lady, you know, Mia.'

I didn't know what to say to that. I mean, how is a person supposed to reply to something like that?

Not that it ever would have worked out between them, whatever Dad might think. I mean, Mom would so never have fitted in back at the palace, given her enthusiasm for World's Scariest Police Car Chases (which I'm sure they don't have in Genovia) and her love of jalapeno nachos (ditto). She would have grown resentful and then made my dad's life a never-ending misery.

At least this way, he still gets to date Victoria's Secret underwear models.

So instead of saying anything like, 'Gee, Dad, sorry it didn't work out between you and Mom,' which would, of course, have been a lie, I just went, 'You think I should just go up to Michael and be like, "Hey, I like you?"

My dad shook his head in disgust. 'No, no, no,' he said. 'Of course you must be more subtle than that. Tell him by showing how you feel.'

'Oh,' I said. I may take after my father in every respect except my madis aptitude, but I had no idea what he was talking about. I kept seeing this picture in my head of me showing Michael how I felt about him by thrusting my tongue into his mouth in the hallway at school when I passed him between English and lunch - a kind of painful prospect, under the circumstances.

'We'd better get back in,' my father said. 'Or your grandmother will suspect us of plotting against her.'

So what else is new? Grandmere is always suspecting somebody of plotting against her. She thinks the launderers at the Plaza are plotting against her. She blames the soap they use on their linens for making all of Rommel's fur fall out.

Reminded of plots, I asked my dad, 'Do you think Sebastiano's plotting to kill me so he can ascend the throne himself?'

My dad made a strangled noise, but he managed not to burst out laughing. I guess that wouldn't have seemed very princely.

'No, Mia,' he said. 'I do not.'

But my dad, he really doesn't have much of an imagination. I have decided to stay on the alert about Sebastiano, just in case.

My mom just poked her head into my room to say that Kenny is on the phone for me.

I suppose he wants to ask me to the Non-Denominational Winter Dance. Really, it is about time.





Sunday; December 6, 11 p.m.

OK. I am in shock. Kenny so did NOT ask me to the Non-Denominational Winter Dance. Instead, this is how our conversation went:

Me: Hello?

Kenny: Hi, Mia. It's Kenny.

Me: Oh, hi, Kenny. What's the matter?

Kenny sounded funny, which is why I asked.

Kenny: Well, I just wanted to see if you were OK. I mean, if your tongue was OK.

Me: It's a little better, I guess.

Kenny: Because I was really worried. You know. I really, really didn't mean to pull you down like that.

Me: Kenny, I know. It was just an accident.

This is when I started realizing I'd asked my dad the wrong question. I should have asked him what's the best way to break up with somebody, not what's the best way to let someone know you like them.

Anyway, to get back to what Kenny said:

Kenny: Well, I just wanted to call and wish you a good night. And say that I hope you feel better. And also to let you know . .  well, Mia, that I love you.

Me: -------------


I didn't say anything right away, because I was completely FREAKED OUT!!!!

It wasn't exactly as if it happened out of the blue, because we are sort of going out, after all.

But still, what kind of guy calls a girl on the phone and says I love you??? Except for weird psycho stalkers? And Kenny's

not a weird psycho stalker. He's just Kenny. So what's he doing calling me on the phone and telling me he loves me????

And then, brilliant me, here's what I do. Because he was still on the phone, waiting for an answer and all. So I go: 

Me:  Um, OK.

Um, OK.

A boy says he loves me and this is how I respond: Um, OK. Oh, yeah, good thing my future career lies in the diplomatic

corps.

So then, poor Kenny, he's like waiting for some response other than Um, OK, as anybody would.

But 1 am perfectiy incapable of giving him one. Instead, I just go:

Me: Well, see you tomorrow.

AND I HUNG UP!!!!!

Oh my God, I am the meanest, most ungrateful girl in the world. After Sebastiano kills me, I am going to burn in hell.

Seriously.



To Do Before Leaving for Genovia


1. Detailed list for Mom and Mr. G: how to care for Fat Louie while I am away.

2. Stock up on cat food, litter.

3. Christmas/Hanukkah presents! For:

Mom — electric breast pump? Check this.

Mr. G new drum sticks.

Dad - book on vegetarianism. He should eat better if he wants to keep his cancer in remission.

Lilly - what she always wants, blank videotapes for her show.

Lars - see if Prada makes a shoulder holster that would fit his Glock.

Kenny - gloves? Something NON-romantic.

Fat Louie - catnip ball.

Grandmere — what do you get for the woman who has everything, including an eighty-nine carat sapphire pendant given to

her by the Sultan of Brunei? Soap or a rope?

4. Break up with Kenny . . . only how can I? He LOVES me.


Only not enough to ask me to the Non-Denominational Winter Dance, I've noticed.





Monday, December 7, Homeroom


Lilly doesn't believe me about Kenny calling and saying he loves me. I told her in the car on the way to school this morning (thank God Michael had a dentist appointment and wasn't there. I would sooner die than discuss my love life in front of him.