Read Princess in the Spotlight Online
Authors: Meg Cabot
Princess in the Spotlight
Meg Cabot
The Princess Diaries, Volume II
Princess in the Spotlight
For my grandparents,
Bruce and Patsy Mounsey,
who are nothing like any
of the grandparents in this book.
When things are horrible—just horrible—
I think as hard as ever I can of being a princess.
I say to myself,
“I am a princess.”
You don’t know how it makes you forget.
A LITTLE PRINCESS
Frances Hodgson Burnett
Okay. So I was just in the kitchen, eating cereal,…
I am really trying to take this calmly, you know?
Monday, October 20, Still Homeroom
And what about that? Why weren’t she and Mr. Gianini…
I can’t believe this. I really can’t believe this.
Great. Just great.
Okay, Lilly knows.
And what about that, anyway? How many dates has my…
Still Monday, October 20, Still G & T
Lilly caught me looking up stuff about pregnancy on the…
Monday, October 20, After school
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, suddenly, they did.
Just got off the phone with Grandmère. She wanted to…
Some surprise that was.
My mom came in. I thought Mr. G had left, so…
Hey, I thought my mom was a feminist who didn’t believe…
Oh, my God. I just realized that if my mom…
When I woke up this morning, my throat hurt so…
My mom stayed home from the studio today.
Lilly just stopped by. She brought me all of my…
This morning my mom called my dad where he’s staying…
Oh, my God. Something so exciting just happened, I can…
This afternoon while I was lying around with icepacks under…
After dinner I felt well enough to get out of…
I AM BETTER!!!!!
LIST FIVE BASIC TYPES OF GOVERNMENT
It turns out that since I’ve been gone, Boris has…
Talk about embarrassing! Principal Gupta somehow found out about my…
What am I supposed to do about this stupid English…
Saturday, October 25, 2 p.m., Grandmère’s suite
I am sitting here waiting for my interview. In addition…
Saturday, October 25, 7 p.m., on the way to Lilly’s house
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,…
Sunday, October 26, 2 a.m., Lilly’s bedroom
Okay, I just have one question: Why does it always…
I was really afraid that when I got home my…
You will not believe what got delivered to our house…
Another e-mail from Jo-C-rox!
Unfortunately, it appears that Lilly is not the only one…
Mrs. Sing, our Biology teacher, says it is physiologically impossible to…
Monday, October 27, After school
I never thought I would say this, but I am…
I figured as soon as I got home, I would…
Tuesday, October 28, Principal Gupta’s office
Oh, God! No sooner had I set foot in Homeroom…
Principal Gupta is way concerned about my mental health.
Well, Mrs. Hill didn’t get fired.
I am winning friends and influencing people everywhere I go…
Tuesday, October 28, 6 p.m., On the way back to the loft from Grandmère’s
What with all the backlash about my interview on TwentyFour/Seven,…
Tuesday, October 28, 10 p.m., The loft
Well, it happened. The impending disaster is now officially a…
Another e-mail from Jo-C-rox!
Wednesday, October 29, English
Well, one thing is for sure:
I don’t believe this. I really don’t.
Wednesday, October 29, World Civ
Still no sign of them.
Still nothing.
Wednesday, October 29, Algebra Review
Lars says he thinks it would be precipitous at this…
It’s all right. They’re safe.
Wednesday, October 29, 10 p.m.
Okay, so I was just casually flipping through the channels,…
Hank didn’t come to school with me today. He called…
Thursday, October 30, World Civ
THINGS TO DO BEFORE MR. G. MOVES IN
I don’t believe this.
Thursday, October 30, 7 p.m., Limo back to the loft
Another huge shock. If my life continues along this roller-coaster…
More Thursday, October 30, 9 p.m.
Well, Mr. Gianini is all moved in. I have already played…
I woke with the strangest feeling of foreboding. I couldn’t…
Mr. Gianini is not here today. Instead, we have a substitute…
Okay.
I borrowed Lars’s cell phone and called the SoHo Grand…
I am in shock. I really am.
The evening wasn’t a total bust.
Okay. So I was just in the kitchen, eating cereal, you know, the usual Monday morning routine, when my mom comes out of the bathroom with this funny look on her face. I mean, she was all pale and her hair was kind of sticking out and she had on her terry cloth robe instead of her kimono, which usually means she’s premenstrual.
So I said, “Mom, you want some Midol? Because, no offense, you look like you could use some.”
Which is sort of a dangerous thing to say to a premenstrual woman, but you know, she’s my mom, and all. It’s not like she was going to karate chop me, the way she would if anybody else said that to her.
But she just said, “No. No, thanks,” in this dazed voice.
So then I assumed something really horrible had happened. You know, like Fat Louie had eaten another sock, or they were cutting off our electricity again because I’d forgotten to fish the bill out of the salad bowl where Mom keeps stuffing them.
So I grabbed her and I was like, “Mom? Mom, what is it? What’s wrong?”
She sort of shook her head, like she does when she’s confused over the microwave instructions on a frozen pizza. “Mia,” she said, in this shocked but happy way, “Mia. I’m pregnant.”
Oh, my God. OH, MY GOD.
My mom is having my Algebra teacher’s baby
.
I am really trying to take this calmly, you know? Because there isn’t any point in getting upset about it.
But how can I
NOT
be upset? My mother is about to become a single parent.
AGAIN
.
You would think she’d have learned a lesson with me and all, but apparently not.
As if I don’t have enough problems. As if my life isn’t over already. I just don’t see how much more I can be expected to take. I mean, apparently, it is not enough that
1. I am the tallest girl in the freshman class.
2. I am also the least endowed in the chest area.
3. Last month, I found out my mother has been dating my Algebra teacher.
4. Also last month, I found out that I am the sole heir to the throne of a small European country.
5. I have to take princess lessons from my paternal grandmother.
Every day
.
6. In December, I am supposed to be introduced to my new countrymen and women on national television (in Genovia, population 50,000, but still).
7. I don’t have a boyfriend.
Oh, no. You see, all of that isn’t enough of a burden, apparently. Now my mother has to get pregnant out of wedlock.
AGAIN
.
Thanks, Mom. Thanks a whole lot.
And what
about
that? Why weren’t she and Mr. Gianini using birth control? Could someone please explain that to me? Whatever happened to her diaphragm? I know she has one. I found it once in the shower when I was a little kid. I took it and used it as a birdbath for my Barbie townhouse for a few weeks, until my mom finally found out and took it away.
And what about condoms??? Do people my mother’s age think they are immune to sexually transmitted diseases? They are obviously not immune to pregnancy, so what gives?
This is
so
like my mother. She can’t even remember to buy toilet paper. How is she going to remember to use birth control????????
I can’t believe this. I really can’t believe this.
She hasn’t told him. My mother is having my Algebra teacher’s baby,
and she hasn’t even told him.
I can tell she hasn’t told him, because when I walked in this morning, all Mr. Gianini said was, “Oh, hi, Mia. How are you doing?”
Oh, hi, Mia. How are you doing?????
That is not what you say to someone whose mother is having your baby. You say something like, “Excuse me, Mia, may I see you a moment?”
Then you take the daughter of the woman with whom you have committed this heinous indiscretion out into the hallway, where you fall on bended knee to grovel and beg for her approval and forgiveness. That is what you do.
I can’t help staring at Mr. G and wondering what my new baby brother or sister is going to look like. My mom is totally hot, like Carmen Sandiego, only without the trench coat—further proof that I am a biological anomaly, since I inherited neither my mother’s thick curly black mane of hair nor her C cup. So there’s nothing to worry about there.
But Mr. G, I just don’t know. Not that Mr. G isn’t good-looking, I guess. I mean, he’s tall and has all his hair (score one for Mr. G, since my dad’s as bald as a parking meter). But what is with his nostrils? I totally can’t figure it out. They are just so . . . big.
I sincerely hope the kid gets my mom’s nostrils and Mr. G’s ability to divide fractions in his head.
The sad thing is, Mr. Gianini doesn’t have the slightest idea what is about to befall him. I would feel sorry for him if it weren’t for the fact that it is all his fault. I know it takes two to tango, but please, my mother is a painter. He is an Algebra teacher.
You tell me who is supposed to be the responsible one.
Great. Just great.
As if things aren’t bad enough, now our English teacher says we have to complete a
journal
this semester. I am not kidding. A
journal
. Like I don’t already keep one.
And get this: At the end of every week, we’re supposed to
turn our journals in
. For Mrs. Spears to
read
. Because she wants to get to know us. We are supposed to begin by introducing ourselves, and listing our pertinent stats. Later, we are supposed to move on to recording our innermost thoughts and emotions.
She has got to be joking. Like I am going to allow Mrs. Spears to be privy to my innermost thoughts and emotions. I won’t even tell my innermost thoughts and emotions to my
mother
. Would I tell them to my
English teacher
?
And I can’t possibly turn
this
journal in. There’s all sorts of stuff in here I don’t want anyone to know. Like how my mother is pregnant by my Algebra teacher, for instance.