Crackhead in LoveChapter One: If It Were Up to Me
A/N:Hey! This is Christina (better known as Daylight Dancer or hopeless angel on the Rooney boards). I recently started re-reading the Princess Diaries books and remembered why I liked them so much (part of the reason is because whenever I think of Michael, I think of Robert Carmine…who is the leader singer of the LA-based band, Rooney, if you didn't know). Well, anyway, I'm a huge fan of the Mia/Michael romance and here I am, ready to share Michael's point of view throughout the popular PD book, Princess In Love (But, obviously, to fit his point of view, this story was titled, Crackhead In Love). Um, before I continue rambling any longer, here is…my story. Enjoy!
Disclaimer:This will be the first and last disclaimer that you will find in this little story of mine. Meg Cabot owns EVERYTHING (well, I don't mean everything but hopefully, you know what I mean) so most characters (besides the ones that you've never read about in the PD books) belong to her as well. DON'T SUE!
Saturday, December 6
I'm in love with my little sister's best friend. The bad things about it? For one, she's a freshman and I'm a senior, so considerable age difference there. Oh, and if I didn't mention already: she's my little sister's best friend. She probably only thinks of me as Lilly's older brother, Michael.
Oh yeah, one more thing:
SHE HAS A BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!
OK, excessive punctuation use. But seriously though: What would Mia see in a guy like me? I am, though I don't exactly like to admit it, the epitome of a computer nerd (plus, what would the Princess of Genovia see in an extremely average guy like myself?). Though I don't believe in organized sports (I used to be on a Pee Wee hockey team…traumatizing) or organized religion, I believe in organization and have gotten straight-As through my entire sixteen years of living on this planet I like to call Earth.
I've been trying to tell myself that I simply can't be in love with Mia…I just can't. Who cares about the nice way she gets all red when she's nervous or embarrassed? Who cares about how cute she looks when she's lying and her nostrils flare out? Who cares about how her lips look extra nice when she laughs?
Oh yeah…I do.
There have been a few times when I thought she might even like me back. Or maybe I was just really hopeful. I even told her about how I taught myself to play the guitar. I sang her my song, "Tall Drink of Water" which was obviously about her. Well, I guess it wasn't too clear to her, seeing as how she didn't seem to take the hint.
I remember back in October when Lana Weinberger asked us both (Mia and me, that is) if we were going out. I would have very much liked to say, "Yes!" and give her (Mia) a kiss but I was fully aware how freakishly red I was. Plus, I can't really imagine having the courage to ask Mia out on a date. One of the only times I've managed to ask Mia out (even if it was with the Computer Club and my sister and her boyfriend) was to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show on Halloween. But look at how that turned out: horrible for me but great for Kenny Showalter.
So, this is how I was spending a perfectly good afternoon: working on the Computer Club's project for the Winter Carnival. With Judith Gershner. Who clones fruit flies. So, anyway, Judith and I were discussing the project (she's the president of the Computer Club by the way…which I am treasurer of) when we overheard (not eavesdropped on…Lilly was talking so loud) Lilly (my sister, in other words) on the phone with her boyfriend, Boris Pelkowski.
Pathetic. Even my younger sister can get a boyfriend before I can…not that I want a boyfriend or anything. Boris tucks in his sweater, wears a retainer laced with food all the time, sticks his tongue down my sister's throat (OK, not a pleasant mental picture) and is so annoying playing his violin during G & T (Gifted and Talented) that we have to shut him inside the closet.
I'M NOT GAY!! Despite what you may be thinking right now (but, then again, you are a journal). But honestly, how pathetic am I? I spend my afternoons writing songs about Mia or hanging out with my "Computer Club buddies." Lilly's right (for once):
I need to get a life.
Well, she was talking about going to the Rockefeller Center later on when Judith started gushing about how much she absolutely loved ice-skating. So, taking the extremely obvious hint, Lilly stiffly asked us both if we wanted to come. Judith gave me the most pleading look so I said that we might show up later. Lilly shrugged and left Judith and me. Alone. In the kitchen.
Not to say that I'm an, um, "ladies' man" or anything, but I had a strong feeling that Judith liked me…as more than a friend (and now I'm sounding like a thirteen year old girl). She kept touching my arm and bumping her knee into mine while winking or fluttering her eyelashes. Which scared me. A lot. But, I had to work on this project with her, whether I liked it or not.
So, I was thinking about ice-skating when something popped up into my mind: Lilly had mentioned that a group of friends were going which almost definitely included Mia. That certainly brightened me up. But then I remembered someone else who was almost definitely going to be there too: Kenny.
I thought about Mia the entire time I was working on the program with Judith (who continued to flirt dramatically). I thought about how desperate I was to talk to her that I often volunteered to tutor her in algebra. I felt my heart pounding every time our knees bumped together or I lightly touched her hand when reaching for her pencil to correct something…But I can't help but feel that maybe I'm a little too desperate.
"So, Michael," said Judith, a flirtatious smile on her face. "Are you going to that Winter Dance?" I pondered over this for a moment. If I were to go, who would I go with? I had gone to my first dance earlier that year. I had spent my time at the Cultural Diversity Dance…slow-dancing with Mia. It had felt so good to be pressed up against her. She had smelled like baby powder and fresh shampoo, like she always did. I had been that close to her before but I had never danced with her. We had only danced a couple of times, seeing as I would rather lick Fat Louie than do any fast dancing. But, we had never run out of things to talk about while sitting.
"The Nondenominational Winter Dance?" I said in a nonchalant voice…Well, I was trying to sound nonchalant, at least. Why would Michael Moscovitz (namely, me) be excited over a school dance? I had almost forced myself to go to the Cultural Diversity Dance. It had been Mia's first dance at Albert Einstein and I had wanted to "share" the moment with her…even if had been with Josh Richter…and even though I had never been to any of my own school dances.
Judith nodded her head anxiously, a slightly dazed smile on her face. I opened my mouth to speak and closed it, unable to think of anything to say. Trying one more time, I said, "You know, I'm going to have to think about it. I mean, what's so great about school dances anyway?" Dancing with Mia…I thought. Judith looked disappointed.
"So, what about you, Judith?" I said, tapping my pencil on the table. OK, that was something I never did, mainly because it annoys me. Almost as much as people cracking their knuckles or the conformity of the teenagers of the US.
"Oh well, I guess I might go," Judith said, writing down something. I sure as hell hoped she wasn't writing something like "MM + JG=4Ever."
I pondered over going ice-skating a little more. I usually steered clear of tourist traps, especially around Christmas time. Anything north of Bleecker Street…I run as far away as I can. But I figured that I'd be able to see Mia again (even if Kenny and Judith would be there).
I certainly didn't want to upset Judith or hurt her feelings (but, seriously, why would I go to the dance?). So, feeling slightly more sympathetic, I picked up the nearly nonexistent conversation and brought it to a halt.
"Hey Judith; it was great working with you on this project and all but how about we meet at the Rockefeller Center around seven?" Judith looked overly cheerful.
"All right, Michael…I'll meet you at the entrance," Judith said perkily and with that, she left the apartment.
I saved the program we were working on and began working on my online webzine, Crackhead. I was typing the beginning sentences of an article about unnecessary tourist traps when the phone rang. Making a quick jump for the phone, I managed to answer it before Lilly…in fact, I wasn't even sure if she was still in the apartment.
It was Mia!!
Mia:Oh, um, hi Michael. Can I talk to Lilly?
Me: (heart pounding faster) Um…wait a second, Thermopolis. (covering the phone) LILLY!? Are you here!?
Lilly: I got it, Michael. You don't need to shout all the time. I can hear you.
Lilly: MICHAEL!! GET OFF THE PHONE!!
That was all I heard before I hung up (though I was really curious as to what Mia needed to talk to Lilly about). I resisted the powerful urge to pick up the phone again and listen to Mia's voice. Running a hand through my dark hair, I closed my laptop and walked to my room. The door to my room was heavily-laden with stickers that said things like, "STAY AWAY!" or "Enter at your own risk…"
I set my laptop down on my desk and walked to my closet. Beneath a pile of clothes, I took my polished black guitar out and sat down on my bed, strumming a few chords (Thank God for the soundproof walls I got two Hanukkahs ago). I started singing my latest song, "Alter Ego." It was about this guy (um, me) who covers up his true feelings for the girl he, well, loves. He goes around pretending that he only sees this girl as a friend, never figuring out if she loves him back.
God, I'm pathetic.