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Itwouldbeeasytobea

princessifIweredressedin

clothofgold,butitisagreat

dealmoreofatriumphtobe

oneallthetimewhennoone

knowsit.

FrancesHodgson

Burnett,ALittlePrincess

Wednesday,May6

9:45A.M.BiologyClass

Middle school has not been

workingout theway Ihoped

itwould.

Of course, my

expectations were somewhat

high. Id heard such great

things. Everyone always

goes, In middle school you

gettodothisandInmiddle

schoolyougettodothat.

No one ever toldme, In

middle school Annabelle

Jenkinsisgoingtothreatento

beat you up by the flagpole

forabsolutelynoreason.

But thats exactly what

happened just now when

AnnabelleJenkinsshovedme

in the hallway after second

period.

My first thoughtwas that

it all had to be a mistake.

What have I ever done to

AnnabelleJenkins?

ThatswhyIsaid,Thats

okay! to Annabelle as I

squatted down and gathered

up the pages that had spilled

frommyorganizer.Ichecked

and saw that my pink

schedulewasstilltapedtothe

insidecover.Phew!

Iknowitsweird that its

May and I still worry about

losingmyclassschedule,but

I cant help it. You get a

demeritifyouloseyourclass

schedule.Ivegonethewhole

year without getting a

demerit.

Plus I like knowing my

schedule is there inside my

organizer just in case I

suddenly get amnesia or

something.

Dont worry, I assured

Annabelle as I stood up. I

stillhavemyschedule.

Thats when Annabelle

did something really weird.

And I mean, really weird,

especially for the most

popular, prettiest girl in the

sixth grade at Cranbrook

MiddleSchool.

Sheshovedmeagain!

Shedid ithard, too.Hard

enough so that I lost my

balance and fell flat on my

buttinfrontofeveryone.

It didnt hurt (except for

mypride).

But it was still totally

shocking,consideringthat,up

untilthatmoment,Idalways

thought that Annabelle and I

were friends. Not good

friends we dont sit

togetheratlunchoranything.

Annabelle is very selective

aboutwhosheinvitestositat

hertable.

But we certainly arent

enemies.Wevebeen toeach

othershouses,sincemystep-

uncleworkswithAnnabelles

dad. Whenever I go to

Annabelles, she shows me

all the awards shes won for

gymnastics, and when she

comes to my house, I show

her my wildlife drawings.

Shes never been very

impressed by them, but I

always thought things were

coolbetweenus.

Iguessnot.

Im not worried about

you losing your schedule,

Annabelle sneered. You

think youre so great, dont

you,PrincessOlivia?

Whoa, I said,

straightening up. Annabelle,

areyouokay?

ThereasonIasked this is

because there was no reason

that I could think of for

AnnabelleJenkinsto:

1. Knock my organizerfrommyarms.

2.Shoveme.

3.Askme if I think Imsogreat.

4.Callmeaprincess.

I thought maybe shed

just found out her dog had

gottenrunoverorsomething,

and shewas taking it out on

me. If she even had a dog,

which Iwasnt sure. I hadnt

seen one the last time Id

beenatherhouse.Ilikedogs,

so I probably would have

noticed.

But I guess I was wrong

about us getting along, since

the next thing that happened

was that all of Annabelles

equally pretty, popular

friendswhod gathered

around and were watching

Annabelle humiliate me

laughed even harder as

Annabelle imitated what Id

asked her, using a high-

pitched, whiny voice that I

personallydontthinksounds

anythinglikeme.

Whoa, Annabelle, are

you okay? Annabelle

pointedatme,butglancedat

allherfriends.Oliviaissuch

a loser, she thinks I actually

like her. She thinks were

friends.

The look on Annabelles

face made it very clear that

wewerenotnow,norhadwe

ever been, friends. Wed

probably never even gotten

along.

Then Annabelle leaned

her face very close to mine

and said, Listen here,

Princess Olivia Grace

ClarisseMignonetteHarrison

if thats even your real

name,whichIdoubt.Imsick

of you thinking youre so

much better than me. Meet

meat theflagpoleassoonas

school lets out today. Im

going to give you the beat-

down you deserve. And if

you tell a teacher, Ill make

suretosayyoustartedit,and

youll be the one to get a

demerit.

Then she gave me one

more shovenot as hard as

the last oneand

disappeared,with her friends

laughing behind her, into the

throng of scarily tall seventh

and eighth graders,who take

upsomuchmorespaceinthe

hallways than us lowly sixth

graders.

Fortunately by that time

myfriendNishihadcomeup

alongsideme.

What was that about?

Nishiasked.

Annabelle says shes

going to give me the beat-

downIdeserveafterschool,

I said. I guess I was still in

shock, or something. It felt

likeIwaswatchingmyselfin

a movie. She called me a

princess.

Whywould shecallyou

a princess? Nishi wanted to

know. And why would she

want to give you a beat-

down?I thoughtyou twogot

along.

SodidI,Isaid.Iguess

Iwaswrong.

Thats weird. Does she

think youre a snob, or

something?

Why would she think

Im a snob? I looked down

at my clothes, which are the

same as Nishis, since we

have towearuniforms toour

school,whichincludeaskirt.

Imnotwildabout theskirts,

which have pleats in them.

Pleats are generally not

flattering, according to my

step-cousin Saras fashion

magazines. Do I look like a

snob?

I dont think so, Nishi

said as people streamed

around us, trying to get to

theirnextclassbeforethebell

rang. Not any snobbier than

usual.

I gave Nishi a sarcastic

look.Gee.Thanks.

Well, sometimes people

who like sports think people

who like to draw wildlife

illustrationsare

But Ive never been

snobby about my drawings!

Itsjustahobby.Itsnotlike

Ive won any medals for

them.

Hmm. Weird. Maybe

youshouldtellateacher.

Annabelle said if I did,

shed say I started it and

make sure I got a demerit.

Ive gone the whole year

withoutgettingademerit.

Whywould they believe

Annabelle and not you?

Nishiasked.

Probably because

Annabelles dads a lawyer,

I reminded her glumly.

Remember? Shes always

saying her dad will sue the

school district if things dont

goherway.

Oh, right, Nishi said,

shaking her head. I forgot.

Well, Im sure its just a

misunderstanding. Well

figureitoutatlunch.Seeyou

then.

See you, I said, not

feelingquiteashopeful.

Then we both dived into

the hallway throng, sincewe

didnt want to be late. At

CranbrookMiddle School, if

yourelatetoclass,youlosea

merit point. If you lose

enough merit points, they

wont let you pass on to

seventhgrade.

Now Im sittinghere still

trying to figure out what I

could have done to make

Annabelle hate me so much,

much lesswant to giveme a

beat-down.

But Im coming up with

nothing.

Nothing except the fear

thatafterschool,Imgoingto

die.

Wednesday,May6

10:50A.M.FrenchClass

The thing is, Im so

completely boring and

average. It doesnt seem like

theres any reason for

Annabelletohateme.

Me: Olivia GraceClarisse Mignonette

Harrison (my real name,

nomatterwhatAnnabelle

thinks)

Height: Average (formyage,twelve)

Weight: Average(completely within

normal body mass index

formyheight)

Hair: Average color(brown)andlength(tothe

shoulders, though usually

Iwearitinbraidsbecause

itseasiertomanagesince

it has a tendency to frizz,

especiallyonhumiddays,

which, here in New

Jersey,happenalot)

Skin: Average (well,brown, the result of an

African American mom

andaCaucasiandad)

Eyes: Averagenotsapphire blue, like my

step-cousin Saras, or

deep brown, like Nishis.

My eyes are hazel. Just

plain,average,in-between

hazel. They dont even

change color in the light,

like girls eyes do in

books, flashing emerald

green when Im angry or

anything.They stayhazel

allthetime.

So.

Boring.

Thereareonlytwothings

aboutme that arent average,

but I dont think theyre the

reasonswhyAnnabellewants

tobeatmeup.

The first is my name:

Olivia Grace Clarisse

Mignonette Harrison (which

for some reason Annabelle

thinksisfake,butIswearits

not).

I dont know why my

mom chose to give me so

many middle names,

especially such bizarre ones.

Mignonetteisasauceyoucan

order in restaurants toputon

oysters.

Idontevenlikeoysters.

And there is a famous

princess whomy step-cousin

Sara likes to follow on the

gossip blogs named Princess

Amelia Mia Mignonette

Grimaldi Thermopolis

Renaldo, whose grandmother

isnamedClarisse,soitslike

I have two royal middle

names (Clarisse and

Mignonette), which I will

admit is also bit weird.

Sometimes I wonder if my

mom was obsessed with

princessesorsomething.

But I cant ask her

becauseshediedwhen Iwas

a baby. I never got a chance

to know her, which is too

bad, since she sounds like

someone Iwould have liked.

She was a charter jet pilot.

Thats a person who flies

private planes for other

people.

She didnt die flying,

though.Shediedonvacation

in Mexico after crashing her

JetSki.

Ihaveneverbeenonajet

or a personal watercraft.My

aunt says theyre more

dangerous than flying a

privateplane.

That is the second non-

averagethingaboutme.Since

my mom is dead, I have to

live with my aunt and her

husbandandhistwokids,my

step-cousins Justin and Sara.

Iveneverevenmetmybirth

dad, although he sends me

lettersandstuff.Iwriteback,

to a post office box in New

York City, because Dad has

to travel all the time for his

job (for which he gets paid

very well. I know, because

Aunt Catherine is always

super excited when his

support check for me comes

everymonth,eventhoughshe

andRick,herhusband,havea

very successful home design

andconstructionbusiness).

This is why Ive never

met him (my dad, I mean).

Anassistantforwardshimmy

letters from the post office

box. He lives wherever his

suitcasehappenstobe,which

is usually somewhere like

CostaRica orAbuDhabi (at

least according to his

postcards).

This is an unstable

atmosphereinwhichtobring

up a child, according tomy

auntCatherine.

My aunt Catherine and

my step-uncle, Rick, provide

a stable enough atmosphere

inwhichtobringupachild,I

guess,butsometimesIwishI

could live with my dad. I

know wed have the best

times on his archaeological

digs,eventhoughtherearent

anyschoolsorcleandrinking

water there, only mosquitoes

and,accordingtoonemovieI

saw,Nazis.

Okay, Dads never

specifically said hes an

archaeologist, and Aunt

Catherinedoesntlikeitwhen

Iaskquestionsabouthim,but

Imprettysure thatshowhe

andmymommet.Shehadto

havebeenthepilotononeof

hisexpeditions.

Thats probably why my

dad can only communicate

withmeby letter.Seeingme

in person would be too

painful a reminderof all that

helost(notthatImbeautiful

like my mom was, because

Im so average looking, but

myauntCatherinesaysIhave

my mothers bone structure

and could grow up to be

attractivesomeday).

Itsallgood,though.Dad

explained that when I get

lonely or frustrated, I should

pour out my feelings in my

diary (which he sent me

although I never seem to

have itwithmewhen I need

it, so I justwrite inwhatever

is handy, such asmy French

notebook,likenow).

Dad says he knows

someonewhokeptadiaryfor

a long time, and it always

helped her. I assume hes

referring to my mother, and

he just cant bear to say her

name (which is Elizabeth)

because her beauty haunts

him.

Still, even though I never

mention this in my letters to

my dad, the thing I getmost

frustrated about is that I am

basicallyhalfanorphan.

Not that anyone ever

treatsmethisway,ofcourse.

No one ever forces me to

sleepinacupboardunderthe

stairs like Harry Potter (we

dont even have a cupboard

under the stairs)or sweepup

cinders like Cinderella (our

fireplaces are all gas and

Uncle Rick wired them so

youcanswitch themonwith

aremotecontrol,notthatIm

allowedto).

I havemyown roomand

everything. Aunt Catherine

and her husband treat me

almost just like Im one of

UncleRickskids, so I dont

haveanyrighttocomplain.

Except that I do get sad

sometimes that Im not

allowed to have a dog or cat

(because Uncle Rick is

allergic and Aunt Catherine

doesnt want pet hair getting

on her designer furniture or

carpets).

It also kind of bums me

out that Aunt Catherine and

Uncle Ricks company,

OToole Designs, has been

hired to build a fancy new

mallinacountrycalledQalif,

so were moving there this

summer.Even though Iwant

to be adventurous, like my

dad, I really dont want to

move, because Ill miss

Nishi.

Also,itsbadenoughthat

I have to wear a skirt every

day as part of my school

uniform.AuntCatherinesays

that in Qalif, girls have to

wear skirts all the time, and

women have to cover their

heads.Itsthelocalcustom.

I think I would prefer

fightingNazis.

It also seems a little bit

unfair to me that Aunt

CatherineandUncleRicksay

I cant have my own

computerlikeSaraandJustin

(because there is not enough

Wi-Fi in the house to stretch

tomy room),oracellphone

(Aunt Catherine says I can

have one when Im in high

school though, if I get good

enoughgrades).

I guess I sort of do feel

like Im missing out a little,

not texting or going online

withmyfriends.Saragetsto,

and shes only four months

olderthanIam!

Idefinitelydontmindnot

having a TV in my room,

though,likeJustinandSara.I

want to be a wildlife

illustratorwhenIgrowup,so

I dont have time to veg out

in front of the TV, playing

video games like Justin or

watching reality shows like

Sara. I have to practice my

drawing. Wildlife illustrators

aretheoneswhodrawallthe

animals you see in books or

on the Web or next to the

exhibits when you go to the

zoo.

People dont realize this,

but baby kangaroos (called

joeys) are born only two

centimeters long, completely

blindandhairless.Theyhave

to crawl into their mothers

pouch, where they will stay

sixtoeightmonthsuntilthey

are ready to come out and

hoparound.

Someonehastodrawthis

because their kangaroo mom

isnt going to let anyone

inside the pouch to

photographit!

Thats what wildlife

illustratorsdo.

Obviously Im not a

professional artist yet, but I

tookafreeart testI foundin

thebackofamagazinewhen

Iwasinthedentistsoffice

the kind where they ask you

toDrawTippytheTurtleas

bestyoucanandsentitin.I

have to admit, I never

expectedtohearback.

So I was more shocked

than

anyone

when the

artschool

calledour

houseone

dayoutof

the blue

and said

theyd received my drawing

of Tippy the Turtle and

thought I had real talent.

They wanted to offer me a

scholarship!

Ofcoursetheyhungupas

soon as Aunt Catherine told

themIwastwelve.

But still! From that day

on, IknewIwasgoing tobe

anartist.Imean,ifIcangeta

scholarship at age twelve, I

can definitely get one when

Imolder.

Ms. Dakota, my art

teacheratschool,agrees.She

says I just have to keep

practicing, especially

perspective (which is the art

of drawing objects so that

they appear

multidimensional). Ms.

Dakota showed me how to

createavanishingpointinthe

centerofthepage,thenmake

sure all the lines in my

drawingmet there. Its super

hard.

So hard that I have to

admit I spend a lot of time

drawing kangaroos and

cheetahs and our neighbor

Mrs.Tuckerscats insteadof

practicingmyperspective.

Its amazing how your

whole life can change inone

day. Like the day I won the

art scholarship (even if I

couldnt accept it). That was

a really good day, a day I

went from being average to

not-so-average, in a good

way, because someone

thoughtIwasgoodatart.

Notliketoday,whichisa

horribleday.

I guess I should have

known thisdaywasgoing to

be horrible the minute Mr.

Courtney handed out those

WhoAmI?genetic family

historyworksheetsinBio.

What am I supposed to

putunderFathersEyeColor

or Fathers Mothers Eye

Color?ObviouslyIcanwrite

toDadtofindout,butbythe

time I get the answers, the

worksheet will be overdue,

and its worth 25 percent of

our grade! (Although Mr.

Courtney says its okay to

leavesome thingsblank.The

twins,NettaandQuetta,dont

know the biological

information for their dad,

either.)

But I really hate not

knowingthings.

Especially things

like why AnnabelleJenkinswouldwant tobeatmeup.

Itmakesnosense.

Nosenseatall.

Wednesday,May6

2:52P.M.SocialStudies

Class

NoneofthegirlsIsitwithat

lunch can figure out why

Annabelle wants to beat me

up, either. Well, except

maybe my step-cousin, Sara.

But I dont agree its

because your nail polish

doesnt match the color of

yourshoes.

No one would beat

someone up over that, Sara,

Isaid.

Annabelle might. Sara

calmly sipped her diet soda.

Shes very fashion

conscious.

No one replied to this

mainly, I think, because we

were all remembering how

Sara used to eat lunch with

Annabelle,until thedaySara

made themistake ofwearing

nail polish that didnt match

her shoes, and Annabelle,

mortally offended, banished

her forever from the popular

table.

Now Sara eats with us,

the fun-but-not-always-

fashionably-correctcrowd.

Nishi said, Well, I still

think you should tell a

teacher, Olivia. Its not as if

youveevergotten in trouble

before. A teacher is more

likelytobelieveyouoverher

anyway.

But what about

Annabelles dad? Beth

Chandlerasked.

What about him?Nishi

asked.

IveseenhisadsonTV,

one of the twinseither

Netta or Quetta, I cant tell

themapart,althoughIpretend

I cansaid. Hes pretty

famous.

For personal injury

cases, Nishi said. Like, if

youvebeeninacarcrashor

something. Not for suing

schools.

Iwouldntgoupagainst

Annabelle, the other twin

said.Sherulesthisschool.

Dont be dumb, Nishi

said. No one can rule a

school, especially a sixth

grader.

Annabelle Jenkins can,

Sara said. Obviously, Sara

wouldknow.Shegotinvited

to a seventh graders party

lastweekend.

I wanted to say, Not

helping! sarcastically to

Sara,butshehasnosenseof

humor when it comes to

Annabelle.

Beth Chandler said I

should fake a stomachache

andgotothenurse,thenhave

thenursecallAuntCatherine

tocometakemehomebefore

schoolends.

ButweallagreedIdonly

bepostponingtheinevitable.

Finally one of the twins

said, Why dont you tell

Justin? Then if Annabelle

comes near you, he could

defendyou.

This did not seem like a

verygoodsuggestion.Icould

see Justin sitting over with

theothereighth-gradeboysat

a table by the cafeteria

windows. Theywere playing

with personal gaming

devices, even though Dr.

Bushy,theprincipal,hassaid

if you are caught with one

duringschoolhours,itwillbe

confiscatedandyouwill lose

ameritpoint.

I guess eighth graders

dont care about losingmerit

points,though.

Justin looks kind of

busy,Isaid.

Whatever, Nishi said.

Hes family. He has to help

you.

Ive tried to explain to

Nishimany times that,while

its true that Sara and Justin

are my family, its only

becausetheirdadmarriedmy

aunt. They arent actually

bloodrelations.TheyreAunt

Catherines step-kids, which

makes them only my step-

cousins.

I know this shouldnt

mean were any less close

than if we were genetically

cousins. Families can be

madeupofalldifferentkinds

of people, many of whom

arent related at all.

Sometimes they arent even

the same species. Our

neighbor Mrs. Tucker

considers her cats her

children and likes to knit

themtinyhats.

But the truth is, I get the

feeling sometimes that the

fact that Im not related to

them by blood super matters

totheOTooles.

Dont do it, Sara

warnedme,overherPBandJ

ricecakesandwich(noonein

the OToole household has

celiac disease or a wheat

allergy like Beth Chandler,

who cannot eat gluten or her

throat closes up and she has

to go to the hospital. Aunt

Catherine just thinks gluten

makes people overweight, so

she doesnt keep any bread,

pasta, or cookies in the

house). Remember what

Justin said the first day of

school.

How could I forget it?

Thefirstdayofschool,Justin

gavemealecture.Thelecture

was about how even though

wed be attending the same

school, I wasnt supposed to

talk to him, not even to ask

fordirections.

AndIwasmostdefinitely

not tomention to anyone the

factthatathome,Justinlikes

tosingtoTaylorSwiftonour

household karaoke machine,

orthathehadcriedattheend

of both of the movies based

onPrincessMiaofGenovias

life.

Oh, Sara, dont be

mean, Beth Chandler said.

Justinwillhelpher. Justins

sonice!

Only someone who

doesnt have to live in the

samehousewithJustinwould

say this. Some of the girls

thinkmystep-cousinJustinis

cute,butthatisonlybecause:

1. They dont have tolive with him, and so

haveneversmelledhis

extremelygross,stinky

socks,likeIhave.

2. There are more girlsthanboysatCranbrook

Middle School, so

some of the girls are

ready to believe ANY

boy is cute, even

Justin.

Uh,Isaid.Itsokay.

No, it isnt! Beth

Chandler said. Do it,

Olivia.

Yes, Nishi said. You

shoulddoit,Olivia.

Dontdoit,Olivia,Sara

warned.

Its an emergency, one

ofthetwinsremindedher.

But Sara just shook her

head and sucked on her diet

soda.

Shell be sorry, she

said.

But Nishi and Beth

Chandlerandthetwinsurged

metogoaskJustin.

I should have listened to

Sara.

Butwhatotherchoicedid

I have? No one was coming

upwithabetteridea,leastof

allme.

SoIsummonedupallmy

courageandwentover to the

tablewhereJustinwassitting.

He was the one holding

the gaming device. All the

other boys were crowded

aroundhim, lookingdownat

the little screen. They were

sayingthingslike,Go!Go!

and Nuke him now. It

didnt actually seem like the

bestmomenttointerrupt,but,

likeNettaorQuettahadsaid,

itwasanemergency,afterall.

Um,Justin,Isaid.

All the eighth-grade boys

looked at me. All except

Justin. He kept playing his

game.

Go away, Olivia, he

said.

Imreallysorrytobother

you,Isaid.Iwasawarethat

Justins friends had looked

away, dismissing me as not

worthy of their attention.

Which was all right. There

was only one persons

attention I wanted anyway.

But,um,Iwaswonderingif

I could talk to you in

private?

I already told you,

Justin said, still not looking

up from the game. Go

away.

Iknow,Isaid.Butthis

is an emergency. You see,

theres this girl, Annabelle

Jenkins?Youknowherdadis

your dads business partner,

right?

Lawyer,Justinsaid,not

lookingatme.

Um, sorry, right. His

lawyer. So, she says shes

goingtogivemeabeat-down

afterschool,butIdontknow

why. So Iwaswondering, if

shetriesto,willyou,uh,help

me?

Justinmadesomekindof

mistake in the game, and all

the boys at his table went,

Oh! and a couple of them

calledhimbadnames.Thats

whenJustinswungaround to

glare at me and said, GO

AWAYorAnnabellewontbe

the only one giving you a

beat-down,OliviaGrace!

What Justin didnt know,

though, was that Dr. Bushy

(the principal) was right

there, doing his turn as

cafeteriamonitor.

He heard Justin yell at

me.Dr.Bushydoesnt like it

when people yell in his

cafeteria (or the hallways,

where Justin and his friends

frequently make fun of sixth

graderslikemeandNishifor

no reason), so he came right

over.

Whats this? Whats

this? Dr. Bushy wanted to

know. If you two cant get

alongnicelywith eachother,

maybeIshouldgiveyouboth

ademerit.Wouldthathelp?

I nearly died. A demerit!

After going the whole year

withoutone!

Justin turned bright red

and said, No, Dr. Bushy.

Thatwouldnothelp.

Now, thats more like

it, Dr. Bushy said. What

about you, Olivia? Would

youlikeademerit?

No, sir, I said,

swallowing. I couldnt see

Annabelle anywhere, but I

wassureshewaswatching.I

wouldntlikeone,either.

Good! Then go back to

yourseat!

ThenDr.Bushylefttogo

yell at some kids who were

stuffing leftover pizza in the

recycling bin instead of the

compostbin.

I fled to my seat,

practicallycrying.

Ohmygosh!Nishisaid.

DidDr.Bushyjustgiveyou

ademerit?

Idontknow,Imoaned,

buryingmyfaceinmyhands.

I dont think so. But

maybe!

Netta and Quetta patted

my back, murmuring

soothing things, and Beth

Chandler called Dr. Bushy a

name under her breath. Sara

just said, Told you so,

about Justin. She sounded

kindofsmugaboutit.

Even though I wouldnt

want one like Justin or Sara,

sometimes I wish I had a

sibling. Im pretty sure if I

did,heorshewouldhavemy

back in an emergency. Like

now, as three oclock grows

closer with every jab of the

minutehand.

Instead, Im just going to

have to face the fact thatmy

firstyearofmiddleschool?

Its probably going to be

mylast.

Wednesday,May6

3:35P.M.Limousine

Yes,youreadthatright.Iam

writingthisfromtheinsideof

alimousine.

Itjustgoestoshowthata

lot can happen in an hour.

You can go from having the

worst day of your life to the

best day (well, second best

after the day I got the

scholarshiptoartschool).

I have to get all of this

downorIfeellikeitmightall

turn out to have been a

dream.MaybeIllwakeupin

thehospitalandthenursewill

tellme Ihadaconcussion in

PE (except that they dont

have contact sports in PE in

my school anymore because

of litigation concerns) and

imagineditall.

Except thebuttery leather

seat underneath me feels

prettyreal.

And the scent of the

perfumeoftheroyalprincess

ofGenovia sitting besideme

smellsprettyreal.

Ithinkitsallreal.

Maybe Dad is right,

though, and writing it down

will help it to make more

sense. Like how keepingmy

class schedule taped to the

insideofmyorganizermakes

me feel better. Only this

isntaclassschedule,itsmy

life! And I cant tape it into

the front of an organizer

because there is noorganizer

forlife.

One thing is for sure:All

theblankspacesonmyWho

AmI?worksheetaregetting

filledin.

Okay,deepbreath:

So by the time the last

bell of the day had rung,

letting us know we were all

freetogo(someofustogeta

beat-down courtesy of

Annabelle Jenkins),myheart

was jiggering around inside

my chest like a baby joey

inside itsmomspouch, only

notatallcute.

Ifilledmybackpackwith

allthebooksImightneedfor

homework for the next few

nights (in case I ended up in

the hospital) and headed to

the courtyard where were

supposed to wait for our

buses.

I saw a few people I

recognizedalreadyinlinefor

the bus we take home

including Sara and Justin.

Justinwasdeeplyinvolvedin

another round of whatever it

washedbeenplayingonhis

game device. Sara was

pretendingnottonoticeme.

ButNishi,BethChandler,

and the twins were standing

nearby, looking nervously in

thedirectionoftheflagpole.

WhenIlookedtowardthe

flagpole,Isawwhy:

Annabelle was already

there! She was waiting for

me, just like she said shed

be.

I guess deep down, Id

kind of been hoping shed

forgotten the whole thing.

GirlslikeAnnabelle,whoare

super busy being fashion

forwardandwinningawards,

might actually have a lot to

do,andcouldpossibly forget

all the people theyd

promised to beat up after

school.

But apparently not

Annabelle, since she was

staring right at me. She

lookedmadenoughtobeatup

just about anyone, possibly

even an eighth grader. If

shed been amicrowaveHot

Pocket (which I only get to

eat when I go to Nishis

house, since they arent

gluten-free), I think steam

wouldhavebeenrisingoutof

her,thatshowmadshewas.

At me.Me, whod never

done or said anything to her

tomakeherthatway!

The minute she saw me,

she started storming toward

me. My jiggering joey heart

gave one last thump-thump,

then seemed to die in my

chest.

Annabelle, I said, in a

final attempt to save myself.

CantweTALKabout this?

I dont know what I did to

make you somad atme, but

Go on, Annabelle,

someone shouted from over

near where Justin was

standing.Gether!

Yeah, Annabelle! Get

her!

I looked over at Justin.

His face was beet red as he

bent over his gaming device,

pretending he didnt notice

whatwasgoingon.

But he knew. I knew he

knew. Because next to him,

some of his friends were

grinning right at me. They

knewwhatwasgoingonand

thought what was happening

tomewasfunny.

But it wasnt funny.

BecauseIcouldseeallitwas

doing was getting Annabelle

even more determined to

carryoutherthreat.

Really, Olivia? she

asked ina snottyvoicewhen

shegotuptome.Youreally

dont know what this is all

about?

Uh, no, I said, stalling

fortime.

There were teachers

standing all around (except

Ms.Dakota,wholeavesearly

on Wednesdays), and also

parents there topickup their

kids.

But they clearly didnt

know what was happening.

To them itmusthave looked

like Annabelle and I were

simply standing there by the

flagpolehavingalovelylittle

chatabout,oh, Idontknow,

nailpolishorwhatever.

Do grown-ups really not

know that girls fightreally

fightwith their fists? You

would think thereve been

enoughvideosontheInternet

aboutthisbynowthatpeople

wouldgetthemessage.

Maybe everyone thinks,

Not my kid! Not at our

school.

Obviously none of these

peoplehavemetAnnabelle.

Ireallydontknowwhat

this is about, Annabelle, I

said to her. Weve always

been friends. At least, I

thoughtso.

Well, you thought

wrong, Annabelle said,

loudly enough so that all her

smirking friends could hear

(but none of the teachers or

parents, of course). Because

Imnotfriendswithliars.

What?Thiswasthelast

thing I ever expected her to

say. I never lied to you,

Annabelle

Oh yeah? Well, how

aboutthelieIheardyousaid

at Netta and Quettas

sleepover last weekend, that

your father is some kind of

famous archaeologist like

IndianaJones?

I felt myself blushing.

Contrary to popular opinion,

black people can blush, and

evengetsunburned(andskin

cancer from the sun if we

dont put on sunscreen). Its

just that because our skin is

darker colored, it doesnt

showasmuch.

Okay,Isaid.Well,that

may have been a slight

exaggeration

She never said he was

exactly like Indiana Jones,

Annabelle, Nishi said,

comingtomydefense.

Because he isnt,

Annabelle scoffed. Her dad

isnothing like IndianaJones.

I know because I heard my

dad talking to her uncle, and

thetruthis,herdadisactually

a prince. The prince of

Genovia,tobeexact!

Iwasnttheonlyonewho

thoughtAnnabellehadstarted

spewing crazy gibberish. All

theotherkidsdid,too,atleast

judging from the way they

startedlaughing.

Yeah,right,Iheardone

of the boys say. A few of

them who were disappointed

the fight hadnt started yet

yelled, Kick her butt,

Annabelle!

Obviously, what

Annabelle was saying was

not true, and itwas certainly

noreason towant tobeatme

up.

ButIstillfeltobligatedto

defendmyself, andof course

keep my butt from getting

kicked.

Annabelle, I said.

Thatscrazy.

Are you calling my dad

crazy? she demanded,

reaching out to give my

shoulderaone-handedshove,

likeshehadearlierintheday,

inthehallway.

No, of course not, I

said, managing to keep my

balance this time. Im just

saying your dads been

misinformed. If my father

were the prince of Genovia,

someone would have told

me.

Iglancedoveratmystep-

cousins. Justin wore an

expressionthatclearlystated,

Her dad? A prince? Yeah,

right! while Sara merely

lookedconfused.

See? I said to

Annabelle.

Sherolledhereyes.

How could they tell

you? she demanded. Your

mother never wanted anyone

to know, not even you. She

was afraid youd get

kidnapped or something

stupidlikethat.Plusshesaid

she wanted you to be raised

like a normal kid. Like you

couldeverbenormal!

Annabelle let out another

mocking laugh, then pushed

meagain.

But this time I barely

noticed, because suddenly

some things were starting to

make sense: Like how Aunt

Catherine never wanted to

talkaboutmydad.

AndhowInevergottogo

visit him on weekends or

duringthesummer,likeother

kids.

And how the support

checks he sent for me were

pretty big (for an

archaeologist) but Aunt

Catherine and Uncle Rick

wouldntletmehavemyown

cellphoneorcomputer.

Thats because if they

had, and Id had unlimited

time on the Internet, I might

have looked up stuff about

mydad,anddiscovered.

Wait a minute, I burst

out. That cant be true.

Theresnowaymydadisthe

prince of Genovia. Because

thatwouldmakemea

Princess? Annabelle

sneered.

Everyoneinthecourtyard

gasped.

No, I cried, staggering

back.Noway.

Well, thats what you

are, Princess Olivia. Should

we all curtsy and bow down

to you now? Wheres your

tiara, Your Royal Highness?

Didyouforget it,backat the

palace?

No! I couldnt believe

thiswashappening.No!

Oh, whats the matter,

Your Highness? Annabelle

sneered. Princess gonna

cry?

No! Although the truth

was,Ididfeelalittlebit like

crying. Because I realized it

was true. It was all true. It

had to be. In aweirdway, it

kindofmadesense.

FortunatelyNishicameto

mydefenseoncemore.

Stop it, Annabelle, she

cried. Olivia isnt a

princess!

Uh, yes, she is,

Annabelle said. But it

doesnt matter, because Im

stillgoingtokickherbutt.

Thats when she hurled

herself toward me, and

everyone around usexcept

my friends, of course

suddenly started screaming,

FIGHT!FIGHT!FIGHT!

I knew then that I was

goingtodie.

Ive seen people fight in

movies and on TV. It looks

pretty easy when youre

watching a trained actor or

stuntpersondoit.

But when a real live

person who is not a trained

actor but the most popular

girl inyourschool(dontask

me why, because Annabelle

isactuallyverymean)whois

alsoa trainedgymnast jumps

you, thengetsholdofoneof

yourbraidsandstartspulling

onitveryhard, it isnoteasy

tofightback.

IthoughtIwasacomplete

goner until right at that very

moment a womans voice

rangout,clearasabell,from

acrossthecourtyard.

Olivia?thevoicecalled.

OliviaGraceHarrison!

Startled, I turned to look

as much as I could with

Annabelle hanging so tightly

on tomybraidandsawthe

mostamazingsightIhadever

seeninmylife:

Her Royal Highness,

PrincessMia Thermopolis of

Genovia.

Wednesday,May6

4:15P.M.Stillinthe

RoyalLimousine

Sorry,Igotinterruptedthere.

It turns out when youre a

princess,yougetall the soda

you want to drink from the

limomini-bar.

FORFREE!

Alsochipsandcookies.

I know thats a weird

thingtobewritingaboutata

time like thisand also that

theyre only giving these

things to me because I

mentioned that Aunt

Catherinenever letsmehave

sodawithsugarinit,orchips

andcookies.

Butitssonice!

I just hope they arent

doing it because they feel

sorry for me. That would be

the worst. I hate it when

people feel sorry for me

(because Im half an orphan,

etc).

Where was I? Oh, yes,

backinthecourtyard:

I dont have to explain

how I recognized her.

Everyone knows what

PrincessMialookslike.Shes

had movies made about her,

and books written based on

her diaries, and was just

recently on the cover of

People magazine, and she

was also in Us Weeklys

Stars:TheyreJustLikeUs

section, buying toilet paper

(even though its hard to

imagine a princess using the

bathroom).

It was also easy to

recognize her because she

was standing in front of this

huge black stretch limousine

with little flags on it, and

therewasthismannexttoher

who was almost as huge as

the limo (only not black,

though he was dressed in a

black suit and had on black

sunglasses, and he was

glaring very meanly right at

Annabelle).

It wasnt hard to tell that

the man was Princess Mias

bodyguard.

Olivia? Princess Mia

called, waving as if she

wasntsureIdseenher.

But Id seenher all right,

becausewho couldmiss her,

standing there in this cream-

colored coat with a long

floatyredscarfandmatching

redhigh-heelshoes?

Annabelle had seen her,

too. I could tell because

Annabelle froze with her

handrightthereonmybraid.

Every other kid in the

entire courtyard froze, too.

Most of the adults did, as

well,includingMs.Feinstein,

the parking lot attendant,

whod been blowing her

whistleat thebusesaminute

before. They all just stood

there, frozen, staring at

PrincessMiaofGenoviaand

herlongredscarf,floatingin

thespringbreeze.

Um, I said to

Annabelle, breaking the

sudden silence. I think that

ladyover therewith the limo

wantstotalktome.

I heard Annabelle

swallow, hard. It might have

beenmyimagination,butshe

looked a little scared,

especially at the sight of

Princess Mias frowning

bodyguard. Even my step-

cousin Justin and all his

friends were staring at the

bodyguard. No one was

yelling FIGHT FIGHT

FIGHT anymore. Instead,

therewasdead silence in the

courtyard. Even the bus

engineshadstopped.

Okay, Annabelle

whispered, and dropped my

braid.

When Princess Mia

reached us, I brushed offmy

uniform, which was a little

dusty from my nearly being

killed, and said, Hi, yes,

thatsme.ImOlivia.

Oh, Princess Mia said,

smiling atme. Up close, she

looked even more like she

does on TV. I know that

sounds strange, but thats

what it was like. Seeing

someone from TV, only

without the TV box around

her.Shelookedverybeautiful

andnice.

But that also could have

beenbecauseshewaslikean

angelwhohadcometorescue

me from being killed by

AnnabelleJenkins.

Hello. Im Mia

Thermopolis, she went on.

Your aunt Catherine said it

would be all right for me to

pick you up from school

today.

Ididntknowwhattosay

to that. Why would Aunt

Catherinesendtheprincessof

Genovia to pickme up from

school? That made no sense

at all, but itwas totallyokay

byme.

As if in answer to my

silent question, Princess Mia

said,Oh,heresanote from

your aunt, andhandedmea

sheetofpaper.

I could tell everyonewas

watchingmeasIunfoldedthe

note from Aunt Catherine.

Some of them werent only

watching me, they were

filming me with their cell

phone cameras. No one had

ever filmedmebefore inmy

life except for Sara, the time

shed snuck into my room

andstuckmyhand inabowl

ofwarmwaterwhileIsleptto

see if I would wet my pants

(to her disappointment, I did

not).

All the filming was

making me uncomfortable.

Imobviouslynotthekindof

girlpeoplefilm.Imanartist!

No one makes TV shows

calledAmericasTopDrawer

or Drawing with the Stars!

Drawing isnt the most

exciting thing to watch,

althoughofcourseitsniceto

look at what someones

drawn after theyre done

drawingit.

The

note my

aunt had

signed was

written on

royal Genovian stationery,

and had a gold crown

embossedat the top.Alotof

the writing was hard to

understand, but basically it

said that Princess Amelia

Mia Mignonette Grimaldi

Thermopolis Renaldo had

permissiontotransportmeto

any destination of my

choosing.

Any destination ofmychoosing?

Noonehadevertakenme

to a destination of my own

choosingbefore! If theyhad,

Id have chosen to go to

Cheesecake Factory EVERY

SINGLETIME.Weneverget

to go toCheesecakeFactory,

because the OTooles like

Olive Garden for its many

gluten-freeoptions.

Icarefullyfoldedthenote

andputitinmybackpacksoI

wouldnt lose it. It was

definitelysomethingIwanted

to keep forever, like all the

lettersfrommydad.

So, would you like to

comewithme?PrincessMia

asked.

Thank you, I said,

tryingtosoundasdignifiedas

possible, since I could tell

everyone was listening. Id

likethatverymuch.

Great, Princess Mia

said,smiling.Letsgo.

I know its not polite to

gloat,butitfeltprettygoodto

walk across the courtyard to

my WAITING LIMO while

Annabellehadtowaitforher

BUS to take her home,

especiallyafter shed tried to

beat me up for no reason

other than the fact that she

seemstothinkImaprincess.

(Which is apparently a

fact.)

It felt even better when

Annabelleranafterus,going,

Excuseme?Excuseme,but

is it true youre Olivias

sister? to PrincessMia in a

verysnottyvoice.

Sister?

Of everything thats

happened so far, this may

havebeenthebest:

Princess Mia looked at

Annabelle and was like,

Whoareyou?

This completely shocked

Annabelle, because

Annabelle thinks everyone

knowswhosheis,sinceshes

won so many gymnastics

medals,etc.

Butthetruthis,Impretty

sure outside of Cranbrook

Middle School (and possibly

even outside of the sixth

grade of Cranbrook Middle

School) no one knows who

AnnabelleJenkinsis.

Poor Annabelle. And I

thought I was having a bad

day!

Annabelle sputtered, I-I-

Im Annabelle Jenkins! My

fatherisBillJenkins,Olivias

step-uncles lawyer.Hes the

highest-rated personal injury

lawyer in all of Cranbrook,

NewJersey.Andhesaysthat

Well, Im sorry,

Annabelle, Princess Mia

said,inavoicelikesilk,but

thisisaprivatefamilymatter.

Im afraid I dont have time

tochattoday.Good-bye.

Private family matter!

Without exactly admitting it,

Princess Mia had just

confirmed everything

Annabelle had said back by

theflagpole.

Iam a princess!And she

ismysister!

If I couldhavedrawn the

look on Annabelles face at

that moment, it would have

resembled a smiley with

blankeyesanda surprisedO

foramouth,exactlylikethis:

00

O

Then Princess Mia made

one little gestureshe took

my handand suddenly

everyone went completely

bananas. They came rushing

toward us, yelling, Olivia,

Olivia,canIgetaselfiewith

you?

In the entire time Ive

gonetoschoolinCran-brook,

no one has ever asked for a

selfie withme, except Nishi,

who has selfies with me all

over her social media pages,

only of course I cant see

thembecauseAuntCatherine

wont letmehave any social

mediapages.

NowIknowwhy.

But

then

Princess Mias bodyguard

(who I have now learned is

named Lars) said, NO to

everyone in a pretty scary

voice. He even yelled at Dr.

Bushy, who wanted a selfie

with me and Princess Mia,

and was even pushier than

everyone else about it (and

since Dr. Bushy has such a

largestomach,hemanagedto

push his way through the

crowd more quickly than

everyone else, too, using his

belly as a kind of battering

ram).

He looked pretty shocked

when Lars yelled at him

probably because Dr.

Bushy is the one who does

most of the yelling (and

handing out of demerits)

around CMS. After Lars

yelledathim,Dr.Bushy just

stood there in the middle of

the parking lot, still holding

his cell phone, looking

confused.

And then thenext thing I

knew, my sister and I were

getting into the limo and the

doorwasslammingbehindus

and all the kids had started

banging on the windows

screaming, Olivia! Olivia,

wait! because they hadnt

gottenaphoto, andmy sister

looked a bit startled and

asked, Oh dear, whats

happening?

Oh, nothing, I told her.

Theyre just excited. Not

many celebrities visit

Cranbrook Middle School.

Actually,yourethefirst.

Thisdidntmakeherlook

veryrelieved,especiallyafter

the chauffeurthere is a

chauffeur!Hedrivesthelimo.

HisnameisFrancoishadto

blow the horn very loudly to

getallthekidstomoveoutof

thewaysowecoulddriveout

of the parking lot and onto

theroad.

The last thing I saw as I

looked out the window was

Nishi, standing on the

sidewalk a little away from

thecrowd,wavingtome.

Iwavedback,but I dont

know if she could see me,

because the windows of the

limo are tinted so that the

peopleinsidecanseeout,but

peopleoutsidecantseein.

Meanwhile Princess Mia

keptapologizing.

Im so sorry,Olivia, but

I had no idea I even had a

sister until a few days ago.

And you certainly shouldnt

have found out this way that

yourethatwere

I could tell that she was

really uncomfortablewhich

waskindoffunny:aprincess,

being uncomfortable around

me.

Thats the thing about

royalty, though:They have a

hard job to do.They have to

trytosetagoodexampleand

make everyone feel happy,

while also being brave and

beautifulandstuff.

I know all this because

Nishi loves princess movies,

so whenever I go to her

house, she makes me watch

themwithher (not that its a

hugesacrifice).

Nishi doesnt care that

Annabelle started saying, as

long ago as first grade, that

princess movies are for

babies. Nishi says you like

what you like, so who cares

whatotherpeoplethink?

Thatswhy I actually felt

a little bad for PrincessMia.

In movies, princesses are

alwaysgettingkidnappedand

then put into dungeons until

theyusetheirmagicalpowers

(orrayguns)toescape.

Butinreallife,princesses

donthavemagicalpowersor

ray guns. All they have are

their brains (and bodyguards

and limousines, of course),

which theyre supposed to

use tohelpmake theworlda

better place. None of its as

easyasit looks,especiallyto

people like Annabelle, who

think all princesses do is sit

aroundinniceclothes,which

isnttrueatall.

Its okay, I said.

Annabelle already told me.

Just not in a very nice way.

Shecanbeabitofasnob.

ThatswhatImsosorry

about, Princess Mia said,

looking upset. Because you

havent done anything

wrong!

I know. My momand

dadwere only trying to

protect me. And I can see

why,afterall thatout there.

I jerked my thumb in the

directionofCMS.

Princess Mia exchanged

glances with some other

womenwhowere also in the

limoI think they might be

ladies-in-waitingand said,

Yes. Im sorry about that,

too. I should have known

better,andstayedinthelimo.

Imsosorry

I shook my head. It was

stillfunnythataprincesswas

apologizing so much to me.

Its okay. So is it really

true?

That were sisters? Yes,

ofcourseitsreallytrue.

No, that youll take me

to any destination of my

choosing?

Princess Mia looked a

littlemorerelaxed,whichwas

what I wanted. She seemed

verytenseandworried.More

tense and worried than me!

And thats saying a lot,

consideringthedayIdhadso

far.

Yes, she said, with a

laugh.Thatsreallytrue,too.

Why? Is there somewhere

youreallywanttogo?

I couldnt believe she

didntknow.

Yes! I cried. To meet

mydad!

Princess Mia smiled. I

washopingyoudsaythat.

Wednesday,May6

4:45P.M.Limousine

IM GOING TOMEETMYDAD.IN NEW YORK

CITY.Im sorry to write it so

big, but Im very, very

excited.

We should be there in a

little over an hour.

Cranbrook, New Jersey, is

only sixty-four miles from

New York City, but Ive

never been there. Nishi has

been there lots of timeswith

her family, and Aunt

CatherineandUncleRickgo

therealot,tootoBroadway

shows and baseball games

and fancy restaurants and

stuff.

But not me. Ive always

endeduphavingtostayhome

with Mrs. Tucker, our

neighbor who owns the cats,

or with Nishi, because Aunt

Catherine says thecity is too

dirty and dangerous for

children,eventhoughImnot

exactly a child and they take

Sara all the time,which Ive

always thought was a little

weird since shes not that

mucholderthanIam.

But now I am starting to

realize that it probably had

something to do with my

beingaprincess.

Aunt Catherine never put

itthatway,though,ofcourse.

Shealwayssaid,Oh,Olivia,

the city is so dirty and

Youd just have been bored

attheshowwewentto.

I guess my mom was

pretty serious about keeping

this whole princess thing a

secret. She made my dad

promise not to tell anyone,

not even his ownmom (who

ismygrandma.Miasaysshe

likestobecalledGrandmre,

which is French for

grandmother).

I cant believe he didnt

tellme, Princess Mia keeps

saying. I wish Id known

sooner, because Ive always

wantedasister.

Me,too!

TheonethingIvealways

wanted,anditscometrue!

And it turns out Princess

Mia and I have a lot in

common:

She has a diary, too. She

saw me writing in this

notebook and asked if I was

doing homework and I said

no, thatmydadsaid towrite

downmyfeelingswhenIwas

gettingoverwhelmed.

Thats when Mia got a

funny look on her face and

said,Hmmm,IthinkIknow

wherehegotthatidea.

Where? I asked,

surprised.

My mom told me to do

the same thing when I was

aboutyourage.

Really?Iasked.

Yes, she said, and

smiled.Sowhatelsedoyou

like to do, besides write in

yourdiary?

Iliketodraw.Ishowed

her a couple of my wildlife

illustrations.

Wow, those are really

good! You must have

inheritedthattalentfromyour

mom,becauseIcantdrawat

all.

Oh, thats not true, I

assured her. My art teacher,

Ms.Dakota,saysanyonecan

learn todraw if theypractice

a little every day. The thing

shewantsmetopracticeright

now is perspective. She says

its easy with practice. But

even though Ive been

practicing and practicing, I

still cant seem to get it

right.

Princess Mia glanced

again atmydrawings. Your

perspectivelooksgoodtome.

Better than mine, thats for

sure.

Aw, I said, feeling

myselfblush.Notreally.

She smiled. The first

thing youll have to learn,

Olivia, if youregoing toget

this princess thing right, is

how to take a compliment.

When someone says

something nice to you, dont

put yourself down. Just say

thankyou.Tryit.

I blushed harder. Thank

you.

Youre welcome, she

said, laughing. See, that

wasnt so hard, was it? Its

likewhatyourartteachersaid

about perspective. The more

youpractice,theeasieritwill

get.

I frowned. I never

thoughtofitthatway.

IdonlysaidNot really

becauseIdidntwanttoseem

likeasnob.

ButIguesssayingthank

youwhensomeonepaysyou

a compliment doesnt sound

snobby.Itsthepolitethingto

do.

So then to change the

subject, I showed Princess

Mia my Who Am I?

worksheet (not that I like to

do homework, of course, but

its due tomorrow), and she

started to helpme fill it out,

saying shed be happy to

answer any questions I had

aboutourGenovianancestry.

Exceptthenshegotacall

on her cell phone that she

saidshewassorryshehadto

take.

IsaidIunderstood.Being

aprincessreallyishardwork.

The thing is, Ihavesome

questions I dont think

Princess Mia can answer,

suchas:

Ifmymomwassoserious

about me not knowing my

royal heritage, why did she

name me after so many

Genovianprincesses?

Is it for the same reason

Aunt Catherine said it was

my mothers dream that I

learn to speak French, and

why shemakesme take it in

school,eventhougheveryone

else takesSpanish?French is

the language they speak in

Genovia.

I cant help thinking its

because my mom meant to

tell me the truth someday,

and go with me to Genovia.

She justdiedbefore sheever

gotthechance.

Her making me learn

French is already doing me

some good, though. I dont

mean to be eavesdropping,

but Icanunderstandsomeof

what Princess Mia has been

saying on her cell phone (in

French).

I should probably

interrupt and mention that I

takeFrench.ButIdontwant

to be rude.Also, its kind of

interesting.

One of the ladies-in-

waiting (Tina) letmeborrow

her extra cell phone (when

youreroyalIguessyoureso

richyouhavetwo).

So you can play games

andwontbeboredduringthe

drive, she said kindly, but I

think its more so that they

cantalkamongstthemselves.

Instead of playing games

Im going to text Nishi (she

taughtmehowincaseIever

got my own cell, and

obviously I have her number

memorized, since I can only

ever call her from the wall

phoneinthekitchen).

Nishi is never going to

believeanyofthis!

NishiGirl

Olivia

Hi,Nish,its

me,Olivia!

Imusingthe

phoneofone

oftheroyal

ladies-in-

waiting.;-)

OMG Im so

glad ur OK!

Ive been so

worried! The

police came

afteruleft!

Thepolice?

Why?To

arrest

Annabelle?

HAHAHA.

Ha, no,

though they

shouldhave. I

couldnt

believe it

when she

jumpedu!

Thanksfor

havingmy

back.

Anytime. The

police came

because no

onewouldget

ontheirbuses!

Really???

Really! Dr.

Bushy was so

mad. I think

he called

them, but

Quetta says

Annabelledid.

Shes so

immature. So

isittrue????

Iswhattrue?

What

Annabelle

said:Thatura

princess!!!!!!

Oh.Yes.

Howcanube

so calm about

it????

Imnot,

believeme!

Imalready

getting

princess

lessons!

Where???

Thelimo!

Whats it

like?????

Itscool.Iget

allthechips

andsodaI

want!And

theceiling

lightsupall

pinkand

purpleand

greenwhen

youpressa

button.

Cool!

Iknow.But

mysistersaid

topleasestop

pressingit

becauseit

wasmaking

herwantto

throwup.

Whats ur

sisterlike???

Shessuper

nice.ButI

dontthink

shesusedto

12yearolds.

Sheaskedme

ifIwantto

gotothe

American

Girldoll

storefortea!

HA HA

HA!!!!!Didu

tell her u

dont have an

AmericanGirl

dollandthatu

r12not7?

No!These

peopleare

ROYAL.Im

tryingtobe

polite.

Iwouldtotally

go!!!

Iknowyou

would.

Yourethe

onewhohad

lunchat

Disney

Worldatthe

Beautyand

theBeast

castlelast

Christmas

andgotyour

picturetaken

withthe

Beast.

ITS MY

PROFILE

PHOTO!!!

Iknow.

ListenNishi,

mysisteris

onhercell

phoneandI

cant

understand

everything

shessaying

becauseits

inFrench,

butIthinkI

heardhersay

theword

stole.

You better

stop eating so

manychips.

Notabout

me!Ithinkit

wasabout

Aunt

Catherine

andUncle

Rick!

I TOLD u it

was strange

that they own

2 Ferraris.

Most people

dont even

own1.

Theyarent

carthieves!

How do u

know? They

have a lot of

tools.

Thetoolsare

becausethey

ownahome

designand

construction

company!

I knew there

was

something

weird about u

moving to a

place where

everyone has

to cover their

faces!Theyre

ontherun!

I love Nishi, but she can

be so dramatic sometimes. I

thinkitsfromlivingwithher

grandmother, who watches a

lot of Bollywood movies,

which are great but not very

realistic. I have never seen a

whole roomofpeoplegetup

anddo thesamedanceat the

sametime.

NishiGirl

Olivia

Themenin

Qalifdont

havetocover

theirfaces,

Nishi,only

thewomen.

JustforgetI

mentionedit.

OK, but dont

say I didnt

warn u.

Where are u

going now?

Tohaveteaat

the American

Dollcaf?

Haha.No.

Tomeetmy

dad!IN

NEWYORK

CITY!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I AM SO

HAPPY FOR

YOU!!!!

Iknow!IM

FINALLY

GOINGTO

MEETMY

DAD!!!!

OMG, this is

so cool. It is

the coolest

thing ever.

Can I tell

everyone?

Ithink

everyone

already

knowsabout

theprincess

thing.

No, the part

about ur dad.

And they

dont know

the princess

part for real.

U just

confirmedit!

Well,Ithink

PrincessMia

confirmedit

whenshe

showedupat

schoolina

limo,butOK,

Iguessyou

cantellthem.

YAY!!!!! I

cant wait to

see

Annabelles

facetomorrow

when she

hears!

Why?

Because now

ur officially a

princess! And

shesgoing to

be sick with

jealousy!

Nishi,

Annabelle

hates

princesses,

remember?

ShesNOT

jealousofme.

Duh! She

hates

princesses

because she

knows shell

never be one,

not even on

the inside.

People who r

that snobby

and mean r

always super

insecure.

Thats why

she wanted to

beatuup.

Uh,Im

prettysure

thatsnot

why.

Trust me,

thats why.

Imaprincess

expert.Iknow

ahaterwhenI

seeone.

I know Nishi likes to

think shes a princess expert,

but shes wrong. Annabelle

Jenkins,themostpopulargirl

in the sixth grade at

Cranbrook Middle School,

willneverbejealousofme

Uh-oh.

Werehere.

Wednesday,May6

6:30P.M.ThePlaza

Hotel

When my dad isnt in

Genovia,beingtheprince,he

stays at the Plaza Hotel on

Fifth Avenue, which Aunt

Catherine once told me has

the most expensive

apartments in all of New

York,possiblytheworld.

I believe it! Everything

here is superelegant. In fact,

I feel pretty underdressed in

my school uniform,

especiallymyhideouspleated

skirt,whichisprobablygoing

tobefamousnowbecauseso

many people took photos of

meinitwhenIgotoutofthe

limo.

Thats because someone

posted pictures online of me

withPrincessMia in frontof

Cranbrook Middle School,

andtaggedherasmysister!

Hmmm, I wonder who

that someone could have

been no, Im being

sarcastic. Im pretty sure it

was Annabelle, seeing how

muchshehatesme.

Anyway, that tipped off

the media, and every single

last one of them (it seemed)

showed up outside of the

Plaza.

Thisisgoingtobebad,

Princess Mia said as we

pulled up in front of the red

carpet leading to the front

doorsofthehotel.

I had to agree with her.

Ive never in my WHOLE

LIFE seen as many people

holding cameras as were

waitingforusinfrontofthat

hotel! At first I thought it

musthavebeenforsomesort

of movie premiere or

something.

But, when the limo

stopped,andamaninagreen

uniformwithgoldbraidonit

came up to the door of the

limo and opened it, and I

heard all the people with

cameras yelling my name, I

knew: It wasnt a movie

premiere. Those peoplewere

thereforme.ME!

And they werent just

yellingmyname,either,buta

lot of questions, some of

them not very nice (or true),

like:

1. How did I feel abouthaving been

abandoned by my

richwhitedad?

2. Did I think it wasbecauseIwasblack?

3. Was I upset that myparents never got

married?

4. Who was I going to

suefirst?

5. What was I going todo now that I was a

princess, go to

Disneyland? (OK, this

question was kind of

funny. Not all the

questionsweremean.)

Princess Mia heard the

rude questions, too. I could

tellbecauseshelookedangry.

Hermouthgotverysmalland

hereyebrowsslanteddown.

Uh, I said, looking out

at all the reporters. Maybe

we should come back some

othertime.

No, Princess Mia said,

reachingouttostraightenmy

school tie.Itsalwaysgoing

to be like this. Im afraid

youre just going to have to

getusedtoit.Youdonthave

to answer them if you dont

wantto.Infact,Irecommend

thatyoudont.Justsmileand

wave.

Smile andwave? Iwas

a little bit shocked. I didnt

think people asking things

likethatthingsthatwereso

rude,andwerent intheleast

bit truedeserved to be

smiled at, much less waved

to.Really?

Really.She showedme

how to smile very big, and

waveusingonlymyhand,not

my whole arm, because its

lesstiring.Yes,thatsright,

shesaidwhenItriedit.Then

smile like this.Shepasteda

giantsmileonherface.

I tried it, though it felt

very fake. I didnt see how

anyonecouldpossiblybelieve

it was a real smile. Like

this?

Bigger, she said, still

waving and smiling, but not

moving her lips at all when

shespoke.There,youvegot

it.Perfect.Youreanatual.

I said I didnt feel like a

natural, so Princess Mia let

mepracticeanotherminuteor

so.Wedidnthaveanyoneto

practice smiling and waving

to inside the limo except

FrancoisandLars,sincewed

dropped off the ladies-in-

waitingattheirapartments,so

we smiled and waved to

them. Lars looked the most

impressed, andoffered a few

otherinstructions.

Ready? he finally

asked, and Princess Mia

lookedatme.

I shrugged, even though

my stomach was filled with

nervous butterflies, and

slipped on my backpack,

wishingitwasamagicshield

like some of the warrior

princesses in Nishis movies

have.But there arenomagic

shields.Iguessso.

Good, Lars said. One,

two,three.

On threewe got out of

the limo and hurried across

the red carpet and up the

stepstothehotelsfrontdoor.

Thetruthwas,Icouldhardly

see where I was walking, so

many flashbulbs were going

off. If it hadnt been for

Princess Mias hand around

myarm,Iwouldhavetripped

andfallenflatonmyface.

Fortunately the reporters

were being held back by the

doormen (and even some

police officers). Everyone

was shouting, Princess

Olivia!PrincessOlivia!Over

here! I couldnt hear

anythingelse.

I almost looked, even

though Lars had said not to.

His instructions in the limo

were:

1.Dontlook.

2.Dontansweranyonesquestions.

3.Dont acceptanygiftsanyone might try to

giveyou.

4. Even if you see yourbest friend standing

there in the crowd,

dontgouptoher.

Id thought about Nishi

andhowmuchIwasmissing

her (even though wed just

been texting) and had asked

himwhy.

Because then everyone

will start crowding her in

order to touch you, and

therell be a stampede, and

the barricade will fall down,

and your friend will get

trampled, hed said. If you

want to see your friend get

trampled,thatsfine.

Uh I dont, thanks,

Idsaid.

If your friend really

wants to see you, the safest

thingforhertodoisschedule

anappointment.

Iguessthisishowitisto

beaprincess.Peopleaskyou

rude questions and expect

youtoanswer.Youcanthop

on your bike and go over to

your friends house anymore

or youll be mobbed (or

kidnapped).Instead,youhave

toscheduleanappointment

toseeeachother.

Still,Ireallywantedtobe

able to share what was

happeningwithNishi(despite

themeanquestions).

So when I got to the top

of the steps, I turned around

andsnappedaquickpicofall

thepeopleyelling.

I cant wait to see what

Nishi says when I send it to

her.

The inside of the Plaza

Hotel is the fanciest place

Ive ever been in my LIFE.

The ceilings are probably

about a hundred feet high,

and thechandeliersaremade

out of real crystals and

GOLD.Probably100percent.

I couldnt stop staring at

everything. I felt so out of

place!Therewasevenalady

playing a HARP in a place

that PrincessMia (I still feel

weird calling her my sister)

told me is called the Palm

Court.

Youre lucky were not

going there, she saidonour

way to the elevators. They

make you eat egg salad

sandwiches.

I like egg salad

sandwiches, I said. I like

any kind of sandwiches, as

longastheyhavegluten.

Oh, she said. Well,

then well go there later and

youcanhavealltheeggsalad

sandwichesyouwant.

Except for the mean

reporters, its like Ive died

andgonetoheaven.

Ontheelevator therewas

amanwhose job it is just to

worktheelevator.Heridesin

itupanddownallday,sothe

richpeopledonthave to tire

themselves out, pushing all

thebuttons.

I bet he gets carsick. I

looked around, but I didnt

see any throw-up. They

probably take the bucket

awaywhennooneislooking.

Hello, Lyle, Princess

Miasaidtotheelevatorman.

Lyle, Id like you to meet

mysister,Olivia.

Hello, Princess Olivia,

Lyle said. He nodded as he

pushed the button that said

PE. At first I thought,

Why would they be taking

metodophysicaleducation?

School was out hours ago!

Then I realized PE had to

standforsomethingelse.

Hope you have a nice

visit,Lylesaid.

Thanks, Isaid,politely.

IhopeIwill,too.

The elevator ride to PE

took a long time, and when

the doors opened, there was

no sign of a gymnasium.

Instead, we were in a red-

carpeted hallway with white

wallstrimmedingold.Asign

on the wall said in elegant

gold script PENTHOUSE EAST.

So thats what PE stood for.

Theeastpenthouse!

I had never been in a

penthousebefore,but Iknew

from all the TV Id seen at

Nishis house that it was the

fanciest apartment in the

building.Also, it was on the

top floor of the building, so

that meant it was the most

expensive.Obviously,princes

are very rich, from having

saved all their familymoney

for many hundreds of years,

which is another reason it

made me so mad that those

reporters downstairs had

asked about my dad

abandoning me, when

actually hed sent me large

checks (and personal letters)

everymonth,andithadbeen

mymotherwhodrequestedI

not be told of my royal

heritage.

Then,aswewalkeddown

the long, hushed hallway,

which was filled with tall

vasesofreallivewhiteroses,

Inoticedthatadoorwasopen

attheendofthehallway,and

standing in the doorwaywas

an old white lady I

recognized from some of the

samemagazines inwhichId

seen Princess Mia. But Id

never bothered to read

anything about her because

shelookedsoboring.

Except that Princess Mia

looked pretty scared of her.

She was standing up

straighter and holding her

pursetighter.

So this is she? the old

lady asked, before wed

gotten all the way down the

hallway.

Thisisshe,Grandmre,

Princess Mia said in a very

politevoice.

I couldntbelieve it!This

was my grandmother,

Dowager Princess Clarisse

Renaldo? She looked

completely unlike any

grandma Ive ever seen! She

wasntwarmandcuddly like

Nishis grandma, who loves

tocookand tell storiesabout

life back in India, where

Nishisfamilycomesfrom.

Mydadsmomistalland

skinny and was dressed in a

dark purple suit with even

darkerpurplefuronthecuffs

ofhersleeves(andImpretty

sureitwasntfakefur,which

we learned in school isnt

very environmentally

conscious), and her

fingernails were long and

pointyandherlongwhitehair

was piled up on top of her

headinabigbun.

Also, Im not sure but I

think she might have drawn

hereyebrowsonwithablack

pencilandshehadonabouta

milliongiantringsthatIthink

were real diamonds and

rubies and pearls and

emeralds.InfactIknow they

were, because shes a

princess!

Miapokedmeintheback

and suddenly I remembered

what shed taught me in the

cartodoandsaywhenImet

mygrandmother.

Its sonice tomeetyou,

Grandmothis that a

miniaturepoodle?

Ihadntmeant tosaythat

last part, but I couldnt help

it!!!AllofasuddenasIwas

curtsying I saw this little

whitepowderpuffwithatiny

black nose peeking out from

aroundGrandmresfeet.

I love poodles! I cried.

Theyre themost intelligent

breed of dog. And theyre

also very excellent

swimmers.

I didnt mean to start

yelling everything I know

about dogs in front of my

newroyalgrandmother.

But I just really, really

likedogs,almostasmuchasI

love kangaroos. Aunt

Catherinewould never let us

have one (not a kangaroo, of

course, but a dog or a cat or

evenaguineapig).

Yes, my grandmother

saidverystiffly.Poodlesare

very intelligent, arent they?

Didyouknowtheywereused

asdefensedogson thehome

frontinWorldWarII?

Yes, I said. Ive read

all about them. They also

dont shed. I had tried this

argument many times on

Aunt Catherine in order to

convince her to let us get a

poodle, but it had never

worked.

Interesting. My other

granddaughter only likes

cats.

Grandmre looked at my

sister,whosaid,Idontonly

likecats.Iveonlyeverhada

cat. Grandmre, could we

comeinnow?

Grandmre opened the

door to let us in, and I

couldntbelievewhatIfound

inside.

Besides the floors being

white marble, streaked with

black,likeinamuseum,there

were antiques all over the

place! I dont mean just any

antiques, like fancypaintings

on the wallsthough there

were lots of those, of old-

timey sailing ships and fruit

andprettyladiesinwigs,with

huge gold frames around

thembutalso:

1. An actual mummifiedhawk in an Egyptian

sarcophagus

2. Tusks from narwhals,which are practically

extinct now, and Im

pretty sure illegal to

own outside of

museums

3.Awhitegrandpiano

4.Asuitofarmor

Even the furniture youre

allowed to sit on is antique

and way fancier than

anything Aunt Catherine

owns, and she gets all her

furniture directly from

designers showrooms in

Manhattan.

I was staring at the view

of Central Park outside the

huge, floor-to-ceiling

windowswhich are really

doors, leading out to a huge

balconynot being able to

believemy grandma lived in

a building so chic that it has

doormen and an elevator

attendant, when another dog

came running into the room

from another part of the

apartment. Iknewatoncehe

was a poodle, too, but this

onewasmucholder than the

white one, so old, in fact, he

had no fur at all and looked

like a wrinkly old man, but

stillquiteadorable,ofcourse.

The old dog was barking

andgrowlinglikeaguarddog

as he hurried up to me, but

when I smiled and squatted

down to be eye level with

him, he stopped dead in his

tracksandstaredatme.

Well, hello, I said. It

washardnottolaughatsuch

a little dog who clearly

thoughthewassoferocious.

Thats when he put his

pawsonmykneesandstarted

lickingmy face, his little tail

waggingsofast,itwasablur.

Hi,Isaid,grabbinghim

and scooping him up in my

arms so he could kiss me

more. How are you? Even

thoughhewassowrinklyand

nakedwithouthisfur,hewas

stillquitesoftandwarm.

Rommel? Grandma

sounded shocked. Whatever

isthematterwiththatdog?

Nothings the matter

withhim,Isaid.

Hes never let anyone

pickhimuplikethat.

Oh, Im sorry. I started

to put Rommel down, but

Grandmasaid,No,no,never

mind.Ifhelikesyou,helikes

you. Would you like a

cocktail?

Grandmre, I heardmy

sistercallfromthenextroom.

Shestwelve.

I meant an aperitif, of

course.

Has there ever been a

luckiergirlthanmeinallthe

world?IvefoundoutIhave:

1.Asister

2.Agrandmother

3. And two adoptedpoodles

allinoneday!

JustwhenIthoughtthings

couldnt get better, I was

running around after

Snowball (thats the girl

poodle,who still hasher fur.

Grandma said I could name

her, so I picked Snowball)

andIwentpastthisoneroom

filled with books and there

was a bald white man

standing there on his cell

phone and I knewI just

knewhewasmydad.

(Well, also because Id

seen photos of the prince of

Genovia in the same

magazines Id seen Princess

Mia and Grandma, and the

man at the desk looked

exactly like the photos.Only

lessmean,somehow,because

hed shaved off his

mustache.)

Whenhesawme,hegota

strangeexpressiononhisface

andsaid,Barry,Imgoingto

have to call you back, and

put his phone in his pocket

andasked,Olivia?

Ididntevenstoptothink.

Because when you see your

father for the first time in

your whole life, you dont

have to think. You just run

over to where hes standing

and throw your arms around

him and hug him, even

though of course, being a

prince, hes wearing military

medals.

Oof, he said, I guess

becauseIdburiedmyheadin

hisstomachprettyhard.

But he hugged me back,

saying, Its very good to

meetyouatlast.

You have no idea. I

rested my cheek against his

soft belly and smelled his

Dad-like smell, which is a

mix of mouthwash, the

leather from his belt (which

holds his sword), and

whatever detergent the hotel

uses.

Yes, Dad said. Well,

Imverysorryittooksolong.

It was your mothers idea,

you know, for you not to

knowthetruth,andforusnot

tohaveanypersonalcontact.

She was worried about you

growing up in the celebrity

spotlight.

I know, I said, still

hugging him. I already met

thereportersdownstairs.

Im very sorry about all

that

I could hear his stomach

juices digesting whatever

hed had for lunch. It was a

comforting sound, but I felt

bad for him anyway. All

these years later, he is still

clearly devastated over the

lossofmybeautiful,beautiful

mother.

Well, who wouldnt be?

Shewasanamazinglady.

I hoped the sight of me

wouldnt be too painful for

him.

Thats another reason

yourmotherthoughtitwould

besaferforyounottoknow,

Dadwenton.Thepresscan

besointrusive.Youhavethe

right to grow up without

being harassed. And from

what I understand, even

before they found out, you

werealreadybeingpickedon

atschool

Iletgoofhimatlast.

Yes, I said, looking up

into his face. But didnt

PrincessMiasmomwantthe

samethingforher?Andshes

turned out all right. I think I

willtoo.

Helaidhishandsonboth

myshouldersandsaid,witha

sigh, Yes, Olivia, I agree

with you. You seem like a

very special girl. But it

wasnt easy forMia, and its

notgoing tobeeasyforyou,

either.

Iknow,Isaid.ButIm

tougherthanIlook.AndIve

already learned how to smile

andwave.Look.

I showed him the smile

and wave that Princess Mia

had taught me, though the

effect was somewhat ruined

by Snowball choosing that

moment to jump up on me,

because shes still a puppy,

and she hasnt been properly

trained.

No, Snowball, I said,

takingholdofherfrontpaws

and giving them a gentle

squeeze. Down. I put her

front paws back on the floor

soshedknowdownmeant

keeping