Part 17 (1/2)

It's amazing how boys can do that.

Fortunately, even though I couldn't see very well because of the tears that filled up my eyes by Michael leaving like that, and my heart had just been smashed to pieces (again), I could still think clearly. Sort of.

The only thing I could think to do was give J.P. the speech that Grandmere had made me rehea.r.s.e nine million times for just such an occasion-though I'd never actually believed such an occasion would ever arise: ”Oh, insert name of proposer here, I'm just so overwhelmed by the intensity of your emotions, I hardly know what to say. You've truly swept me off my feet, and I do believe my head is swimming-”

No lie, in this case.

”I'm so young and inexperienced, you see, and you're such a man of the world...I just wasn't expecting this.”

Absolutely no lie, again in this case. Who proposes in high school-even if it is just a promise ring, or whatever? Oh, wait, that's right. Boris.

Hold on, where's my dad? Oh, there he is. Oh, my G.o.d, I've never seen his face that color. I think his head is literally going to explode, he looks so mad. He must think, like everyone else, that J.P. just proposed. He didn't hear that all J.P. did was ask me to the prom. He saw the ring, saw J.P. kneel, and just a.s.sumed...oh, this is awful! Why did J.P. have to get me a ring? Is that what Michael thought? That J.P. was asking me to marry him?

I want to die now.

”I think I need to go have a bit of a lie-down in my boudoir-alone-and let my maid apply some lavender oil to my temples while I think this over. I'm just so flattered and thrilled. But, no, don't call me, I'll call you.”

The truth is Grandmere's speech just seemed the tiniest bit...outdated.

And also it didn't really seem to apply considering the fact that J.P. and I have been going out for almost two years. So it's not like his prom-ring proposal was completely out of left field.

Come on! I don't even know where I want to go to college next year. How am I supposed to know who I want to be with for the foreseeable future?

But I have a pretty good clue: Not someone who hasn't even glanced at my book yet, even though he's had it more than forty-eight hours.

I'm just saying.

The thing is, I'd never say that in front of everyone on the whole boat, and humiliate J.P.! I love him. I do. I just...

Why, oh, why did he have to kneel down like that in front of everyone? And with a ring?

So instead of Grandmere's speech-and totally aware that there was this growing silence as I just stood there, idiotically saying nothing at all, I said, feeling my cheeks getting hotter and hotter, ”Well, we'll see!”

Well, we'll see? WELL, WE'LL SEE?

A totally hot, totally perfect, totally wonderful guy who, by the way, loves me, and is willing to wait for me for all eternity, asks me to go to the prom with him, and also offers me what looks, at least according to the size chart Grandmere made me memorize in my head, like a three-carat diamond ring, and I say, Well, we'll see?

What's wrong with me? Seriously, do I have some sort of wish to live alone (well, with Fat Louie) for the rest of my life?

I really think I do. J.P.'s confident smile wavered...but just a little.

”That's my girl,” he said, and stood up and hugged me, while somewhere out in the crowd, someone started to clap...slowly at first (I recognized that clap...it had to have been Boris), and then more rapidly, until everyone was politely applauding.

It was horrible! They were applauding for me saying ”Well, we'll see!” in response to my boyfriend's asking me to the prom! I didn't deserve applause. I deserved to be tossed overboard. They were only doing it because I'm a princess, and their hostess. I know deep down inside, they were thinking, ”What a byotch!”

Why? Why had Michael left?

As J.P. hugged me, I whispered, ”We have to talk.”

He whispered back, ”I have certification to prove it's blood free. Is that why you look so freaked out?”

”Partly,” I said, inhaling his mingled scent of dry cleaning and Carolina Herrera for Men. We'd stepped away from the microphone by then, so there was no chance of anyone overhearing us. ”It's just-”

”It's only a promise ring.” J.P. broke the hug first, but he still held on to one of my hands...into which he'd slipped the box holding the ginormous diamond ring. ”You know I'd do anything to make you happy. I thought this was what you wanted.”

I just looked up at him in total confusion. Part of my confusion was over the fact that here was this wonderful, wonderful guy who really did mean what he'd just said-I knew he would do anything to make me happy. So why couldn't I just let him?

And another part of me was wondering what I had ever said to make him think what I wanted was a ring-promise, engagement, or otherwise?

”It's what Boris got Tina,” J.P. explained, seeing my lack of comprehension. ”And you were so happy for her.”

”Right,” I said. ”Because that's the kind of thing she likes-”

”I know,” J.P. said. ”The same way she likes romance novels, and you wrote one-”

”So naturally if her boyfriend gave her a promise ring, I'd want one, too?” I shook my head. h.e.l.lo. Couldn't he see there was a big difference between me and Tina?

”Look,” J.P. said, closing my fingers around the velvet box. ”I saw the ring, and it reminded me of you. Think of it as a birthday gift if it freaks you out to think of it the other way. I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but I just want you to know...I'm not going anywhere, Mia. I'm not leaving you, for j.a.pan or anywhere else. I'm staying right here, by your side. So whatever you decide, whenever you decide it...you know where to find me.”

That's when he leaned down and kissed me.

And then he, too, walked away.

Just like Michael.

And that's when I ran for the safety of...this. Wherever I am now.

I know I should come down. My guests are probably leaving, and it's rude that I'm not there to say good-bye.

But h.e.l.lo! How many times does a girl get sort-of proposed to? On her birthday? In front of everyone she knows? And then turns the guy down? Sort of? Only not really?

Also...what's wrong with me? Why didn't I just say yes? J.P. is clearly the most amazing guy on the planet...he's wonderful, gorgeous, fantastic, and sweet. And he loves me. He LOVES me!

So why can't I just love him back, the way he deserves to be loved?

Oh, crud...someone's coming. Who do I know who's limber enough to climb all the way up here? Not Grandmere, that's for sure...

Tuesday, May 2, midnight, limo home from my party My dad isn't too happy with me.

He's the one who climbed all the way to the yacht's bow to tell me I had to stop ”sulking” (his word for what I was doing, which isn't completely accurate, in my opinion...I'd call it venting, since I'm writing in my journal), and come down and say good-bye to all my guests.

That wasn't all he said, either. Not by a long shot.

He said I have to go to the prom with J.P. He said you can't go out with a guy for nearly two years, then decide, a week before the senior prom, that you're not going to go with him, just because you don't feel like going to the prom.

Or, as he so unfairly put it, ”Just because your ex-boyfriend happens to have come back to town.”

I was like, ”Whatever, Dad! Michael and I are just friends!” Love, Michael. ”Like going to the prom with him had ever even OCCURRED to me!”

Because it totally hasn't. Who takes a twenty-one-year-old college graduate millionaire robotic-surgical-arm inventor to their high school prom? Who, by the way, broke up with me two years ago, and also clearly doesn't care about me now either, so it's not like he'd go if I asked.