DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Princess Diaries. If I owned Robert Schwartzman, I would do unthinkable things.

"Lilly, are you absolutely positive that you didn't see a composition notebook with my name on it anywhere?" Breathe in, breathe out. Now is not a good time to freak out. Remember your yoga breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Oh screw that, NEED HELP NOW!

"Mia, you're being a nut case. No, for the thousandth time, I have not seen your notebook. What is wrong with you anyway?" Oh nothing, except that I lost my journal and in it are all my deep-harbored feelings and secrets, which I never ever want anyone to know. That's all.

"Nothing. I just need to find that notebook."

"Mia, if you're freaking out because you lost your notes, stop it. You can buy a new notebook on the way home and you can copy my notes. It's that simple." Oh Lilly. Reasonable, logical, dependable Lilly. You would think that things could be that simple. But since I am Mia Thermopolis, nothing is simple in my life.

"They weren't notes Lilly." Please don't press it. Please don't press it.

"Well then what were they? Mia, stop freaking out. And stop throwing your books in the hall. You've gone through your locker four times now."

"Nothing" Please don't let her see I'm blushing.

"Mia, it's not nothing. You're turning red. Now what was it?" Uh oh. Lilly's giving me the "I Know You're Not Telling Me Something And I'm Not Afraid To Beat It Out Of You" look. She gives me that look a lot these days.

"It was just a kind of.journal." Why is it that I can't keep a secret?

"YOU keep a diary? You fill it with deep thoughts and emotions which you have obviously not been sharing with me, your best friend?" Why is it that everything I say around Lilly comes out wrong?

"It's not a diary. It's a journal. And you have a right to privacy, so I should too." Ha, got her on that one.

"Granted. Although, I must say I'm proud of you Mia. You're finally dealing with your problems and your emotions. Maybe this means you'll be more assertive and aggressive instead of passive and timorous." Lilly has a way of making even the simplest things complex.

"Thanks, I think. Now help me look."

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On the back of all brochures for high school they should have a surgeon's general posting. "WARNING: High school may leave you open for the following: encounters with bitchy cheerleaders, embarrassing moments, back- stabbing friends, awkward pauses and falling for you little sister's best friend." Although, with my luck, that last one only applies to me. When did it happen? When did I fall for Mia? It wasn't the makeover. I thought she was beautiful before that. Although the first time I saw her, I thought my heart had exploded in my chest. I couldn't talk for like two minutes. So when did it happen? I mean, seniors don't just fall for freshman out of the blue. But I can't think of a time when I wasn't in love with her. What's this? "Property of Mia Thermopolis" Well, as her Algebra tutor, I have every right to open it to see if it's math related. So I can return it to her quickly. Right? Well, maybe not, but I'm opening it anyway. Oh my god.

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"Mia, sit down. You're making Pavlov so nervous he's going to pee on the carpet. And I'm not cleaning it up." Right, Sit down. Stop worrying about the possibility of someone reading that notebook. Right, just be calm.

"I can't Lilly, what if someone reads my journal?"

"No one will read your diary. And even if they do, what's the big deal? I mean, if it's nothing but rants about Lana, who cares? Everyone knows we loathe her, so it wouldn't be a shock."

"It's not about Lana."

"Well then what IS it about Mia?" It's all about your brother! It's all about your hot, sweet, often shirtless brother. The guy who wanders around your house, plays the guitar and occupies my every dream! That's what it's about!!!! But you don't know this because if I told you, you would tell me that I actually view him as more of a brother and that this is all some psychological trauma placed on me by my father.

"Just stuff about being a princess. I mean, there have been quite a few changes. Stuff that I needed to sort out."

"And why couldn't you do this with me?" Lilly is looking all pouty, like a really sad pug. I sigh in frustration. No matter what I do with Lilly, it's usually wrong.

"Because, you're often out with Boris or you're busy. Besides, it's stuff I have to handle on my own." It's not a total lie, is it? Oh god, imagine if I was like Pinnochio. My nose would be as long as the state of California by now.

"Well, stop being such a nutcase and sit down. We need to get this started." Every Friday night, Lilly and I have a sleepover and watch movies. This weekend we decided we would pay tribute to the eighties by watching Molly Ringwald movies. We decided on 16 Candles, Pretty In Pink, and the Breakfast Club. Tonight, we were going to resolve the debate over who was hotter in the Breakfast Club, Judd Nelson or Emilio Estevez. So I sit on the bed and lie back, trying to ignore the fact that somewhere in this city of thousands of people, someone is reading my diary.