A/N- Okay, I was just on FF.net-books-The Princess Diaries and I saw my beloved story at the VERY BOTTOM OF THE LIST! I completely freaked out!!! I mean, why the heck would be precious story get the very last spot thingymajiggy?!?! So I haven't updated in ages….. Big friggin deal! It's still better than a bunch of those out there! If I can say so myself…. {the huddled masses- O please! Silvertongue, o please, say so yourself, silvertongue! Silvertongue- Okay, okay, I'll say so myself!}

So I thought to myself- Silvertongue, u better get out there and kick some fanfic booti!

Okay, okay, okay. You caught me. I really thought- Doh! Stealing Harvard was like the worst movie ever! Doh…. StalkBoi? Uhhhh. That sounds vaguely famil- THAT'S MY F***ING STORY!!!!!!!!

But u know. The other one sounded better.

And on with the show.

LITERATI ALL THE WAY! Hee hee hee hee hee.

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CHAPTER 9

September 28, 2002- Lilly's Room

I feel stupid. Not the usual "2+2=4.5" kind of stupid either. I feel "screamed my lungs out in an empty house, one gigantic purple bruise, nose runny" kind of stupid.

What I wouldn't give to flunk Algebra right now. Seriously.

------- I just screamed again- someone's coming up the stairs. More later.

Later- It was Lilly:

Lilly: Mia, stop screaming.

Me: WHAT DO YOU MEAN STOP SCREAMING?!?! YOU LOCKED ME IN YOUR ROOM AND YOUR BROTHER'S A PSYCHOPATH AND MY BACK REALLY REALLY REALLY HURTS AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO STOP SCREAMING?!??!??!??!
Lilly: Yes.

Me: WHAT?!

Lilly: Why does your back hurt, Mia?

Me: BECAUSE FRIGGIN SKI DUDE LANDED IN ME, THAT'S WHY! MY LEG HURTS TOO!

Lilly: Ski Dude?! (I could almost feel her raising her eyebrows)

Me: YES. SKI DUDE!

Lilly: MIA!

Me: WHAT?
Lilly: STOP SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: Fine. Unlock the door and let me out.

Lilly: You'll run away.

Me: I have good reason to.

Lilly: *Sigh* You only THINK you have good reason to, Mia. You really don't know what you're talking about.

Me: So THEN TELL ME!

Lilly: Not if you're gonna keep screaming like that, Mia.

(Footsteps)

She left. As you can probably tell.

Where does she get off, telling me to quit screaming? And then saying I don't know what I'm talking about?! I mean, just because I don't often know what I'm talking about doesn't necessarily mean I don't know what I'm talking about NOW, because I SAW it, and I mean how many people go around saying- You don't know what you're seeing- yeah, not many, and I DID see it, I swear I saw it all, and I've got the casualties to prove I'm not making it up, so Lilly saying that when she's SUPPOSED to be my best friend really gets me bent out of shape and so now instead of being a nice copper coat hanger I'm like this freaky twisted thingy and that visual gets me really sad because even though I've been a freak all of my life, and more so these past months, I never got used to being freaky, so thinking about myself as a twisted copper freaky thing makes me feel yicky and I hate feeling yicky, so I wish I never thought of that analogy or metaphor or simile or whatever because it just makes me feel worse and not better explained or poetic and stuff so it's just a waste of artificial lead and recycled paper to write about it, and it didn't even help me at all.

OMG!!!! I didn't even hear him come up the stairs! Michael's at my door!!!! Well, Lilly's door. Write later.

Even later-

Michael: Mia? Are you okay? You've been really quiet lately.

(I debated not answering, but he sounded really super sad)

Me: I'm writing.

Michael: About what?

Me: Freaky coat hangers and Ski Dudes. (I blushed. I hadn't meant to say that, it just came out)

Michael: Oh…….. Wait, what?

Me: (still blushing) Nevermind. What do you want? ( I tried to be assertive there)

Michael: Why were you screaming? (He said this really suddenly)

Me: Because you locked me in room.

Michael: So? I didn't hurt you.

Me: Yet!

Michael: MIA! Why would you think I'd ever want to hurt you?!

Me: I dunno….. MAYBE BECAUSE YOU'VE BEEN FUCKING STALKING ME!!!!!!

Michael: (He seemed pretty taken aback by my swearing. So was I, really) I-I-I hav-haven't been st-st-stalking y-you, Mi-Mia.

Me: Then what's with those Polaroids you have of me, huh? Huh? ( I was close to tears now)

Michael: ………………………. What Polaroids, Mia?

Me: The ones with the writing on the back - AMELIA MOSCOVITZ, 4:30 PM, SATURDAY, NO WORD YET! (So I have them memorized. No biggy.)

Michael: *whispering* Shit!

Me: See! See! You ARE stalking me, aren't you! I'm right! Aren't I!

Michael: No! Yes! No! Go away! (He sounded really messed up)

Me: Hello? Michael? I'm LOCKED IN A ROOM! I CAN'T GO AWAY!!!\

Michael: Oh, yeah. I'll be back later to talk more about th-this, Thermopolis.

Me: Michael?! Let's talk now! MICHAEL?!?!

His footsteps went down the stairs. Away from me. I hope not for forever….