A/N: Hey, this is my first Princess Diaries fic. I've read the books, seen the movie, and daydreamed enough about all this-thought I might as well write a story. This could be a one-shot. But if you guys tell me to, I'll write more. So...let me know.


Rating: PG - I'm not sure why, it just is.


Disclaimer: Well, duh, Meg Cabot wrote the series, Disney made the movie, I own nothing but the characters you fail to recognize. Unless you're really tired and don't remember who Michael is or something...(mutters to self: "Forget Michael Moscovitz...haha...funny")


POV: Point of view changes often because I think it's really fun to see what everyone's thinking. I hope it's not too confusing. :)


Time frame: This is post-Josh Richter, post-Kenny Showalter, post Mia's mom getting married. In this story, however, Michael never told Mia how he felt about her and Mia never wrote love letters to him.


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Lily's POV

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"It's like...she doesn't even see me...ya know?"

"Highly unlikely, Michael," and then I returned to the professional, business-like voice, "How does this make you feel?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"Hmmm, very interesting. Note to self regarding client's condition: 'Becomes hostile when asked to be more open with feelings.'"

"I'm not your client."

"How does Mia's obvious oblivion to your feelings for her affect you?"

"I just wish I could get over her because obviously she's never going to like me back."

"Men! You're all so stupid!" Ok, clear throat. Try again. "So how long have you been having these feelings?"

"Oh, Lily, come ON. I need advice not therapy."

I began to scribble furiously, "Patient in denial of condition."

Michael Moscovitz sighed and stood up. This is what psychoanalyst parents did to their children. Frightening, really.


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Mia's POV

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"Amelia, do not slouch. I do not know what a week without lessons has done to you. What will you do when your old Grandmere has died and you have no one to remind you to sit straight?"

My grandmother could write a book on guilt. Seriously. I've never met anyone so manipulative. Of course, now I feel guilty for thinking such a horrible thing. Which, I'm sure, was her indirect intention. I hate my life.

"Amelia, are you listening to me?"

I wasn't but I wasn't about to tell HER that.

"Of course, Grandmere. Why do you ask?"

She sighed and her overly large eyes seemed to go all the way up to her tattooed eye-liner. Oh great, my nostrils were probably flaring. It's so unfair. Some monarch I'll be. Giving away Genovia's national security because I can't even lie properly!


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"Hey, kiddo, you're home!"

Mr. Gianini has always had a knack for pointing out the extremely obvious.

"Uh, yeah."

"How were your 'princess lessons?'"

"Lousy." I certainly hope he wasn't expecting a positive response. I hate to disappoint people (another reason I dislike confrontation).

I guess he wasn't too disappointed (or even interested) because he just said, "Huh" and went back to watching tv.

I was walking up the stairs when my step-father suddenly remembered something. "Oh! Mia! I forgot to tell you!"

I looked back, "Yeah?"

"Somebody called for you."

"Who?"

"Uh...M....Michael? Michael Moscovitz? Lily's brother." (As IF-like I didn't know who Michael was...I'm SO sure.)

"He did? Why? Did he leave a message? What did he say? Does he want me to call him back? Is he okay?" I didn't want to sound eager or anything.

"Uh...he wants you to call him when you get a chance." Mr. Gianini seemed bewildered by the rapid fire.

"Really? Okay!" I pounded up the stairs but then stopped abruptly and spun around, "How did he sound?"

My teacher didn't hear me.

"Frank?"

He looked up from the television again, "Yeah?"

"How did Michael sound? You know, on the phone?"

"Sound?"

"Yeah, did he sound...happy?"

"I...guess?"

"Was he mad?"

"Uh..."

"I mean, do you think he's upset with me? Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't think so."

Honestly, my mother could have picked someone a little less...aggravating to procreate with, couldn't she?


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Michael's POV

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Could Lily have BEEN more annoying?

"Michael, you need to stop sitting by this phone waiting for it ring. It makes you appear desperate. And last time I checked," Lily sniffed, "You weren't desperate."

"Desperate for Mia," I told her, despondently.

"Be that as it may, the phone is not going to ring, not matter how long you stare at–"

The phone rang.


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That's it for now...review and tell me what you think (and IF I should keep going!)


Thank you, guys...mwah...


Legs