Mia

I hadn't been expecting a young man to be living any where near me, forget in the very same apartment. The size of the entire Moscovitz apartment is about the size of my suite back home.

There were three (small) bedrooms, a kitchen and a den. And ONE bathroom. I was supposed to share a bathroom?

Michael put my bag in the room I was sharing and I peeked in. The room was the size of my closet back home. And I was to share it with another girl?

And that boy wasn't much help to me. He acted like I should not be surprised about anything in this foreign city.

"What is so terrible about your sister?" I asked, walking the length of the apartment for the third time. He was sitting on the kitchen counter eating an apple. "I mean, why must I prepare for her?"

He laughed. "Because she's Lilly. The opposite of every girl I know."

"Even me?" I asked, peeking into a room.

"That's our den," he explained. "My favorite show, Life of Riley is on tonight. You can listen with me if you want."

"Life of Riley?" I asked. "Sounds terribly boring." I fingered a shelf and lifted a pile of dust.

"Sorry we aren't very exciting around here. But my parents run late hours. They deal with some war veterans and more lately widows."

"Am I very different from Lilly?" I asked, worried. I brushed the dust off my finger. I could carry a conversation with this boy, but if this girl is so terribly different then...

"Yes. You are much prettier," he said looking out the window.

"Why thank you," I said, blushing. I was not used to being around boys. Grandmere believed it was improper for a young princess to be exposed to men at my age. I would have to wait until I was eighteen. I wondered how she would feel about a handsome seventeen year old living down the hall from me. I wonder if Papa told her.

"All I can say is good luck with her. She's had the same friends since she was in nappies. She doesn't warm up to very many girls."

Great. I'd be just as lonely here as I was back home. At least at home I had my family. I had Lars. "So I won't have any friends then. That's fine. I'm..." I was going to say accustomed to it but I didn't want to. I didn't want him to think I was...a jerk. Someone no one would want to be friends with. It seemed likely that he could become a friend.

"You're what?" he asked.

"Nothing. I'll be fine."

"And you do have friends," he replied, getting off the counter.

"I do?"

"Well, sorry if you don't think I could ever count as one. But I thought you would consider befriending me."

I half smiled, "Okay. I suppose I could try that."

"You could start by apologizing for being so rude to me."

"I?" No one ever expected me to apologize for anything. If anyone apologized it was the other person.

"Yes, you," he teased. "Forget it. I'm going to my room. You can go settle in Lilly's room. We have a dresser set up in there for you to put your things in. But no desk. You'll have to do your homework here in the kitchen with me."

I could handle that. "Oh, very well then."

He rolled his eyes. He must think I'm rather snobby. I think I'm snobby. "Yeah, well, I'll see you later. You can put the radio on or something...um, see ya."

He must think I'm a terrible snob. He must hate me. Why else would he feel so uncomfortable and leave so shortly.

He left me all alone in the kitchen. I had never even been in a kitchen before. Princesses do not go where the servants work.

I hurried down to where he had put my things to find a very sparse side, and assumed it was mine. Lilly's side was covered with news clippings and war posters. I stared at them and started reading them. Things were very different here in America. They had a very different view on the war effort. My families idea of a war effort was to escape. To merely survive.

But we cannot possibly be called cowards. My father had met up with some generals of the American and British armies and was told that if we did not evacuate, the Nazi's would execute each and everyone of us, like the Romanov's were killed in Russia (but I hold out hope that Anastasia, the youngest daughter, escaped, that is the rumor going around court...there is a young woman no one knows that appears on occasion, but no one has the guts to talk to her!).

We had no choice but to escape. My grandfather had utterly refused to give into the Nazi's demands. They expected, since Genovia was so teeny, that Grandpapa would do whatever they asked. They had promised money and a high standing after they defeated the allies. But Grandpapa knew the truth.

He had seen it in the other small countries that gave in. The Nazi's lied. The Nazi's had killed the people and tortured minorities. Even killed Catholics (after all, Genovia is staunch Catholics). Grandpapa rejected Hitler's offer and therefore put our entire family in danger (instead of the entire country, which I suppose is fair). He has put the safety of Genovia in the hands of the Americans. He had sincerely tried to have the French take care of Genovia, but they had problems in their own homeland so they could not afford troops to defend our own people.

Grandpapa sent a decree out, ordering as many Genovians who could, to escape. To find refuge in the United States or Canada. I watched from my window all the people boarding ships. They didn't know if they would ever see their homes again. And if they did, what kind of condition they would be in.

But then it was my turn. I left the day before the rest of my family. My parents promised to send me a telegram once they arrived in Indiana ,where my Mama is originally from. She met my father when she was a Red Cross nurse during the first World War. She was only eighteen, he was twenty six. They got married about six years after the war ended; six years after they met.

My grandparents had disliked Mama a great deal so they continued to court secretly. I find it terribly romantic, and loved to have my mother tell me the story as a bedtime tale. Grandpapa liked Mama, but Grandmama said no. Absolutely not. Mama was American. Grandmama did not like Americans. She found them to be uncouth and rude. I happen to think that very same thing. But not Mama. She was now one of us.

Mama is very warm and fun. She likes to paint and often does Papa and my portraits. Grandpapa even has asked her to make his official portrait that would be presented to the people upon his death (presented to the people meaning shown to them, but then hung in our private library).

She told me very little about her home, Indiana. I begged her for details about America but she promised that anything she told me would help very little. She had never been outside of Hayley, Indiana until she was eighteen, when she was sent to North Carolina to be a nurse for the wounded soldiers. And then Papa had set up a place for her to live in Boston. "Even though Boston is very much like New York, I am sure that times have changed. I could only tell you about Boston, not New York. It has been ages since I returned there...since before I married your Papa," she explained the night before I left.

I had cried buckets that night. Mama and Papa slept in my bed with me, trying to calm my fears. They promised that we would be together again in time for my birthday the following May. "But what about Christmas?" I asked. "We will not have our tree-"

"But in our hearts we will be together. And we will celebrate more Christmases together in the future," Papa promised. "Missing one will not tear us apart."

"Why must I be alone?" I stammered. "You two are going to be together. Grandmama and Grandpapa will be together. Why am I to be all alone?"

"Because we have all produced heirs. If something were to happen to us there is still you. You will carry on the family name," Papa explained.

"I suppose if Simon had not run off I would be with you?" I asked, mentioning a name that we never spoke of. My twin brother who had run away to join the allies when we turned sixteen the earlier in the year.

My parents looked at one another, "Mia, please...never..."

"I apologize," I whispered. "But don't you ever wonder...where he is now?" I asked hopefully. Maybe they did know.

I saw a tear run down my Mama's face. "Sleep now my Mia. We must be strong for Genovia."

I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer to keep my family safe, even Simon who had deserted me. Who put all the pressure on me to succeed.

"Why are you crying?" a harsh voice asked from the hallway.

I turned and saw a short puggish girl about my age. "You are Lilly?" I asked, quickly turning away. No one was to see a princess crying, even if they didn't know I was a princess.

"Yes. Why are you crying? Did you get bad news or something?"

I shook my head. I know, completely improper but I am in America. "No," I said turning again to face her. I extended my right hand.

She took it and shook it. "My friends and I are going to the pictures if you wanted to come along with us. The new Humphrey Bogart movie."

I looked at her oddly. "What is a Humphrey Bogart?"

It was her turn to look at me strangely. "He's the most famous, handsome actor in the whole world."

I nodded, "Oh, of course," I laughed. "I must have misheard you...."

"Yeah, that must be it."