Author's Note: I realized who my Mia is in this. Joss Stone. And Michael…well, he's a work in progress still. I need to figure that out so you can all picture it in your heads. Anyways, just watched IHeart Huckabees. Got my fill of Jason. Made me think of a dear friend that went by two names for ten of her sixteen years.

Kate: This is a long story. Do people just go off and admit that they are in love with their best friend in real life? No. Both believe the other is only doing what they do out of intoxication. And I'll do an epilogue when I finish posting this. So it'll be awhile. I have to re-write it. I didn't like it.

Risethesetting: Woot! You actually reviewed. I knew I'd have to add more to get your attention. You'll love Sarah Jane. Trust the Kristin.

Brianna: Her family will have a lot to do with the story. And his family with the ending. And in the future

Lyra: I hope book Michael is a bit like mine, but I suspect he isn't. He's probably a whole lot more self involved. Who knows, maybe this one will be too eventually.

Handsoff: Tell your uncle, MORE SNOW tonight. He's more than welcome back so he can help shovel us out.

Alenor: I can tell you that Schilling really does care for Mia. But not for her friendships.

TheTrouble: Not sure about….what?

And I want to note that I was sexually harassed on the train today by an old man pretending to pick up a dime while my eyes were closed. Let's just say he got a swift kick to his foot. Arg Old men suck

Oh yeah, have I ever mentioned that I don't own anything of this? You know, except for Manny, Orlando, Kevin, Schilling, Huck and Napoleon and Sarah Jane? Yeah. I so own them. And future new characters who shall be named later (well, revealed more like it). ANd I don't own any songs that appear in this story. I'll try to remember to say who they belong to. But remember, I dont' own anything except what I have already said. Meg Cabot owns.


For some reason I made sure Mia and Sarah Jane did not cross paths. Mia belonged to one world and Sarah Jane to another. Mia was my goofball whacko side. Sarah Jane was my serious grown up side. I needed to be more grown up. But when Kevin finally met her at the movie rental place in December he pointed out why the two really hadn't met yet. And it had nothing to do with world's colliding..

"That's the girl you've been dating?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied as she went to search for Rushmore. "Prettyhot huh?"

"You are joking, right?" he asked, holding back laughter.

"What?" I snapped. "She is hot-"

"Well, I wouldn't be able to tell."

"Huh? You, of all men, can appreciate a good looking woman. Look at her ass-"

"Not when she looks like that. Not when she looks like the girl I consider a little sister. You don't see it?" he asked.

"See what?" I asked, looking back at my new girlfriend as she read the description of the movie. He didn't have a little sister.

"You don't notice a small resemblance to anyone? Like our guitarist, for example?"

"Nuh-uh," I said, feeling a bit relieved. "No way."

"Imagine Mia with longer hair," he countered. "And wearing her glasses."

I did this mentally. "Holy shit." Okay. Time to hyperventilate. Here I am all happy about maybe moving past Mia. Thinking Wow, I've found this great girl who is the opposite of Mia. I can grow up and move on from that thing and have a healthy relationship with a woman. Then WHAM! Kevin shows me how terribly wrong I have been. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

"Yeah. Well, good luck with all that. I need to go into the adult section. My datecancelled tonight."

I shook my head, still in a daze. Normally I would have said something smart alecky and been all "What your left hand said no dice?". But I settled for, "I'll see you later."


"It's nice to finally meet one of your friends," she said as we returned to her dorm.

"Yeah," I replied. I couldn't look at her.

"I was starting to think they didn't really exist beyond the stage."

"Ha," I said without emotion.

"What's wrong?" she asked as we stopped in front of her door. "Don't worry, Mary is out tonight. We won't be bothering her. I was thinking maybe we could-"

"Oh my gosh! Stop!" I heard Mia's voice giggle from around the corner. I instinctively jumped into protective mode.

No. This cannot be happening to me. I can not deal with seeing Mia right now.

"Hey," Schilling said putting Mia down.

"Michael? What are you doing here?"

"This is Sarah Jane," I mumbled. I wonder if she'll notice the resemblance. Hell, I didn't, but she would. It was her face afterall.

"Sarah…Oh. Hi," Mia said warmly. It was her fake warm voice. She taught me how to make it sound real. You just smile and no matter what your voice sounds happy and comforting. We joked that we would use it when the band got big and I had to be sweet to the ugly fans. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you." Ah hell. She was doing this on purpose. Driving me insane. I hadn't talked about Sarah Jane with Mia. That was part of my separate world strategy. They weren't supposed to know about one another. I wasn't cheating necessarily, but whatever. I'm done thinking.

"Um…"

"This is Mia."

She looked a bit surprised. "Oh, hi. I've heard about you too. I understand you play the guitar in the band?"

"Yeah."

The four of us stood awkwardly in the hallway. "Okay, we're gonna go watch a movie," Sarah Jane said pulling me toward her room.

"Oh? What movie?" Mia asked curiously.

"Rushmore," I replied.

"You've seen that a million times though," she replied.

"Who says we'll be watching it?" I teased.

Sarah Jane hit me playfully. "You're so bad...Okay, nice meeting you, Mia."

We laid back on her bed as the opening credits started to roll. "I hadn't realized she was so…"

"So what?" I asked defensively.

"Pretty," she decided finally.

"She's Mia," I replied. Understatement of the year.

"She looks familiar," she said thoughtfully.

"She's been in the news," I said quickly. "She's the princess of Genovia." Fuck. In my need to hide the fact that they looked alike I told Mia's idenity. Mia hated people knowing who she was. She didn't care if they found out on their own. But she liked people getting to know her for her.

"Nuh uh. That's not even a country."

I jumped up and hit the light and went to her roommate's map of the world (she's a geography minor). "Right here."

"That's smaller than Rhode Island," she argued. "Why on earth would they have a princess?"

"Because it was land given to her ancestress by the King of Italy or something."

She studied my expression. "What, are you trying to get me jealous or-"

"Look it up online then," I replied easily. "Didn't you notice the big bulky guy standing about ten feet away from us?"

She was already typing in the search. "What guy?"

"The big white bald guy. That's Lars, her bodyguard."

"She has a bodyguard?"

"Why the hell would I make this up?" I snapped.

"Hey, you are in this picture," she said, clicking on a shot from Mia's sixteenth birthday party. I had gone as her escort since she and Napoleon had gone onto their second break up.

"See, I don't lie."

"You dated her?" she asked skeptically.

I explained the whole boyfriend breaking up thing to her, but she still did not look totally pleased. "I got to meet Lindsey Lohan," I said weakly.

"Oh. My. God! Michael! You met Lindsey Lohan? What was she wearing? Who was she with?"

"Sarah," I said louder than expected, "that was almost two years ago. How am I supposed to remember?" Plus, I was totally focused on being Mia's date. Getting to hold her arm as we mingled with all the young celebrities that she never had met before. Her grandmother had invited them. And, she looked hot that night. Who am I kidding? She always did.

"She's a princess? What the hell? Why didn't you tell me before tonight? I sounded like a total moron out there!"

"She's just Mia," I said softly. "She doesn't care about propriety at all. She's a goober."


MIA:

Nice to finally meet this girl he's been sneaking off to meet after our rehearsals and shows. Schilling and I were lying on his bed watching The Goonies and I kept hearing the bed next door moving.Walls are thin.

Oh. My. God. They were doing it. They were going at it. I stared at the wall and could almost imagine what was going on. He'd ever so slowly remove his pants as her stupid glasses steamed up at the sight of his abs. Then he'd slowly put his hand up her shirt.

And then I heard her yell, "Oh. My. God! Michael!". I closed my eyes and remembered the last time I wanted to scream that but didn't.

Ah hell. I suddenly threw myself on top of Schilling and started kissing him like crazy. Not caring if the bed hitting the wall was heard next door. Hell, I hoped it was.

"Mmm," he said with a grin. "What's this about?"

I jumped off the bed. "Nothing. Never mind. I have to leave. Lars must be exhausted."

"Stay tonight then," he offered.

"No. Mom would flip. I gotta go."

I opened the door and turned. I immediately hit Michael. "Oh, hi."

"Hi."

"Where you going?" I asked.

"Home. You?"

"Home."

We stared at one another and then started toward the door together.


"She seemed…nice," I said as we went into his bedroom. It was tradition now. We always had our secret co-ed sleepovers together. No one had found us out yet.

"She is. Really sweet."

"You love her?" I asked, falling into his bed. I cuddled into his covers.

"Mia," he said, sounding strangled. Hekicked off his pants and climbed in next to me. "Here, put on theseboxers," he said. "I won't look."

I changed under the covers. Why are we so shyabout this-oh, the absence of alcohol.

"So...do you?" I asked when he came closer to me.

"God, I only met her a month ago or so. It takes time to fall in love."

"Oh?" I asked, taking my place beside him in his bed.

He jumped up and shut off the lights. "Yeah. Years maybe."

"Years?" I said laughing.

"Yeah. It's not something you explain," he continued, rubbing his thumb against my hand. "It's just…something. And you know when the timing is right."

"Timing?" I half asked. "Yeah."

"And sometimes," he said, as if he were in a soliloquy, "Sometimes you just have to wait it out and see if the love is the type of love you want to risk everything important in the world for."

Somehow I began to realize he wasn't necessarily talking in generalities.

"You love Schilling?"

"No," I admitted hoarsely. Christ's bicycles….was he….no…totally not….. "We haven't really discussed how far we'd like this to go."

"Oh."

"What do you think love is?" I asked bravely. "I mean…how would one know if a certain boy was in love?"

"What?" he asked with laughter in his eyes. To him I was probably just being a silly high school girl. "Why, are you curious about Schilling?"

"Come on Michael. Spill," I said, avoiding answering him. "I've said what I thought of it. What about you? How do you know?"

Our noses were touching one another. Our eyes were staring right into one another. We were most definately playing with fire here. For a long time he didn't say anything, but that was okay. I didn't feel uncomfortable. It never was uncomfortable with him around. Just….quiet. "It's simple," he whispered. "You just know it. You can't explain it really. You just see the person and you just become all a twitter around them."

"All a twitter?" I teased, rubbing his two days worth of growth on his face. I liked the fuzzy feel. I'm a dork, but I do. Schilling shaves every morning before classes, and does a quick once over anytime he sees me. I get baby bottom cheeks. Not manly man ones.

"Yeah. You can't think straight. You do dumb things."

"Like?"

"Sing stupid love songs," he said with a goofy grin. One of remembrance. "And forget about hating public displays of affection. And watch the stupid movies that she loves just because you want to see how she crinkles her nose. And ignore the cheesiness factor because you know it'd hurt her feelings."

"Is that what you did?" I asked carefully.

"Huh?"

"For Serena?"

"Oh. Her. No. I don't really think I loved her. I think I loved what she represented."

"Which was…."

"Mia," he replied in that same strangled voice from moments before, "I don't wanna talk right now. Can't we just sleep?"

Damn. I wouldn't be getting any more answers tonight. Just when I thought I had a lead.

Wait. No. Scratch that. I have a boyfriend. That I love and adore and was making out with only a mere two hours ago. Yes. He is the one I'm supposed to be with.


"You look beautiful," Schilling said kissing my cheek. It was the night before he was going back to Wisconsin for Christmas break and he was taking me out for a 'finals are over and they are my bitches' dinner.

"Thanks," I said softly.

"Mia, I'm going to miss you so much," he said, taking my hand.

"I'm gonna miss you too," I said sincerely. I did really like him a lot. And he kept my mind off of Michael. Okay, so there was that one night that I let in on my weakness. No biggie though. It's terrible how he eeks his way into all my dates.

"Mia, I want you to know….um…."

Crap. He's dumping me. He must be. It wouldn't be as bad if Michael was single. But he isn't. He has Miss Priss (as Schilling calls her)."What?" I said bravely. "You can tell me."

"I'm in love with you."

Oh. He's just in- whoa. "Oh. Um, thank you very much," I said after a few minutes.

He laughed, "It's okay. You don't have to know right now. I just wanted you to know that before I left."

"Okay."

Awkward much?

We went back to his dorm, where his cable was out (cancelled due to his being in WISCONSIN for a month), and watched a little bit of Hope Floats. "I can't believe you own this," I teased, cuddling up to him in his bed. His roommate had gone back to Jersey that afternoon. He must love me. He was watching a cheesy romantic movie and not making fun of it.

"I read in Young Royal that you liked it."

I giggled, "Oh lordy."

We started kissing. And you can guess. I am just…erg, why am I becoming a skank? "I should go back home," I said softly, afterwards.

"Want me to walk you back?" he asked, kissing my neck as I put my necklace back on.

"Nah. Lars can," I replied. "But I'll call you the day after Christmas, okay?"

"Yeah. Good luck over in Genovia baby," he said, still kissing me. I didn't want him to though. I didn't want him to be telling me that he loved me. I didn't want him to love me. More importantly, I didn't want to love him.


I didn't go home though. I told Lars that Lilly was expecting me at her apartment but might be asleep. So I climbed up what he thought was her fire escape. Yes. All sixteen floors. Luckily I was wearing comfortable clothes. Jeans, Docs, bulky winter coat.

I knocked on his window.

"Hey," he said pulling me in. "What are you doing?"

I considered kissing him. "Need some sleep," I replied, peeling off my clothes and looking for some shorts. He tossed some to me.

"Okay."

"Did I wake you?"

He shook his head, "Let's go to sleep."

I left really early. I had no idea why I went to him almost every night. I just wanted to wake up next to him. To pretend that we were supposed to be doing that.


I went to Genovia and was bored out of my mind. Grandmere made me get a manicure and cleared up the blisters from my guitar. "You mustant seeAndrew again with your hands like that," she explained.

"I have a boyfriend," I replied. "Schilling, remember?"

"Right. Right. But you are a public figure darling. You must make appearances."

Then I had to go to the annual Holiday Ball that takes place in the Palace and is when the Advent Calendar is revealed (even though Advent starts like a gazillion days—okay, three weeks, before).

"You look stunning," Lord NicholasDevareux said kissing my gloved hand. I hate this guy. For generations, according to my dad, his family has been trying to marry into my own so they could be royalty. My dad said he used to date this guy's mom 'back in the day', but he never let it go further than heavy petting. Thanks for the imagery, Dad. Really. I'll forever think of that when I'm making out with my boyfriend or boy friend. No. No more making out with that boy. None of it.

"What's wrong? Why are you shaking your head?" he asked with a smirk. He probably thought I was picturing a lifetime of happiness with him starting at this ball.

Everything about him made me squeamish. Maybe it was the five feet of hair he had. Way too much gel. And those eyes. Piercing blue eyes. I hate them. I'd rather deep brown any day. "Uh, thank you very much," I said finally, trying to remember my princess training.

"Care for a dance?"

I glanced over at my father. C'mon Dad. Step in and say no! Do not dare touch my darling daughter you big haired scoundrel!

"Oh that would be wonderful," my father replied for me. "Go along now," he said looking pointedly at me.

Oh the things I do for my country. I better at least get my picture on a postage stamp for this.

"So I am going to be graduating this year from Oxford," Nicholas drabbled on.

I better tell my dad that he will need to donate more than two hundred a day to Greenpeace. Let's go with five hundred. "Uh huh."

"And you?"

"Albert Einstein High School," I replied.

"What type of univer-"

"It's a high school," I emphasized. "I'm only seventeen."

"Oh dear," he said, backing off.

"What? Did that put a bump in your plans to woo me? To be crowned prince?" I hissed. "I've got news for you, Buster. I'm not getting married for a very, very long time. Not til I'm like, thirty." Okay, Grandmere might not like that, but whatever. He didn't know that. I highly doubt my mom would want me to marry young. And I care more about her thoughts than anyone else's.

But say if a handsome peat bogged young man came up to me then we'd have a totally different—no. I'd never marry Michael. He's too…moody. And I have moods of my own. We'd argue too much and then there'd be all sorts of—shit. How did he eek into this? Okay, no more Michael tonight.


I was left alone with this boy Andrew that I talked to at these events. Over the summer we had forged a bond over the hatred of these formal, stuffy things. We had snuck off during the summer to watch a rugby match instead of attending a tea for my aunt's birthday. "He's so…."

"Dorky?" I supplied, looking at Lord Nicholas oogling my third cousin Sandra.

"Desperate."

I laughed, "Aren't we all a bit desperate?"

He shrugged, "Not I, dear Princess. Not I."

I gave him a look. "No?"

"No. Not a bit. I have a girlfriend. Alyssa."

"As in Lady Alyssa who is standing right over there with my grandmother?"

"Yes. You see…your grandmother has it in mind that you and I will court and eventually marry. She thinks that you and I would make such a lovely pair. So she's been keeping Alyssa away from me tonight. She's seen us together at other events this season."

"Season?" I teased. "I see. She's very pretty Andrew. Five points to you."

"Points? Lord, you are American."

"You are British. I believe we kicked your ass in the Revolution." I loved our stupid history banter. And teasing his British-ness. He loved teasing how I am the stereotypical American teenager.

He waved off my comments. "Whatever," he said imitating me.

"Alyssa knows that you and I are just pals, right?" I asked. "That I would…you would never…"

"Of course," he said patting my shoulder in a friendly way. "I already told her my intentions."

I raised an eyebrow. "See what I miss in America? All the juicy gossip!"
"Oh please!" he replied, "Apparently you have missed your photograph's in the tabs over here in Europe."

"Tabs?"

"The London Sun….tabloids."

"Oh…wait, what?"

"Just innocent pictures of you with your friends after you do your little shows. And of you and that cad who stole you away from me."

I rolled my eyes. This past summer I had been linked to Andrew simply because we were friends. "Schilling…."

"What are you thinking about the man?"

"He's hardly a man," I replied, accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter.

"I don't want details."

"No, I mean…he lives off of his parents. I can't really respect a man like that."

"You do too."

"Ah, but I do not intend to forever. Plus, I have to live off my family. I'm going to be the crowned princess of the country. It's part of the job description. But before all that," I whispered, pulling him into a corner. "I'm going to have a career. No help from my family. Maybe I'll run off to a commune."

"No. Not that," he teased. "They won't let you shave or shower."

I laughed easily and walked away from him so we were in the public eye again. Being alone too long at one of these things would bring suspicion. "I will always shave, no problem there."

"Not shower?"

"I gave that up," I joked.

"I though I smelled something."

He entertained me for the rest of the evening and shared all of his dances with me since Grandmere had paired Alyssa off with Prince Rene.


I went on the new DSL that night from my room. Just to see if Lilly was around so I could tell her that her plans to woo Andrew were banished. Seriously. I was really tired and only wanted to talk to her. Then I'd go to bed.

Glsoh2o:Hey Trixie

Wrong Moscovitz.

PricSLeia: Hey Fluffy. How is NYC?

Glsoh20: BORING. When u coming back?

AHHH! He wants me back there!

Glsoh20: We wanted to do that demo, remember?

Ah hell. Just for the band.

PricSLeia: The 30th. Has Lilly said anything for NYE?

Glsoh20: not to me. Is Sch. Going to be back?

PricSLeia: No. What about SJ?

A few minutes later

Glsoh20: That's too bad. Who to kiss at midnight? (no, she's home for the break)

He was being flirty. It couldn't hurt to flirt when there was a whole ocean between us. And WAHOOOO! No Sarah Jane!

PricSLeia: Who knows? I'm accepting applications

Glsoh20: I have some on the job experience

I was trying to figure out what he was saying. If he still liked me. But no. He'd hurt me. He had that Sarah Jane now.

PricSLeia: We'll see about that. I gotta go. I have breakfast with dad in the AM. He wants to 'bond' with me.

Glsoh20: I like your dad. He's nice.

PricSLeia :I happen to like nice men.

Glsoh20: I'm nice.

GLSOH20 HAS LOGGED OFF