Sunday, July 27, 2008

Chapter One: you will return to me

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter One: you will return to me

A/N: Since you guys wanted a sequel to The Crackhead Chronicles, here it is (and it is, obviously, the prequel to my first story, Crackhead in Love)! Enjoy and hopefully you’ll review with constructive criticism and comments (and hopefully praise…P)!

Monday, October 20, 7:45 a.m.

You know what’s even worse than public displays of affection?

Seeing your parents being all cuddly and affectionate. Seriously. I mean, I can usually tolerate my parents when they’re normal but this morning, they started acting all weird, kissing and hugging each other every few moments. There are some things seriously wrong in my life:

My parents are overly affectionate with each other.

I have a highly annoying, nosy sister.

I’m not exactly the most social person you could meet.

And…oh yeah, I’m in love with my little sister’s best friend. Oh, and she also happens to be the Princess of Genovia.

Yes, that’s right: she’s a princess.

Anyway, as if her being a princess isn’t hard enough, she’s also the most amazing girl I know. What would she ever see in me, Michael Moscovitz? Nothing. But we did do all of that slow-dancing at the Cultural Diversity Dance two days ago and we talked for the longest time.

Like I wrote before, Saturday was the best night of my life. Nothing can really top that.

Except, of course, the day Mia tells me she loves me. But at this rate, that’ll be never.

She liked Josh Richter and I have nothing in common with him. I’m not popular, athletic (well, I do take a run twice a week but I don’t play organized sports), or have almost every girl at Albert Einstein High School swooning over me. Though, I guess in the long run that’s for the better.

Because I only want one girl swooning over me. No, forget that. I don’t want her swooning over me.

I want her to love me.

I need her to love me.

I mean, she liked Josh Richter.

Why can’t she love me?

Monday, October 20, Homeroom

M—You and "Princess Amelia" were looking pretty…friendly Saturday night. Give Felix all of the details, man! –F

F—There’s nothing to…give. Mia’s just my little sister’s best friend. And, yeah, sure, my friend too. Nothing else.

Dude, there was definitely more than "friendliness" happening there. You looked like you…were in love with her or something. Be honest.

I am. Being honest, I mean. In love with Mia? That’s as likely as you being in love with…Lilly!

Ha ha. But seriously, you have a thing for her, don’t you? Just admit it!

No! She’s just a friend. Only a friend.

Monday, October 20, English Lit

"Okay, class. Now that I’ve had the chance to know you in class, I’d like you to fill me in on your life outside of class. What are some important details that define you as a person?" Well, at least Mrs. Castelli isn’t making us make our own journals, like we had to do in freshman year. But God knows I lied my way through that journal.

Sex? Four times a day!

Okay, kidding about that part but do the English teachers honestly expect us to tell them about everything happening in our personal lives?

Plus, the fact sheet she gave us to fill out is the exact same one we had to fill out as freshmen.

Seniors and freshmen? They’re not the same!

NAME: Michael Robert Moscovitz

Known to peers as Michael. NEVER Mike, Mikey, M & M, etc.

AGE: Sixteen—seventeen in January

YR IN SCHOOL: Senior, or 12th if you want to get all specific

SEX: Male…I think. Okay, little joke, Sharon. But, I’m a male. Seriously.

DESCRIPTION:

Six feet, one inch

Floppy, sort of curly, dark brown hair

Dark brown eyes

Pale, pale skin

Medium build (not Sid Vicious thin but not Fabio muscular either…Thank God)

MOTHER: Elaine Moscovitz

OCCUPATION: Psychoanalyst/Psychologist

FATHER: Landon Moscovitz

OCCUPATION: Psychoanalyst/Psychologist

PARENTS’ MARITAL STATUS: Married. Happily, thank you very much (I can only testify for their positively gruesome affection this morning at breakfast)

PETS: One Sheltie, named Pavlov. He is, obviously, named after the Russian scientist who used dogs and bells to prove there was such a thing as conditioned response and treatment.

BEST FRIEND: Best friend? Felix Matthews, I guess. We’ve been best friends since third grade, ever since Felix gave Josh Richter a bloody nose for taking my chocolate pudding. Too bad that Josh managed to kick Felix in the nether region before they were both suspended.

GIRLFRIEND: I am currently unattached (in simpler terms, I am single…for the time being)

ADDRESS: An apartment on Fifth Avenue. I won’t go into the details too much. The apartment is fairly large and is in the biggest apartment building on Fifth Avenue. During winter break, my family usually stays at my grandparents’ retirement home, which is in Florida.

I have a truly sad life.

Still Monday, G & T

"Oh, my God! Is there something about your date with Josh Richter that you didn’t tell me?" Lilly exclaimed loudly, staring at the screen of Mia’s computer. I was curious as to what Lilly thought had happened so I listened in. Well, it wasn’t exactly hard, to be honest. I could’ve heard Lilly from a mile away.

"Oh, my God, Mia, why didn’t you tell me?"

"I-I’m doing an extra-credit report for Biology," Mia said in a pretty unconvincing tone. Maybe it helps that her nostrils flare whenever she lies. Yes, I noticed that ages ago. And she thinks she’s such a great liar too.

Mia said something about alfalfa sprouts but Lilly just kept on rambling on about Mia and Josh. Then, the word "pregnant" came out of Lilly’s mouth and my eyes widened.

Is Mia PREGNANT!?

With Josh Richter’s baby?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

So, I was just listening in instead of working on Crackhead, my webzine. I mean, if the girl that I’m in love with is pregnant with another guy’s baby, OF COURSE I’M GOING TO LISTEN IN!! It’s only natural, anyway.

No, okay, I don’t think she’s pregnant. And especially not with that bastard’s baby.

Mia Richter. Amelia Richter. No, Amelia Moscovitz. Mia Moscovitz.

Well, technically if we get married, I’ll have to take her last name.

Michael Renaldo…Not Thermopolis.

But who even said we’re getting married?

I mean, that’ll be in a decade. Or maybe not.

We may never get together.

Yes, optimistic thoughts, Moscovitz.

Still Monday, 11 p.m.

Isn’t it a coincidence that right when I’m thinking about Mia, she logs on?

Well, no, not really. Because I always am. Thinking about her, I mean.

CracKing: What was with you today? It was like you were off in this whole other world or something.

Hopefully, Mia will be able to look past this façade.

FtLouie: I don’t have the slightest idea what you are talking about. Nothing is wrong with me. I’m totally fine.

Mia is such a liar. But I love her anyway.

CracKing: Well, I had the impression that you didn’t hear a word that I said about negative slopes.

FtLouie: I heard everything you said about negative slopes. Given slope m, +y-intercept (0,b) equation y+mx+b Slope-intercept.

Yes, I am so sure, Mia.

CracKing: WHAT??

FtLouie: Isn’t that right?

CracKing: Did you copy that out of the back of the book?

And then she logged off without responding.

So I took that as a definite yes.

Still Monday, 12:15 a.m.

Mia,

Why can’t you see?

My love for you

Is strong and free

And this poem of mine

Really, really sucks

Oh yeah…

A/N: What did you think of this chapter? Please review! )

Chapter Two: the butterflies are passive/aggressive

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter Two: the butterflies are passive/aggressive

A/N: I’m trying my best to sound like Michael and I guess he sounds like a teenage girl because I’m a teenage girl (so surprising, right?). I’ll do my best to sound more…masculine, I suppose.

Tuesday, October 21, G & T

Mia was sick today.

She looked perfectly fine and healthy yesterday, except for, you know, the fact that Lilly thought that she might be pregnant. And by Josh Richter, no less. I’m thinking of making her a card or sending her a Get Well e-mail or something. I wonder when she’ll be back at school…

Felix decided to sit with the Computer Club during lunch today. He usually sits alone, listening to Ben Kweller or The Vines. Truth be told, I would do the same if it wasn’t absolutely necessary to sit with my fellow Computer Club members during lunch and whenever else possible. (Judith Gershner’s words, not mine.)

"Hey, Felix," I said. "What’s up?" I noticed that Felix had never sat at our table before…well, ever. So why was he now? He had his Walkman in one hand and a hamburger in the other.

"So. Your girlfriend’s sick, huh?" This, I noticed, sparked Judith’s interest.

"Felix, she’s not my girlfriend," I insisted, not wanting to talk about Mia in front of the other Computer Club members. Judith glued her eyes to my face after I said this. She obviously wanted to hear more. Well, I wasn’t going to give her anymore because there was no more to say.

"Dude, Cultural Diversity Dance," Felix said, as if this answered everything. I wonder why he even went to the dance. He had a girlfriend, sure. But he and Lizzy were really not the types to get dressed up, pose for cheesy pictures, and then dance. And I’ve seen Felix move.

It is not pretty.

But, then again, I’m not much of one for dances either, am I? Especially when they include fast dances, which are lame. So incredibly lame. Slow dancing is all right; it’s basically just picking up your feet every few seconds and bobbing your head, I suppose. Or swaying it, anyway.

"Yes, we are just friends though," I said. "I thought we had cleared that up."

"Yeah, whatever. You and Mia are definitely not ‘just friends’," Felix said, rising from the bench. He walked back to where he normally sat, putting his headphones back onto his ears. Why does Felix care so much about whether Mia and I are more than friends anyway? Honestly.

"So, you and Mia? Isn’t she the Princess?" Judith said, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"Yeah, she’s the Princess," I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. I stabbed my fruit cup with my fork.

"And you guys are going out?" Judith said with what I swear was a trace of disappointment.

"No, we’re not going out."

"Okay. Sure."

WHY IS NO ONE BELIEVING ME?!

"Wait, you went to the Cultural Diversity Dance? I thought we had all agreed to boy—"

"Wow, would you look at the time? I’ve got to…uh, be somewhere else."

And I bolted.

Later Tuesday, French

"Did you hear that Josh Richter and Lana Weinberger got back together?"

"Yes, Suzanne, I did hear. Hasn’t everyone?" I said to my French partner, Suzanne Chang. Suzanne’s also a member of the Computer Club, like me. Why do people insist on sharing the latest gossip with me? Do I give off some sort of gossipy aura that makes it appear like I care about how Cindy Caldwell’s new haircut looks atrocious, or something?

"Well. Yes. But still, it’s a record. One week. Amazing, right?" Suzanne said sarcastically. Suzanne is the only female member of the Computer Club that I can tolerate for long amounts of time. (Granted, there are only two girls in the Computer Club, Suzanne and Judith.) Well, Judith I can take in limited dosages. It’s not that she’s not a good friend; she’s just one of those people that can drive you crazy if you spend too much time hanging out with her.

"Oh, yes, especially for Albert Einstein’s supreme power couple."

"En francais, s’il vous plait," Madame Luxe chirped. (This conversation, though mostly in English, was recorded to the best of my knowledge. Which, I fear, is currently lacking). Then, Suzanne mumbled something that I couldn’t make out.

"Comment?"

"Uh…" Suzanne, though in Advanced French (French IIII), has failed to retain any of the language over the last three and a half years at Albert Einstein.

"J’ai dit, ‘What?’" I whispered.

"I knew that," Suzanne said, a half-smile on her face.

"You really haven’t been learning much in this class, have you?"

"Pfuit. Maybe I should’ve taken Deustch class. Or Spanish." Suzanne and I really have the most random, meaningless conversations whenever we have a class together, which is basically only French and Health & Safety. We have a lot of things in common, like our tastes in music and dislike of conformity.

"So, I heard that you and Mia are a couple."

"Je souhaite!" I whispered, knowing that Suzanne wouldn’t know what I had said.

I wish.

Wednesday, October 22

TOP TEN THINGS I HAVE LEARNED ABOUT MIA FROM LILLY

(Believe it or not, younger sisters can be helpful even when they don’t know that their older brother is in love with their best friend of nine years)

Ten—She loves Fat Louie (her cat) more than anyone or anything in the world. I’ll be having some tough competition, I guess. Ha ha.

Nine—She has a Backstreet Boys calendar in her bathroom. And all of their CDs. If we get together, I will hopefully be able to introduce her to less…mainstream (a.k.a. bad) music.

Eight—Mia knows that I once got teary-eyed over an old episode of Seventh Heaven (I was eleven years old, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!)

Seven—There once was a time when Mia would’ve chosen Josh Richter as her postnuclear Armageddon life-mate instead of me (Okay, more like last week, before the dance.)

Six—(And this was just in passing, as I heard them talking about it…yes, I eavesdropped. Sue me.) Mia has a serious obsession with her…lack of chest area. Not that I’ve ever looked…Yes. Right.

Five—Mia knows how I used to be in love with Britney Spears. And, yes, I had her first CD. I burned it a long, long time ago though, I assure you (Plus, Mia has her Backstreet Boys thing…so, we’re even.)

Four—Her nostrils flare when she lies.

Three—(And I’ve witnessed this numerous times.) Mia appears to have an unhealthy obsession with Lifetime and the Lifetime Movie Channel.

Two—She’s never kissed a boy, except for Josh Richter. (Sadly, yes, but that wasn’t of her own free will.)

One—Mia was never in love with him.

A/N: I’m sorry, but this story is turning out so, so badly. / Please review anyway. Constructive criticism is heavily needed.

Chapter Three: I’d Love to Love You

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter Three: I’d Love to Love You

A/N: Okay, I admit it: Some of your reviews made me giggle. Giggle? Yes, giggle. All of you reviewers are so nice and gorgeous and I love you all! (Insert giggle) Okay, just wanted to say thank you for making me smile every time I open my mailbox and see a new review. D Oh, and thanks for not thinking it sucks too badly. Ha ha.

Thursday, October 23

Okay, I sent her a get-well message. It took me about fifteen minutes to make it. (What can I say? I work fast…okay, perverted thoughts.) I just hope that she likes it. It shows a cat that’s supposed to be Fat Louie doing a little tap dance. And…I signed it "Love, Michael."

Yes. Love. Because it’s true, isn’t it?

I’m so in love with Mia that it’s gotten rather pathetic.

I smile at the thought of her. I feel my face grow hot whenever she looks at me. I feel my heart pounding extra hard every time my hand touches her when I grab for her pencil.

It’s so nice to be in love. Even though, you know, it might be unrequited.

But I’m hoping not.

Oh, I just got an Instant Message from Felix.

ALT3R3GO: Dude, we broke up.

CracKing: What? You and Lizzy?

ALT3R3GO: No, no. The band.

CracKing: Wow. Really? Why?

ALT3R3GO: Jimmy says that his mom is making him quit the band because he’s been failing Deustch. And there’s no other decent guitar player in school.

Um, I can play the guitar pretty well. Except, of course, only Mia knows about that.

CracKing: Oh. That really sucks.

ALT3R3GO: You’re telling me.

And then he logged off. Felix isn’t much for greetings or saying goodbye, I suppose. Maybe I could offer to play in his band. Well, actually, I’m hoping to keep this whole instrument-playing thing a secret. Plus, I might want to start my own band in the near future.

Boris has been playing some new music on his violin. Apparently, it’s Bartok. I haven’t passed out yet but I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time…It’s not that Boris is bad at playing the violin (on the contrary, he’s amazing), but he just chooses the most annoying pieces to play.

I was flipping through The Atom, the school newspaper, when I came across this article:

Frisson and Fruit Flies: An Interview with Judith Gershner

By Melanie Greenbaum

Recently, I was able to conduct an interview with Judith Gershner cloner of fruit flies (she did this and won last year’s science fair). This is a very exclusive interview and can only be found in The Atom.

The Atom: Hello, Judith Gershner. Thank you for doing this interview with us at The Atom.

Judith Gershner: Oh, um, no problem. I’m happy to oblige.

TA: So, I understand that you cloned fruit flies last year for the Albert Einstein High School Annual Biomedical Technology Fair. How is this done, exactly?

JG: Well, it’s a rather difficult process. First, you have to—

TA: Is it true that you have a crush on a certain fellow Computer Club member of yours?

JG: W-What? Wait, I thought this interview was supposed to be purely about sci—

TA: Please just answer the question, Judith.

JG: Well, okay, fine. The answer is (pause) no.

TA: I noticed you paused before you answered. So, I am assuming that you are not being entirely truthful.

JG: I, uh, have to go now.

Very productive, huh?

Friday, October 24, Homeroom

MIA IS BETTER!

I was happy to learn this when Mia and Lars rode over in Mia’s limo. Lilly said that she thought it might be…okay if I came along, though she didn’t look very happy at the fact that her older brother was tagging along. Hey, I did need a ride. I mean, I could’ve driven myself if I had a car (and if anyone in New York actually had a car).

I casually said hello and she said hi back. I was wondering if she was going to comment about the virtual card I made for her but she didn’t. Actually, at the breezy way she said hello, I was afraid that maybe she hadn’t even gotten the card. Oh, no. Mia probably thought the Love at the end of the letter was completely platonic. But…it wasn’t.

I asked her, in the limo, if she had seen Tuesday’s episode of Buffy. She smiled, nodded, and said that she did and what did I think of it. This started a rather heated discussion and it continued as we came out of the limo and headed into the school. I was so caught up in the conversation that I forgot to act all cool and debonair.

Ha ha. Like I could ever be cool or debonair.

I can hear Gwen Shayne murmuring to one of her equally snotty friends.

"Oh my God, did you hear about that party Reese is throwing?" Gwen said cattily. "Like, it’ll probably be a geekfest! I heard that there were going to be freshmen there. I mean, like, ew."

"Well, duh, Josh’s girlfriend is a freshman," Cindy Halter said just as nastily. "Oh my God, she thinks she’s so cool but if she wasn’t dating Josh, she’d just be another little freshman geek."

"Yeah! I know."

What has happened to society?

Friday, October 24, French

He…wouldn’t…stop…

Seriously. I had to go to the nurse’s office to ask for an ibuprofen. But she just said how that would be a violation of the school drug code. Ibuprofen. Is it really that dangerous? In the end, I trudged back to G & T and Mia gave me some of her codeine cough syrup, which cleared my headache right up.

Just before I left to go to the nurse’s office, Mia started talking about…mail.

Lilly was rambling on about her stupid show, Lilly Tells It Like It Is. Mia asked her if she was still receiving a lot of fan mail from her stalker/obsessed foot-fetish fan, Norman. Then, Mia mentioned that she had received some very intriguing mail lately. Then, without looking up from my keyboard, I think she was looking at me.

But I wasn’t exactly sure.

I hope she was though.

Later Friday

I am trying to do my best here.

Why, Sharon, WHY? Why must you give us innocent (snort) seniors such cruel, personal assignments?

Why does she want to know my favorite shoe brand? She gave up a list of questions she wants us to answer.

So, I guess I’ll just have to answer them.

Even if I really, really don’t want to.

Damn you, Sharon. Or maybe you’re not supposed to spite your teachers in your journal.

Who knows?

Favorite Color: Blue. And red. And black. You know, there are just so many, I can just pick one. I hope that’s okay, Sharon.

Favorite Fruit and Vegetable: Favorite fruit? Strawberries, I guess. And my favorite vegetable? Well, I guess I like carrots.

Favorite Movie: All of the Star Wars movies. Okay, I can’t just pick one for this either. They’re just all so good.

Favorite Musical Genre: Indie and rock, I suppose. Very into Adam Green, Bright Eyes, BK, (Ben Kweller), The Thrills, The Shins, The Stills, The Moldy Peaches, The Beatles (I was raised on them…as any good child was), Azure Ray, Ramones, Rooney…and well, just a lot of different bands.

Favorite Book: Wow. Okay, I’ve read a lot of books in my sixteen years and yet again, I don’t have just one pick. I rather liked Catcher in the Rye. Lots and lots of curse words.

Favorite Food: Scones. No, pancakes, pizza, pasta. Just a lot of foods that start with "P."

Conformity, Yes or No? NO! I am totally against conformity, especially if you wish to conform to one of those mind sucking, garden bush waving, hair flipping demons. In other words, if you wish to become a cheerleader.

Favorite Actor: Harrison Ford

Favorite Actress: Sarah Michelle Gellar

Random Childhood Memory: I have many memories of pancakes and receiving kicks from my younger sister, Lilly. I wish not to delve any deeper into my personal history than that.

First Kiss: I am not at liberty to discuss that. Thank you very much.

Role Model/s: My parents, I suppose. We have instilled a "don’t ask, don’t tell" policy. It has worked out rather well for the last ten years.

A/N: Bad, bad, badness!

Chapter Four: now and again it seems worse than it is

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter Four: now and again it seems worse than it is

A/N: I am very, very pessimistic. But thank you all SOOOOOOOOO (okay, teeny moment) much for reviewing! Forty-one reviews for three chapters! squeal Haha.

Saturday, October 25, 12 p.m.

"So, Mia, Shameeka, and Tina are spending the night, honey?"

"Yeah," Lilly said, shoving a spoonful of Cap’n Crunch into her mouth.

Why must Mia be coming over the night that there’s a lecture about quasars at Columbia? I mean, they really do pick the worst timing to have sleep overs, so I can’t even leave my shirt off and pretend like I didn’t know they were there, watching Valley Girl or some other equally draining movie.

"Are you two going anywhere tonight?" Lilly asked, hopefully.

"Oh, no, honey," Mom said, smiling warmly. "Your father and I are staying in tonight. We’ll probably rent a movie and get some dim sum from Number One Noodle Son."

"Oh," Lilly said, obviously disappointed. "And you’re staying home too, like always?" She said this to me.

"No, actually, I’m going to a lecture about quasars over at Columbia," I said. "It’ll probably be a couple of hours."

"So exciting, Michael," Lilly said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. I rolled my eyes and left. I walked to my room and started working on next month’s issue of Crackhead.

I was busy at work on an article titled "Subliminal Messages: Mind-Controlling Messages through Music" when the phone rang. Trust me, I’m not much of a person to spend all day talking on the phone to who knows who so I didn’t exactly dive for the phone, hoping it was Anna Blaire, calling to fill me in with the latest gossip.

After a few moments more of ringing, I finally grunted and picked up the phone. We really need Caller ID, or something. It was Kenny Showalter.

Me: Hello?

Kenny: Uh, hi. Is Michael there?

Me: This is him.

Kenny: Oh, can I speak to Michael?

Me: (sounding slightly confused) This is Michael. Who is this?

Kenny: Oh. Um, sorry. This is…Kenny. You know. From the Computer Club.

Me: Kenny? Oh, hey, Kenny…what’s up?

Kenny: Judith wanted me to call all of the members and ask if they want to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show on Halloween night.

Me: (sounding happy—I love the Rocky Horror Picture Show) Really? Yeah, that sounds great.

Kenny: Okay. So, Judith said we should all invite friends, if we want to. I had this one girl in mind.

Me: Oh, really. Who?

Kenny: …Just this girl from my Biology class.

Me: Oh, okay. Who else besides me is coming?

Kenny: Uh, Judith, Suzanne, Shaun…you know, the whole Computer Club. Could you ask Lilly if she and Boris want to come?

Me: (hesitantly) Er, I guess so. Okay.

Kenny: Okay. Well, uh, see you on school Monday.

Me: Yeah. See you then. Bye.

Kenny: Bye.

Maybe I should ask Mia…

Okay, that was what I was thinking after Kenny asked me to come, seeing as I am the treasurer of the Computer Club after all. But would she want to come? Especially if I asked her? No, probably not. She might think that I’m trying to ask her out on a date or something…which I might be. But I could explain how it’s a group outing and how it’d be cool if she could come.

Yes. Good plan.

Saturday, October 25, 10 p.m.

Okay, so tonight wasn’t such a waste after all. Except, you know, for the fact that the lecture I had been planning to attend was canceled. I actually took the subway to Columbia and when I got there, there was this poster advertising the lecture. Then, in big red letters, was the word: CANCELED.

So, I basically went there for nothing. But still, it was nice just checking out the campus for a few seconds that I might attend (if I get accepted, that is…I applied early) soon. With a sigh, I walked back to the subway station and took the subway back again. Boring, if you ask me.

So, after I got back, I walked up to the apartment. I greeted my parents. They were surprised to see me back so early. I told them that the lecture had been canceled an headed for my room. I was walking by Lilly’s room (and, for some reason, the door was open) when I saw the girls (including Mia, I noticed) crowded around the window. Mia was holding something; a vegetable, I thought.

That’s when Mia dropped the thing she was holding out of the window. My eyes widened and I ran into Lilly’s room. What the hell was happening? Her friends seemed surprised to see me there, and I threw my arm around Mia’s waist and pulled her backward not go gently, I’m afraid.

"Are you guys stupid, or what?" I said, sounding angrier than I had intended. "Don’t you know, besides the fact that it’s a good way to kill someone, it’s also against the law to drop something out a window in New York City?" Couldn’t they think of something better to play? Like Jenga? Man, good times.

"Oh, Michael. Grow up. It was just a common garden vegetable," Lilly said in a disgusted voice. I felt myself growing angry. It was probably Lilly’s fault that Mia almost could’ve been spotted throwing the vegetable out of the window.

"I’m serious," I said. "If anyone saw Mia do that just now, she could be arrest." Mia’s face contorted into a look of utmost terror.

"No, she couldn’t," Lilly argued. "She’s a minor."

"She could still go to juvenile court," I insisted. Why can’t Lilly ever admit that I’m right and she’s wrong? "You’d better not be planning on airing that footage on your show." I added, indicating the camera she was holding.

Honestly, Lilly. How dense are you?

"I most certainly am."

"Well, you’d better edit out the parts that show Mia’s face."

Lilly looked at me as if I was some way underclass subordinate. "No way."

I took a breath and reluctantly let go of Mia’s waist.

"Lilly, everybody knows who Mia is. If you air that segment, it will be all over the news that the princess of Genovia was caught on tape dropping projectiles out the window of her friend’s high-rise apartment. Get a clue, will you?"

"Lilly, Michael’s right," said Mia’s friend, Tina Hakim Baba. "We better edit that part out. Mia doesn’t need any more publicity than she already has. Too right you are, Tina.

Lilly got up and walked over to the window. She started to lean out but I quickly jerked her back.

She really does need a clue. My God. Amateurs.

"Rule Number One," I said. "If you insist on dropping something out the window, never, ever check to see if anybody is standing down there, looking up. They will see you look out and figure out what apartment you are in. Then you will be blamed for dropping whatever it was. Because no one but the guilty part would look out under such circumstances."

I mean, I should know.

Hey, I have a… bad boy side. Seriously. I do.

"Wow, Michael," said another one of Mia and Lilly’s friends, Shameeka Taylor. "You sound like you’ve done this before." Well, that’s because I have.

"Let’s just say I used to have a very keen interest in experimenting with the earth’s gravitational pull."

I noticed, with delight, that Mia was beaming admirably at me. I smiled slightly in her direction and told them not to even think about dropping any more projectiles out of the window unless they wanted the Drs. Moscovitz to find out about their antics.

Mia has rather nice pajamas with little yellow ducks and pink rabbits.

A/N: You know what to do. D

Chapter Five: my princess of the whales

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter Five: my princess of the whales

Sunday, October 26

"Tune in tomorrow night to see Beverly Bellerive’s exclusive interview with America’s royal, Princess Mia!" I nearly choked on my pancakes when I heard that an hour ago. There have been commercials every five minutes, advertising an interview with Mia. When was this interview? Why didn’t Mia tell anyone anything?

And I know for a fact that Lilly wasn’t aware of this interview, because she spit out her Froot Loops (though my pancakes were heavily guarded…Thank God) and ran over to phone, to call Mia, I assumed. Then, she left the room so I couldn’t even hear the conversation.

I did hear Lilly screaming: "NO BIG DEAL?? You were interviewed by Beverly Bellerieve and it was NO BIG DEAL?? Don’t you realize that BEVERLY BELLERIEVE IS ONE OF AMERICA’S MOST POPULAR AND HARD-HITTING JOURNALISTS, and that she is my all-time ROLE MODEL and HERO??" Well, of course I knew that. All Lilly ever does besides bitch about school, yell at me, and film her show is OBSESS OVER BEVERLY FREAKING BELLERIEVE!

I personally don’t find Beverly that good at what she does. But I wouldn’t dream of telling Lilly because then she would kick me or something. And, trustme, you never want to be on the receiving end of one of her kicks, especially if it’s toward the nether region.

Then, when she came back into the kitchen, looking satisfied, she had the nerve to criticize the music that was blasting from my headphones. "Oh, my God. Who is that guy? His voice is so whiny. Turn it off!"

"Well, at least I don’t listen to the Backstreet Boys," I said scathingly, fully smirking. Lilly turned red and stomped off.

Well, at least the remark had done its job.

And, as my friend Trevor once said:

"Dude, Conor Oberst totally owns. He’s the mack pimp daddy of indie. But, those boy band dudes are damn hot. Man. That Justin Timberlake has one nice ass. I’d like to smack that booty. Hot damn."

Okay, he was being sarcastic.

I think.

Sunday, October 26, later

"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit."

I just went to Number One Noodle Son with Paul and Suzanne. Was it just me or did I detect some flirty vibes between those two? They sat next to each other when we finally found a booth and when I dropped one of my chopsticks, I went to pick it up and I noticed that their feet were sort of…playing with each other.

Well, I guess that it’s okay if my two good friends want to go out. But if they end up breaking up, things will really, really suck. But, I’m not saying that they’ll break up, but really, it’s sort of inevitable. Especially since they’re still young and all. Actually, they have a lot in common. I’m almost surprised that they didn’t get together before now.

Or maybe they did and they’ve been keeping it a secret from me this whole time.

But why would they keep their relationship a secret from me?

I mean, come on! I’m Michael. MichaelMoscovitz…computer geek. Like I would have anyone to tell.

So, we were all discussing how Thom Yorke’s voice seems to change on every Radiohead album and that somehow turned into a heated discussion about Conor Oberst and how Paul would turn gay for him (insert weird look here). Then, we were all sharing a big bowl of wonton soup when I see Mia enter the restaurant. I nearly choked on my roast pork as I watched her go up to the counter and pay for whatever she had ordered. Unfortunately, she didn’t see me and made a prompt departure.

Suzanne seemed to notice this and snickered as she whispered something into Paul’s ear.

I can only imagine she said something like: "Oh…My…God. Did you see that? Did you see that? Michael totally just choked on his roast pork. Well, that’s not the thing I’m pointing out. But, anyway, he noticed Lilly’s friend, Mia. Yes, the princess. No, she’s cool. Yeah. Yeah. I know! He totally likes her!"

Isn’t it obvious?

Monday, October 27, Health and P.E.

The whole school is literally buzzing about Mia’s interview with Beverly Bellerieve, which airs tonight. I really want to see it myself. But something weird happened on my way to Calculus class. Well, not weird, so to speak, but something involving Lana Weinberger.

After G & T, Mia, Lilly, and I were walking down the hall together since we were all going to classes that are across the hall from each other, when Lana Weinberger walked up to MIA AND ME, held up two of her fingers, and waggled them at us (Mia and me). She said, in her snobby voice, "Are you two going out?"

And I just knew that my face turned as red as a tomato. I was so flustered and surprised and just so…red. But I noticed that Mia had turned bright crimson, as well. Then my heart dropped, because she must’ve been embarrassed at the mere thought of going out with me. Then, Lilly totally snort laughed and said, "As if!" Then Lana and her "friends" started cackling. It was honestly so, so mortifying.

But I like the idea of us going out. Ha ha.

"Dude, you’re supposed to be writing about herpes, not babbling in your diary!" Felix hissed over at me, though playfully. I said, just as cattily, "Well, dude, first of all: It’s a journal, not a diary. And secondly, why the hell would I want to write about a STD?"

"Whatever, man," Felix said, returning to his essay about the joys of herpes. Fun times.

The Icelandic Whales

By Michael Moscovitz

Your euphonious voice

Fills my mind

With thoughts of utter ecstasy

Is it my fault?

Or are you the fool?

Can’t you see?

The whales call for you

They never look for me

There you go

Unrequited love is better than no love at all

The wind weeps softly

And maybe we’ll hear it

Someday

Your heart can’t fade away

Don’t let it fade away

My vegetarian princess of the whales

You search for what I never knew

You’re beautiful in every aspect

Every way

Maybe you’ll never see

All I ever wanted was to be

Chapter Six: she’s got something to say to me

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter Six: she’s got something to say to me

Tuesday, October 28, 3 p.m.

Hey, I love you.

If only it were as simple as that.

Because I’m pretty sure that I might’ve been able to muster up the courage to say that this morning on the way to school in Mia’s limo. I offered to go over her Algebra homework with her and check to see if her equations were all right. She was beaming at me so brightly when I told her that all of the problems were correct. Our fingers brushed when I handed her back the paper. I noticed Lilly glaring at us throughout this transaction.

So, I guess you could say that life is treating me very well right now. Very well.

Anyway, instead of getting fired, Mrs. Hill is now actually doing her job. Wow. Principal Gupta gave her a warning but now, Mrs. Hill is watching all of us like a hawk, never leaving her chair. It’s kind of scary, to be honest. And we can’t even lock Boris into the supply closet either! No. We’re forced to listen to him playing Bartok.

Lilly has apparently been writing a book about the socioeconomic divisions that exist within the walls of Albert Einstein High School. I didn’t even know about the book until Mia started begging Lilly to read it. I even offered to publish it in Crackhead, but she had to get all snotty about it and said she was holding out for a "legitimate" publisher. How idiotic is that?

After a few more moments of Mia’s begging, Lilly said in her scary voice, "If people don’t stop bothering me about the book, I’m going to fling myself off of the top of the school water tower." Actually, that’s not exactly possible anymore because when I was a freshman the seniors decided to pull a prank and pour a bunch of tadpoles into it.

The Computer Club meeting after school was much less than productive. Kenny and Judith couldn’t stop talking about how much fun it was going to be at Rocky Horror. And then Kenny said he had invited Mia. I, of course, told him that I had already invited her and he said that he thought I might’ve, seeing as how Mia mentioned me.

This, of course, sparked my interest, and I asked what Mia had said about me.

"Well, I was asking her if she wanted to come with us all and she asked me if one of my friends was you," Kenny said, his eyes literally lit up. "And, of course, I said yes." Okay, so I was expecting a little more than mentioning me in passing.

But, hey, it’s a start.

Tuesday, October 28, 10 p.m.

"Um, hi. Can I have a…"

That voice…

"No. With the sauce on the side…"

So familiar…

"Yes. Thank you."

I was at Number One Noodle Son (which is obvious by now, but I go there about three times a week…sometimes more) when I heard a strangely familiar voice. And there she was. Her. It was the same girl that I had liked for so long. Her long chestnut brown hair was now shorter. Her liquid black eyes were as big and bright as ever.

Samantha Baker. She was dressed all in black, a big change from her all-pink wearing days. I hadn’t seen her for years, ever since she had moved away. Samantha stood at the counter, looking all around the restaurant. I tried to hide myself from her view but she noticed me almost right away. And, if I still liked her, I would have been ecstatic that she actually knew who I was.

"Michael? Michael Moscovitz? Is that you?" Samantha said, gazing right into my eyes.

But I didn’t feel nervous. I mean, why would I have been nervous?

I love Mia. And only Mia.

"Yeah. Hi, Samantha," I managed to say. She then walked over right in front of my table, her eyes glowing.

"It’s so great to see you! How long has it been? Four years?" Samantha said, not really asking me so much as asking herself. I nodded my head, smiling slightly.

"You look…different. What happened to the pink?"

"Oh!" Samantha exclaimed, looking down at her black ensemble. "I gave that up a year ago. I finally realized that cheerleading, to me, is just…mind sucking. I don’t know. What’s the point of waving around pompoms and wearing these disgustingly short skirts just to cheer on a football team?"

"I know what you mean," I said, before I could stop myself. "Not that I ever cheered…" Samantha laughed lightly.

"You look different yourself," Samantha said, scanning my face. I stuffed some cold sesame noodles into my mouth. "Older, I guess. Who would’ve known that you would turn out to be so cute?" Gee, thanks. I didn’t know that I was so terrifyingly unattractive before, I was thinking. "Well, not that you were ugly…Actually, I used to sort of have a crush on you back in eighth grade." I nearly choked on my sesame noodles.

"W-what?" I said before gulping down some water.

"Yeah, I used to think you were so smart and funny. And you had really nice eyes, I remember thinking," Samantha said, not meeting my eyes. She turned her head and saw that her order was ready. "Oh, hey, I have to get going. I’m only in town for the night. It was really great seeing you again, Michael."

"Yeah, nice seeing you too," I sputtered out. With one last smile, Samantha walked away, got her food, and left the restaurant. I was a bit dazed by what had just happened.

Samantha Baker had just admitted to having a crush on me when I was practically in love with her.

How much does it suck that I never told her how I felt?

A/N: Great scones, great scones. You know something that’s even greater than scones? Reviews! )

Chapter Seven: i want you to want me

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter Seven: i want you to want me

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews!

--

Wednesday, October 29, Homeroom

Hormones are very strange, powerful things.

Lilly and I were standing in front of our apartment building, waiting for Mia to pick us up in her limo, like she does just about every morning. I saw the limo and pointed it out. Lilly walked to the door, opened it, and got in. I quickly followed in after all. Lilly looked across the seat and the Pop Tart she had been chewing dropped right out of her mouth. I looked up and my mouth gaped open a little too.

There was this guy with overalls and a flannel shirt, sitting next to Mia. My first thought was: Is that her BOYFRIEND?! But then Mia must've noticed our expressions (but, really, they weren't hard to miss) and quickly introduced the plaid-clad guy as her cousin Hank, from Versailles, Indiana. Though it isn't pronounced "ver-sigh." No, in Indiana the town's name is pronounced exactly how it looks: "ver sales."

But, hey, who am I to judge a town?

Wednesday, October 29, G & T

Oh, God. Lilly's really going to get it now.

Yeah. She and Hank? Yeah, they're gone.

They've gone missing.

I just know it. Lilly has officially gone crazy in my book. I noticed her being excessively flirty with him throughout lunch (though I was sitting with the Computer Club, as always, so I couldn't exactly hear what she was saying). But I swear that I saw her mouth the words interesting and Transit Museum in the same sentence. And that's how I knew that she is insane.

But, now that I think about it, the situation is rather amusing. Who would've known? The bitchy sister of Michael Moscovitz and Hank, the country boy from Indiana, are missing. Mia doesn't seem to find it as amusing as I do though. Boris finds the situation extremely depressing. I mean, if I were him and my girlfriend (though that girlfriend wouldn't be Lilly for obvious reasons) left with some "hot farmer dude from Versailles" (as I overheard Gwen Shayne saying to one of her fellow cheerleaders), I would be sad too. He won't stop playing Mahler and even Mrs. Hill agrees that shutting him in the closet is the best way to keep our sanity.

She let up sneak into the gym and steal some exercise mats to help muffle the sound. But, unfortunately, it isn't working and the constant playing is driving me crazy myself.

"For all we know, Lilly and Hank could've been kidnapped by Libyan terrorists," Mia said, extremely convinced.

"I find that highly unlikely, Mia," I said, shaking my head. "It's more reasonable to assume that they're enjoying an afternoon of skipping class and watching a showing at the Sony Imax Theater." She didn't seem to believe this though, and went back to doing whatever she had been doing before we started speaking. Writing, I think.

Maybe in a journal. Like me.

Wednesday, October 29, 6 p.m.

Okay, everything's all right. Lilly came back a little before five, which is what I said when Mia called, sounding concerned. I asked her what the hell she was doing for the last few periods of the day and all I could get out of her before she slammed her bedroom door on my face was, "Just walking around." Yeah, I'm so sure, Lilly.

I've been talking to Judith for the last fifteen minutes and she won't let me get a word in before basically answering herself or asking more questions.

SCINCERULZ: Hey, Michael!

SCINCERULZ: Hello?

CracKing: Hey.

SCINCERULZ: What's up?

CracKing: Not much. Just working on Crackhead.

SCINCERULZ: Oh! Cool. I really loved last month's issue.

CracKing: Thanks.

SCINCERULZ: Yeah, so Halloween's in two days. I can't wait to go the Rocky Horror.

CracKing: Yeah, me too.

SCINCERULZ: Oh, so Lilly and Boris are coming?

SCINCERULZ: Oh! Yeah, they are. Suzanne is bringing Paul, I think. And isn't Mia coming?

SCINCERULZ: Oh, yeah, she is. This is going to be cool. Don't you think?

SCINCERULZ: Hello?

She, of course, typed all of this in a matter of twenty seconds so it was really kind of difficult to reply without her shooting out more questions and answering them herself.

CracKing: Hi. Hey, I'm going to go. Bye.

Then, of course, I just logged into my other username, InOurDarkestHour, and continued working on Crackhead. I've been writing this small little article about how trick-or-treating isn't only for kids and that people of all ages (or, rather, people under eighteen) deserve free candy once in awhile. It's pretty pointless but I haven't really thought of many good topics to write about lately. Maybe that's because all I've been thinking about is Mia.

Well, not really. I've also been writing some new songs and reading some books by Issac Asimov. There's a collection of his books in the library and I've been hoping to buy them at the end-of-year book sale. And, I don't have demerits and students with no demerits get a discount on books at the sale. So, I'm pretty sure this is going to be a good school year. Until, you know, it ends and I go off to college. Then I won't be able to see Mia everyday.

So, now I am drinking hot cocoa with cinnamon and Maya's making some gingerbread men. Only God knows why she's making them in October. But Maya loves to make dessert: it's one of the many things she's excellent at and she knows it. She's a really great, kind woman. I think I'll miss her too when I leave for college.

Hey, I'll probably miss everyone.

But I won't miss anyone more than Mia.

Chapter Eight: why must I be a teenager in love?

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter Eight: why must I be a teenager in love?

--

Thursday, October 30, Lunch

Okay. Am I obsessed with Mia? Because it really seems like I am sometimes. She’s mostly all I ever think about, all I ever write songs about, all I ever dream about (okay, not that part because last night I had a dream that the rock-eating monster in The Neverending Story was about to throw rocks at me but then Atreyu came to the rescue).

Well, anyway, cousin Hank from Versailles didn’t come to school again today. Boris seemed much, much happier when he learned that Hank wasn’t there. It’s kind of sad, really. Boris can get envious if Lilly even hands a pencil or something to another guy. There’s a fine line between utter devotion and flat-out stalking.

Dinner at the Moscovitz apartment was very forced last night. Mom and Dad didn’t want to pry directly into where Lilly had been when school was in session but it was very obvious in the rough way that they cut their steak that they were undeniably curious. But Lilly wouldn’t talk (which is really hard to believe because she never shuts up). Mom asked if Lilly was still dating that fine young man, Boris, and Lilly assured her that she was. But then why was she gone with Hank for so long? Do I really want to know what they’re doing?

Oh. Bad mental images.

So, what else is there to write? Oh, yes. Ms. Castelli quit. Yes, that’s right: Ms. Sharon Castelli, the AP English class (which, I suppose, isn’t very advanced because the class does include Gwen Shayne) teacher, ever the free spirit, has quit so she could "find her soul." I believe that those are her exact words, according to Principal Gupta. Mrs. Margery Weinstein is now the teacher. She reminds me vaguely of Mrs. Hill; when I went up to ask a question about the English assignment, I could see her flipping through the latest issue of Cosmo.

Yes. Cosmo. And she seems to be older than fifty.

More bad mental images.

Thursday, October 30, G & T

Oh, what is that?

Oh! Lilly and Hank are missing? AGAIN?!

When I entered the classroom, Mia was looking panicky so obviously, I knew something was up. I asked her about it and she said that Lilly and Hank were missing again. She said that Lilly claimed to be having horrible cramps (something I really didn’t need to know). Then she said that she had just gotten a call from her mom’s mom, telling her that Hank was gone.

Oh, great. All I can think about now are Lilly and Hank doing God knows what on the observation deck of the Empire State Building or something. So, assuming by the way Boris so cheerfully entered the classroom, it was obvious he didn’t know that Lilly and Hank had disappeared yet again. And, I (and the rest of the G & T class) found that this was for the better. We don’t want him to start playing Mahler again. So, everyone is being careful not to comment on how coincidental that Hank and Lilly are missing at the same time.

As a precaution, I showed him a computer game called Decapitate the Backstreet Boy that I made for computer class. You can hurl weapons like knives and axes at members of the Backstreet Boys. After you beat the first level, you can cut off the heads of other boy bands such as New Kids on the Block and ‘N Sync. The person who gets the highest score can carve their initials into Ricky Martin’s chest. And I only got a B on it because Mr. Moore felt that it wasn’t violent enough for today’s market.

So, basically he was encouraging us to make extremely violent games. Good times.

Mrs. Hill is letting us talk today, which hasn’t been allowed ever since the interview with Mia aired. I had an unfortunately brief talk with Mia about the situation but that’s all I’ve really said to her all day, except for asking her in the morning where Hank was.

Thursday, October 30, 5 p.m.

Of course she came home, acting like absolutely nothing had happened…like she hadn’t just missed school again to go out on some tryst with Mia’s cousin, Hank. No, she acted all superior and worthy, which caused me great frustration. There’s something about Lilly that annoys me more than anything else. Oh, yeah, it must be the fact that she’s my sister. There must be some unwritten law that says that you must absolutely not get along with your siblings. And we don’t.

Anyway, I picked up my Halloween costume for Rocky Horror tomorrow. The whole computer club (excluding Judith who said that she can’t come because she has the flu…Oh, I’m so saddened…whoa, that sounded mean) is going as a troop of WWII soldiers. We’re wearing fatigues covered in fake blood and phony stumps in place of our limbs. Suzanne is even making a sign that says Looking for Private Ryan. Ha ha.

So, now I am drinking sour Kool Aid (yes, Kool Aid) and listening to "Eagles" by Rooney. I wonder what Mia’s costume is. Belle from Beauty and the Beast, perhaps? As corny as it is, Mia would look really nice as Belle. Or, actually, in any costume because she’s just so amazing beautiful. Though I know she doesn’t view herself as the gorgeous nymph I think she is. I love her in her entirety, gawkiness and all.

Did I just write that? Yes, yes I did.

Later Thursday

Yeah, Paul and Suzanne? Well, they broke up.

"It was complete mutual," Suzanne said in a softer voice than usual into the phone. "I guess that we just figured that it was better to be friends than a couple. I mean, he’s an excellent kisser and he really knows how to—"

"Suzanne?"

"Yeah?"

"Too much detail," I said.

"Oh. Sorry," Suzanne said. "So, how are the chickens in the meadow today?" In Suzanne-speak, that basically means ‘So, what’s up with you?’ I replied, "Ah, the chickens are rolling on the ground, surrounded by a stampede of antelope." Which means (I think), ‘Everything’s pretty all right, but I’m just thinking about a lot of things and I’m kind of stressed out.’ Suzanne sounded like she understood and said that she was going to out to Serendipity for a nice, big frozen hot chocolate. She proceeded to ask me if I wanted to come. I thought about it for a second and then agreed. I thought she might need some comforting. Or something, at least.

We met at the subway station and took the metro together. I noticed that her dark honey eyes were lightly streaked with red but I didn’t say anything about it. We entered Serendipity and both got the frozen hot chocolate. And, I think I may have had the longest, most thought provoking conversation ever with Suzanne. When you really get to know her, she seems like the sweetest, smartest (in more than academic ways) person you could ever meet. And she probably is. We’re just really good friends.

"So, how’s your love life, Michael?" Suzanne asked, spooning some of the frozen hot chocolate into her mouth, not seeming to care about the millions of calories in the dessert. That’s another great thing about her: she doesn’t care much for body image and never judges someone based on his or her physical appearance.

If I weren’t so much in love with Mia, I’d probably have a crush on Suzanne.

"Uh, you know," I said nonchalantly, stirring up the drink. "Good, I guess."

"Code for you’re not getting any?" Suzanne teased, smirking.

"Hey! I’m getting…" I paused. "Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right. But that’s purely by choice right now. There’s a girl I have a crush on but she just doesn’t seem to notice."

"Have you tried giving her hints?"

"Yeah," I said with a small sigh. "But she doesn’t seem to notice."

I wish she would.

--

A/N: The next chapter is the last! Please review!

Chapter Nine: whatever's gonna make you want me

Crackhead in Confusion

Chapter Nine: whatever's gonna make you want me

A/N: Suzanne is an original character. So, I'm thinking that this will be the last "Michael's-POV-throughout-the-PD-books" story I'm going to be writing. Unless, you know, I feel like the material isn't too stale to do the fourth and fifth book. So, happy reading…and please review!

--

Friday, October 31, 2:50 p.m.

When I woke up this morning, I felt a strange sense of awareness. Fat raindrops hit my window as I lay in bed at six a.m., thinking about Rocky Horror tonight. That's pretty much all I've been thinking about lately, along with Mia. Things got weirder throughout the day. Then, lunch came and I guess all I have to say is Boris is as weak as he looks. I mean, he's okay, I guess…He's nice and all. But he'd probably get hurt lifting up a kitten or something. Well, you know, if the kitten wasn't afraid of the whole tucking-the-sweater-in-the-pants thing.

I was sitting at the Computer Club table, as usual, and Judith and Kenny were heatedly discussing yesterday's meeting as well as Rocky Horror. Rocky Horror is excellent and all but you can only talk about it for so long. I'm serious. They cannot stop talking about tonight. "Oh, we should totally to do the Robot during 'Dammit Janet'!" Judith squealed excitedly, shoving Caesar salad into her mouth.

I was busy typing away on my laptop when I heard a collective gasp throughout the cafeteria. Curious as to what was so amazing, I looked up and saw some guy dressed all in black with oddly perfect, groomed hair. Well, it seemed perfect compared to mine. Most days, I just get up, brush my teeth, put on the AEHS uniform, and grab some breakfast. Barely any maintenance at all.

He stood, looking at Mia, and finally began talking. I couldn't hear him too well and I was really curious as to who he was. For a fraction of a second, I felt alarmed. I mean, What if that guy was Mia's boyfriend? But, as I looked closer, I noticed his similarity to…Hank? It turns out that the guy was Hank. He had lost the overalls and Southern drawl.

Hank started talking quickly (well, by the way his lips were moving so rapidly, I assumed he was speaking quickly) and then he did something that I don't think any of us in the cafeteria—not even Lilly—thought would happen. Hank sort of grabbed my sister and pulled her up to a standing position. Then, he just started making out with her. Seriously. Hank just grabbed my sister and they started sucking face.

I really didn't need to see that. Neither, I noticed, did Boris because the next thing I knew, Boris stood up and said in a pretty menacing voice, "Not so fast, hot shot," as Hank started walking away. Hank just kept on walking, either ignoring the virtuoso or just not having heard him. Either way, Boris reached out, grabbed Hank's arm as he was walking, and said in the same scary voice, "That's my girl you had your lips all over, pretty boy."

Hank looked confused (which, really, made him look like he was posing for an underwear commercial or something…Oh, God, I did not just think that) and was all, "Huh?" Then, Boris's fist went straight into Hank's face. There was a loud, crunching sound. I think the cheerleaders were more worried about Hank's face than anything else. Well, luckily for them, it turned out that Boris's hand caused the crunch. He's getting his knuckled splinted.

Then, after not speaking to Mia all day, I had a sort-of conversation with both her and Lilly during Gifted and Talented. I finally found out why Hank was looking so different (turns out that he kissed her because she helped him get signed to some big modeling agency or something). I found this extremely contradicting, seeing as how Lilly's last episode of her show had a segment called, "Yes, You as an Individual Can Bring Down to Sexist, Racist, Ageist, and Sizest Modeling Industry."

Okay, so it wasn't so much as a conversation with me as me interrupting in the middle of their talking.

I've recorded the conversation to the best of my knowledge. I'll skip to the part where I interrupted.

Mia: Well, why did it have to be such a big secret?

Lilly: Do you have any idea how fragile the male ego is?

Me: Hey!

Lilly: I'm sorry, but it's true. Hank's self-esteem had already been reduced to nothing thanks to Amber, Corn Queen of Versailles County. I couldn't allow any negative comments to ruin what little self-confidence he had left. You know how fatalistic boys can be.

Me: Hey!

That was all I really contributed to the conversation then.

Lilly: It was vital that Hank be allowed to pursue his dream without the slightest fatalistic influence. Otherwise, I knew, he didn't stand a chance. And so I kept our plan a secret even from those I most care about. Any one of you, without consciously meaning to, might have torpedoed Hank's chances with the most casual of comments.

Mia: Come on. We'd have been supportive.

Lilly: Mia, think about it. If Hank had said to you, 'Mia, I want to be a model,' what would you have done? Come on. You would have laughed.

Mia: No, I wouldn't have.

I wanted to say, "Yes, you would have," but I figured that it probably wasn't the best way to get into good graces with Mia. But Lilly ended up saying it for me anyway.

Lilly: Yes, you would have. Because to you, Hank is your whiny, allergy-prone cousin from the boondocks who doesn't even know what a bagel is. But I, you see, was able to look beyond that, to the man Hank had the potential to become…

Well, at least she wasn't having sex with him.

Me: Yeah, a man who is destined to have his own pin-up calendar.

Lilly: You, Michael, are just jealous.

Ha ha ha.

Me: Oh, yeah, I've always wanted a big picture of myself in my underwear hanging up in Times Square.

I accompanied this with a roll of my eyes and a small snort.

Me: You know, Lil, I highly doubt Mom and Dad are going to be so impressed by your tremendous act of charity that they're going to overlook the fact that you skipped school to do it. Especially when they find out you've got detention next week because of it.

Lilly: (looking highly disdainful) The most eleemosynary are often martyred.

The hours are slowly going by until Rocky Horror but that seems to be the least on my mind. The film starts at midnight and I still don't even know if Mia is coming. It seems surreal that her mom and Mr. G are actually getting married. The freshman algebra teacher of AEHS and an eclectic artist uniting. Yeah, so I'm still weirded out.

Friday, October 31, 5 p.m.

The following four-way call ended five minutes ago:

Me: Hello?

Judith, Suzanne, and Kenny: Hi!

Me: Uh…who is this?

Judith: This is Judith. And Suzanne. And, uh, Kenny.

Me: Oh. Hey. What's up?

Judith, Suzanne, and Kenny: (in unison) Nothing much, you?

Me: Same here. Just researching online.

Suzanne: Michael, I am not responsible for anything that may come out of the other two's mouths.

Me: Um. Okay.

Judith: I am so excited for tonight! Or, rather, tomorrow morning!

Kenny: Yeah! Rocky Horror is going to rock!

I heard Suzanne mumble something inaudibly.

Me: Care to comment, Suzanne?

I figured that she was just like me: Cornered into this call with no way out without being rude.

Suzanne: Is Paul coming?

Judith: Yeah! He's bringing this girl named Jane from Chemistry class.

Suzanne: Oh, really?

Judith: Yeah, she's nice and all but kind of ditzy.

Me: (changing the subject for the better) So, what about that Mrs. Weinstein?

Suzanne: I think that there's a law or something that says that AEHS cannot have a normal English teacher. I mean, she brings some magazine like Cosmo or Vogue to school everyday. Like we don't notice.

Judith: Yeah, but she's really intelligent. She knew everything about Issac Asimov when I asked her about him.

Kenny: Whoa, there's going to be this big anime convention on the 21st of next month!

Suzanne, Judith, and Me: What?

(Background: "Judith! Come out here! There's a documentary about genetics on the Discovery Channel!)

Judith: Oh, hey, I'm going to go. See you all later?

Me: Yeah. I should get going too. Later.

Suzanne: Eh, I don't have to go but I might as well. Bye.

Kenny: They're showing a rerun of my favorite Josie and the Pussycats episode on Cartoon Network! Bye!

(Click)

(Click)

Suzanne: Michael? Are you still there?

Me: Yeah.

Suzanne: Paul has a new girlfriend already? How come no one told me?

Me: Uh, you guys aren't together anymore. Suze, I thought it was a mutual decision…I mean, it's not like you like him anymore, right?

Suzanne: Yeah. Right. Well, bye.

Me: Bye.

(Click)

Me: Suzanne?

(Click)

How is it that I'm always the last one on the phone, whether the call is with three people or just one person? And I never really have to go. That's how completely pathetic my social life has turned out to be at age sixteen. As a senior in high school, shouldn't I be out every Friday and Saturday night at keggers, getting drunk off my ass and hooking up with random girls?

But, if I did that, I wouldn't be me, would I?

Saturday, November 1

Just when you think your life can't get any worse, a night at Rocky Horror changes everything.

Suzanne, Lilly, Boris, and I got dinner at Number One Noodle Son at eight. We were decked out in our costumes of course. I had dressed up like the rest of the guys in the Computer Club had planned to dress up like: soldiers from World War II covered in fake blood and all. Lilly was dressed as a Freudian slip (or, rather, she was dressed in a black slip and a fake beard hung from her face. I made sure to take many pictures for future blackmail. Suzanne was dressed as Marilyn Monroe, occasionally throwing up her flowy white dress. Okay, not in the way you would imagine. Boris was dressed as an extremely unthreatening Al Capone (the violin case and the fact that Boris is…Boris really took away from the whole Mafioso thing).

Suzanne and I were deep in conversation about the trip to Europe she was taking starting December 1st and how she wouldn't be coming back until after winter break when in walked Paul and Jane, of all people. I saw them first and quickly looked away, hoping Suzanne wouldn't notice me…noticing them. I had almost succeeded when Paul called out our names.

"Hey, Michael! Suzanne!" Paul yelled from the entrance, waving his hands furiously. Suzanne, I noticed, turned oddly pale and looked down at her fried rice. Why didn't I figure it out before? I must be pretty fucking dense, seeing as I didn't look past the "Oh, we're better as friends…The breakup was completely mutual" thing.

But Paul is a good guy. I couldn't throw a drink in his face or something for breaking Suzanne's heart. And now this whole situation, as I write about it, is looking like something straight out of a Lifetime movie.

"Hey, Paul," I said as Paul and Jane approached our table. Lilly and Boris were too busy to notice, seeing as they were talking about the issues discussed on the latest Lilly Tells it Like it Is.

"Hey, Suzanne," Paul said, smiling brightly at Suze, who by this point was looking oddly fascinated by her chopsticks. I waved my hand in front of her face and that seemed to make her snap out of whatever she was thinking about.

"Hi, Paul," Suze said in an eerily casual voice. "What's up?" He smiled, well, brilliantly and said, "Nothing much. Jane's really excited about going to Rocky Horror, seeing how she's never gone before. This followed with ten minutes of complete awkwardness. Then, Paul and Jane finally left and things got a bit more normal.

"So, that must've been awkward," I said, stating the obvious.

"She doesn't seem his type, does she?" Suze said in a rather bright voice. All she would talk about for the next fifteen minutes was Paul…and Jane. Suze knew Jane from her chemistry and drama classes. Jane had apparently gotten one of the lead roles in the spring play, West Side Story. But, I reminded her, she (Suze) got the part of Maria. Some junior had gotten the role of Tony. Suze had made me promise that I wouldn't laugh at her throughout the whole play.

We all left about thirty minutes later and headed back to our apartment (well, the Moscovitz apartment, anyway). We watched part of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the original) and then at 10:45, we all left for the Village Cinema. I guess I didn't expect that there would be such a long line but we had come early so the line soon grew longer and worse. I had already bought tickets beforehand so all we had to do was wait in line to get in.

The traffic was absolutely heinous. The parade didn't exactly help matters either. The rest of the Computer Club, all of which, except Judith, was also dressed in WWII dead soldier garb, soon joined us. Paul and Shaun had the Looking for Private Ryan sign that we had made at our meeting on Tuesday.

It was so annoyingly loud at the Village Cinema last night. Everyone was anxious to finally get inside and do the Pelvis Thrust or whip out their…umbrellas. I looked over at Suzanne and I was surprised to see her and Paul talking, while Jane looked highly disgruntled in the background. And I swear that Paul and Suze were beaming at each other. I have a feeling that Jane won't be in the picture much longer.

So, I spent most of the time waiting for Mia to show up. I mean, she didn't exactly say that she was going to but she didn't say she wasn't going to either. It took me a few minutes to recognize that long, black limo amidst the horrendous traffic as hers. But when I saw a tall, beautiful girl dressed in a magnificent light pink dress get out of the limo, followed by a tall, burly bodyguard in black, I knew it was her…Mia. She looked amazing. It took me only about a minute to realize that she was dressed as Glinda the Good Witch, of Wizard of Oz fame.

"Oh, my god! You came! You came!" Lilly exclaimed gleefully. I got over the shock of seeing Mia pretty quickly.

"Quick," I said, to Mia and Lars. "Get in line. I got two extra tickets just in case you ended up making it after all." How I must've sounded was in no comparison to how I felt. There was a slew of grumbles as Mia and Lars joined us in the line but Lars showed them all his Glock so they shut up almost immediately.

"Where's Hank?" Lilly asked curiously. I noticed that Boris scowled when she asked that.

"He couldn't make it," Mia said mellifluously.

"He cannot come. Good," Boris said in a firm, even voice.

Lilly proceeded to give Boris a warning look and then pointed at Mia. "What are you supposed to be?"

"Duh," Mia said. "I'm Glinda the Good Witch."

"I knew that," I said. "You look really…You look really…" God, I'm pathetic. I couldn't even get over my nerves enough to tell her how good she looked. Not that she never looks good. But tonight…I mean…Wow.

"You are way too glam for Halloween," Lilly said defiantly.

"Um. What, exactly, are you?" Well, if you were to spot Lilly on the street by random and weren't informed that she was dressed as a Freudian slip, you might mistake her as a cross-dresser with overly feminine, slightly bulldog-like features. Well, that's what I thought, anyway.

"Hello," Lilly said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm a Freudian slip."

"And I am Al Capone," Boris said in a voice that he probably thought sounded tough. "Chicago gangster."

"Good for you, Boris," Mia said, looking like she was about ready to laugh.

Suddenly, Kenny appeared behind Mia and sort of tugged on her.

"You made it!" he cried. That's when I should've known things were suspicious.

"I did," Mia said, positively glowing. The line finally started moving and the Computer Club (minus Suzanne and Judith, who wanted no part in the bloody platoon thing) started marching, going, "Hut, two, three four. Hut, two, three, four." It wasn't my idea, thank you very much.

When we finally got into the theater, I tried not to show my downright happiness when Mia managed to sit next to me. But, on her other side was not Lars but Kenny. I found that odd, because Lars always has to be extra close to Mia. Ah, not in the way. I mean, he needs to protect her from danger and stuff. Instead, Lars just sat behind Mia while Kenny tried to chat her up about Biology or something.

Rocky Horror was as amazing as ever. Everyone was acting completely psychotic, but in a predominantly good way. People threw food (usually bread or carrots) at the screen, put up their umbrellas when it rained in the movie (Suzanne nearly poked Judith's eye out), and danced the Robot or did the Pelvic Thrust. Great, great times.

Whenever I laughed, I looked over at Mia to see if she was laughing too. And she was, which I found excellent. It meant that we both could laugh at the same kind of things. I couldn't help but notice that Kenny was doing the same thing as I was. Checking to see if she was laughing when he was, I mean. But I still didn't seem to get it, though I was rather suspicious by then.

After the movie ended (to my utmost disappointment), we all went to Round the Clock for some breakfast. It may have been 2 a.m. by that point but I don't think any of us were really all that tired anyway. Mia sat in between Kenny and me once again. Lars, I noticed, kept downing cup after cup of black coffee. Everyone was talking really loudly and simultaneously, so it was hard to get a word in. Suzanne and Paul, by this point, were making out and Jane was gone. Well, actually, she had left by the middle of the movie after she saw Paul nuzzling Suzanne's neck.

Okay, so I won't get into the details there. But I'm happy for them.

I could hear Kenny's voice but he wasn't exactly audible above all of the noise. He was talking to Mia though. I concentrated on cutting my pancakes when I felt something sort of jostle me. I looked over…and Kenny's arm was around Mia's shoulder.

And that's when I knew that I should have figured it out before. I had reason to be suspicious.

Yeah, Kenny and Mia? They're a couple.

So, I looked at them then looked at Lars quickly after that, but he didn't notice, as he was pouring sugar into what must have been his fifth cup of coffee. So, I stood up and said, "Well, I'm beat. What do you say we call it a night?" Everyone looked at me like I was truly demented. Not demented so much as having my heart broken on Halloween.

"What's with you, Michael? Gotta catch up on your beauty sleep?" Lilly said cattily. I ignored her and took out my wallet, counting out how much it would all cost.

"I'm tired, too," Mia said, standing up next to me. "Lars, could you call the car?" It seemed that there was nothing more that he would rather do.

"It's a shame you have to go," Kenny said, sounding disappointed. "Mia, can I call you?" Kenny totally paid for Mia's pancakes and Lars's cups of coffee. Then, Lars tried to give me a twenty and said, "For the movie tickets." Only though I was definitely not going to take it. I mean, Kenny paid for Mia's food. I could at least fork out enough money to cover the movie tickets.

"Oh, no. My treat," I said, well aware of how red my face was turning.

The limo soon came and we all waited to get in. I ended up standing next to Mia and I finally felt I had the courage to say what I couldn't say when I first saw her.

"What I meant to say before, Mia, was that you look…you look really…" She blinked up at me with her amazing gray eyes and I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe.

"You look really nice in that dress," I said, quickly but clearly. She smiled so brightly at me that I felt my heart beating faster and faster. Kenny ruined the mood by calling out from the limo, "Are you guys coming, or what?" But, I think, it doesn't really matter.

Because I was able to bask in those few moments of knowing that Mia was smiling at me and only me.

Pathetic? Yes, probably.

But I meant every word.

And she knew it.

--

A/N: Well, this story is now complete. Please review!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Chapter Ten: you are the love of my lifetime

The Crackhead Chronicles

Chapter Ten: you are the love of my lifetime

A/N: This is the final chapter! Please review!

Saturday, October 18

I think I’m going to the dance tonight.

Yes, that’s right.

Michael Moscovitz, usual boy-cotter of all school dances, is going to a…dance. The Cultural Diversity Dance.

And why have I decided to go, even though I know that Mia’s going to be there with Josh?

I still love her, even if she is going to be dancing with Josh. Plus, I might be able to ask her for a dance (a slow dance, of course, because fast dances are incredibly lame). And then, I’ll be able to have my body pressed against hers and, uh, sniff her. Yes, I know that sounds really stupid but Mia smells really, really good. Like fresh shampoo and baby powder. And she has soft skin. Well, soft hands at least.

Now I’ll just obsess over Mia and her soft hands. Great.

Saturday Night

Well, the dance starts in a half-hour.

I’m wearing my penguin suit (or tuxedo, rather) and I smell like soap.

Is that appealing to girls? Penguin suits and soap? I sure hope so.

While Mia is dancing with Josh, what will I do? I mean, I can’t just march up to them and demand Josh to get his slimy hands off of Mia. Though I wish I could.

The only reason I even have this tux is because my Mom made me get it for my cousin Steve’s bar mitzvah.

Fifteen minutes later

Okay, I think I’m going to leave.

I don’t think I’ll be bringing you with me though.

Later Saturday Night, Thai Culture Table, Albert Einstein High School Cafeteria

Okay, so I was able to fit you into my inside coat pocket.

No sign of Mia and the dance started about forty-five minutes ago.

I’ve just been sitting around for nearly an hour. Okay, yeah, and I’ve been looking around, waiting for her to come.

Maybe she’s having some romantic dinner at Tavern on the Green and she’s so caught up that she forgot all about this stupid high school dance. I mean, I would too. Not necessarily if that dinner was with Josh Richter but…you know what I mean. I just wish she would come.

I’ve already been to about ten of the tables, including the Ethiopian Culture Table, Italian Culture Table, Moroccan Culture Table, and Swedish Culture Table. And now I’m drinking Thai iced tea at the Thai Culture Table. It’s good but it would taste a lot better if Mia was here.

Okay, so, a person’s presence can’t really affect the taste of Thai iced tea but I just can’t help but wonder if Mia is okay. If she’s all right…

There’s this big disco ball and really bright strobe lights scattered everywhere. I guess there aren’t very many ideas for the Cultural Diversity Dance, considering you can’t exactly decorate the cafeteria with very diverse things. There are these stars hanging from the ceiling. The names of all of the countries represented by the tables are on the walls, surrounded by big paper stars and lots of glitter and glow-in-the-dark paint.

No wonder why I never came to a school dance. Until now, anyway.

So, I’m sitting in front of the wall that says THAILAND surrounded by big yellow and green stars.

I’m the only person from the Computer Club here. Even though we boycotted not to come, I came anyway.

And now I regret having done so.

Wait, is that who I think it is—

Sunday, October 19

Last night was a beautiful, beautiful night.

Probably the best night of my life, so far.

I didn’t only get one dance from Mia…

Every slow song there was, we were on the dance floor, swaying to the music.

I sort of stopped my journal entry because I saw Mia get sort of pushed in out of the corner of my eye. And, yes, Josh Richter was behind her. But Mia wasn’t looking too happy. Not at all.

And that’s when I noticed the flashes coming from outside. And clicks.

"Princess Mia! Open the doors!" I heard reporters screaming from outside.

Mia turned to Josh furiously. I distantly heard their conversation, but Mia wasn’t speaking very loudly. No, she sounded like her voice was a harsh, angry whisper.

The first thing I caught was: "What do you mean, I don’t even know you? Of course I know you." That was Josh, by the way. But I assumed what Mia had said wasn’t something exactly entertaining to Josh’s ears.

"No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have ordered me a steak for dinner."

I sort of looked at them with a dazed expression. And that’s what I realized what was happening. I’m just shocked that I didn’t figure it out before. Josh never liked Mia for Mia. No, he just wanted his fifteen minutes of fame. He wanted to be known as Princess Mia’s boyfriend. He wanted his picture to be in every magazine, every newspaper.

I should’ve known from the start. And I’m sorry to say that Mia was gullible enough to fall for all of it.

Every single bit.

"So, I ordered the girl a steak," Josh said nastily. He obviously hadn’t realized what he had done, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so boastful about it. "That’s a crime? It was filet mignon, for God’s sake."

"She’s a vegetarian, you sociopath," Lilly said in the meanest voice I have ever heard her use. Even meaner than when I ripped her poster of the Backstreet Boys when she was ten.

"Oops, my bad," Josh said, even after this sudden bit of news. And that’s when I honestly felt like…punching him or something. He doesn’t know Mia. He never will.

Then she turned her back on him when he said six truly chilling words. "Jesus! It was just a kiss!"

Josh had kissed Mia. Even if it only been to land his picture in a few teen magazines, it still made me feel like punching him so, so hard.

"It wasn’t just a kiss," Mia said angrily. "Maybe that’s how you wanted it to look, like it was just a kiss. But you and I both know what it really was: A media event. And one that you’ve been planning ever since you saw me in the Post. Well, thank you, Josh, but I can get my own publicity. I don’t need you."

Then, she took some book from Lars and stalked into the girls’ bathroom.

Right after that, Lars walked over to Josh and did some sort of weird move. I don’t know what it was but it definitely looked like it hurt. A lot.

I sort of popped out from behind the Thai Culture Table when I saw Mia and Lilly and Tina appear. I walked over to Mia, feeling oddly confident.

"Um, hey Mia," I said, smiling slightly. "I don’t really have anyone else to hang out with, because Principal Gupta ruled that the Internet isn’t a culture and therefore can’t have it’s own table. So the Computer Club boycotted the Cultural Diversity Dance on principle."

I sat down next to her and asked if she was all right. We spent some time cracking jokes about how all the cheerleaders obviously don’t celebrate cultural diversity, because they were all wearing basically the same black dress.

Then someone started talking about Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and whether or not there’s caffeine in replicator coffee. I insisted that the matter used to make the things that come out of the replicator is refuse, which means when you order an ice cream sundae or something, it might be made out of urine, but with the germs and impurites extracted. I think we were all pretty disgusted after that conversation.

Then Mr. G came over and asked Mia if she was okay. Then he congratulated her for bringing up her F to a D. But then she credited her improved math performance to me. I turned red and insisted that I had nothing to do with it.

Then a fast song came on and all of Mia’s friends came back. After a brief talk about Tina’s promotion for Lilly Tells It Like It Is, another slow song came on. We were left alone again, amid these mounds of rice, when I decided to be brave for once. And I’m glad I was.

"Do you want to dance?" I asked, my head tilted. She said sure almost immediately, to my delight.

I’ve slow-danced before (granted, it was with my mom at my bar mitzvah) but I’ve never really gotten it. You just sort of sway, moving your feet in tune with the music.

I can’t even begin to explain how…amazing it is to dance with the girl you love. She smelled so nice and she had her head on my shoulder, gently breathing on my neck. And yet, I didn’t feel very nervous like I do with a mere glance at her. Dancing with Mia seemed so natural.

It was so silent on the dance floor. So, I started rambling the minute the song was over.

"Do you want some Thai iced tea from the Thai Culture table or maybe some edamame from the Japanese Anime Club table?" I said, smiling at Mia.

That was pretty much how the rest of the dance went: We sat around and talked during the fast songs and danced during the slow ones.

We all took Mia’s limo to the Moscovitz apartment (or, rather, my apartment…or, actually, my family’s apartment). Mom and Dad looked pretty surprised to see all twelve of us—including Mia’s and Tina’s bodyguards—at the door. They seemed especially surprised to see me. They hadn’t realized I had left my room.

My parents let us take over the living room and we played End of the World until my dad came out and said everyone had to go home, because he had an early appointment with his tai chi instructor.

Right before they all left, Lars and I talked.

"So, I guess you enjoyed this night?" Lars said suggestively, smiling. I just smiled back.

"I can’t believe we actually danced!" I said, not really getting why I was talking about Mia to her bodyguard.

But Lars is actually pretty cool.

"I can’t help but think that the Princess likes you." I turned red but then he said he had better go with the others. We exchanged high fives before he left.

Right after he left, I walked up to Mia and said, "Hey, Mia…I want to show you something…"

Then, I led her to my room and we had wild, passionate sex.

Okay, not really. And I don’t want to think about that for awhile. I mean, we’re not even a couple.

Not yet, anyway.

I showed her my guitar and told her not to tell anyone that I taught myself to play the guitar, not even Lilly. No, especially not Lilly. And I told her how I write all of my own songs. I don’t know what came over me but I played her one of my many songs about her, "Tall Drink of Water." It’s about this tall, pretty girl (Mia) who doesn’t know this boy (me) is in love with her.

And, in a way, I think I’ve always loved her.

Chapter Nine: Love Is Supposed to be This Bad

The Crackhead Chronicles

Chapter Nine: Love Is Supposed to be This Bad

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Next chapter is the last.

Wednesday Night, 7 p.m.

I still can’t believe it.

Mia…my Mia…is a princess!

A PRINCESS!!

Well, I guess it is pretty unbelievable.

Oh, the phone’s ringing. No one’s home besides me so—

Later on Wednesday, 10:45 p.m.

Okay, so instead of spending a Wednesday night rambling in my journal (namely, you), I went out to Number One Noodle Son with the Computer Club. Nothing calms you more than cold sesame noodles and roast-pork-and-wonton soup after finding out that your crush is a princess.

I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. No…of course not.

But, then again, Mia might move to Genovia and meet some prince and fall in love…

And forget about me. I mean, her friends in Manhattan…

But she wouldn’t, would she?

Would she?

Anyway, it was pretty fun, just hanging out and eating cold sesame noodles. I don’t often hang out on school nights (or, come to think of it, weekends either) but when I do (with the Computer Club, of course), I usually have fun. Something interesting always happens. And tonight, it was when Judith excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and she slipped on a sesame noodle that someone (no one would admit it but…okay, it was me) had dropped.

I guess I felt kind of bad but it was just so funny. Judith turned bright red but she then started laughing and the rest of the Computer Club joined in with the laughter. Except Kenny Showalter, this anime obsessed freshman in the Computer Club, who was writing something on his napkin. I’m not usually very nosy but I sort of leaned in, pretending to reach for the plate of sweet-and-sour chicken and I saw three letters, written over and over again:

MIA.

At first, I was wondering why Kenny was writing Missing in Action when it dawned upon me what else he might be writing. Mia. As in Mia Thermopolis. As in Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo, Princess of Genovia (otherwise known as…Mia Thermopolis).

Anyway, the rest of the Computer Club was still laughing. We geeks are very easily amused.

But, hey…you can’t say that we’re antisocial. I mean, you can always rely on your fellow Computer Club members.

Wow, how stupid did I just sound?

Thursday, October 16, French

Well, I guess I should’ve known it would happen sooner or later.

Mia and Tina were eating lunch when who but Lana Weinberger should set her tray down by Mia. And then, Josh Richter (her boyfriend) and their entourages started piling into that one table. Everyone noticed that Lana Weinberger, snobby cheerleader bitch, had chosen to sat down by Mia Thermopolis, supreme geek queen (or, Princess, rather…ha ha).

I was watching them all talk rather intently (okay, so I was mostly looking at Mia) and Lana made this sort of astonished face at something Mia had said. She (Mia) had probably said something like how she couldn’t believe all of the saturated fats and animal by-products Josh and his cronies were consuming and that Lana and her little bimbo friends should get the hell out of there because they weren’t wanted, the little skanks.

Okay, maybe not. Because Mia is too nice to say that.

But she was probably thinking it.

I saw Lana look at her friends, then at Mia, and then burst out laughing. I was wondering what Lana found so funny.

Then, a few moments later, Weinberger’s jaw dropped at something Richter had said.

I wish I could’ve been there, even for a second, just to know what had been so funny and what surprised Lana so much. But, no, I just have to be a Computer Club geek. Then again, I’d rather be a geek than a snob. Even a popular snob at that. Who really cares about popularity?

After G & T, Lars, Mia’s bodyguard, sort of pulled me aside before I left the room (Mia was collecting her things) and we had a brief chat.

About Mia.

You know what the weird thing is? I’ve known Mia for about eight years, and I’ve liked her for three of those years, but her bodyguard finds out that I love Mia before she does.

"Michael, I couldn’t help but ask…," Lars said, almost hesitantly.

"Yeah?" I said, looking up at Lars (He’s really, really tall…and I’m 6’1").

"I have just noticed you staring…at Amelia quite a lot and…" My cheeks turned bright red at this. I didn’t even have to look into a mirror to know this; my cheeks were literally burning up. I sort of coughed nervously.

"Y-Yeah?" I said again, more nervously this time.

"Do you like the Princess, Michael? Amelia…er, Mia, I mean?" Lars said. I sort of mumbled something (even I don’t know what I said). Lars looked at me knowingly.

"Yes, I thought so," He said.

"Uh…you’re not going to tell her, are you?" I said, my cheeks still red.

"What? Oh, no. No, of course not. I’ll keep this little chat confidential," Lars said. And with a wink, he walked back to Mia. And I couldn’t help but think he had acted a bit un-bodyguard-like.

Which wasn’t so bad.

Friday, October 17, Homeroom

Lana Weinberger and Josh Richter, formerly AEHS’ hottest couple (I personally don’t see it), are no more.

As in, they broke up.

Paul, who’s always "up with the gossip," told me that Josh broke up with Lana last night after crew practice. They were having dinner together at the Hard Rock Café when he asked her for his class ring back.

Way to go, Josh. Ask for your man-jewelry back.

Friday Night

I hate my life.

Hate it, hate it, hate it.

And you know why? Josh Richter asked Mia to the Cultural Diversity Dance, which is tomorrow.

JOSH ASKED MIA TO THE CULTURAL DIVERSITY DANCE!!

If only I had had the courage to ask her before. But no…

You snooze, you lose. I’ve been hearing that throughout my entire life but I’ve never really understood it until now.

We were in G & T when Mia and Lilly started arguing.

I hadn’t heard the news yet so I didn’t bother listening in.

Until I heard Lilly exclaim, "Well, at least I know Boris isn’t on the rebound."

This caught my interest so I sort of stopped listening to Adam Green through my headphones.

Then Mia said, "Josh isn’t on the rebound. He was broken up with Lana sixteen whole hours before he asked me."

And then I felt like my heart was getting stomped on by Mia’s combat boots.

No, any possible hope that Mia might like (even love) me back was crushed as soon as she started defending Josh.

"Plus Boris doesn’t do drugs."

After a few minutes or two, I looked at Lars and said, "You’re going, too, right?" I meant the dance.

"Oh, yes," Lars said and we exchanged a look.

This didn’t make me feel any better though.

Chapter Eight: I Feel Like I’m Falling

Chapter Eight: I Feel Like I’m Falling

A/N: Happy is the adjective I would use to describe me right now. So review and make me even happier! Tee-hee! P

Wednesday, October 15, Homeroom

PRINCESS AMELIA: New York’s Very Own Royal

Yes, that’s right.

And it’s the same "Amelia" that we all know and love.

Mia, object of my affection, is…she’s a…

PRINCESS!!

Princess of Genovia, more specifically.

I should’ve known that something was wrong when the groups of people that usually smoke or sit on Joe, the school mascot (he’s not an animal though—just a stone lion) where clustered in these little groups, talking amongst themselves. I soon found Felix conversing with some junior named Tammy or something.

"What’s up?" I said. "Why’s everyone so…talkative today?" Felix literally shoved the latest New York Post into my face. I read the headline and my jaw dropped almost instantly. I heard the talking getting even louder when I saw Mia pull up in her limo.

No wonder why she has a limo and a bodyguard!

Mia Thermopolis is the Princess of Genovia.

Apparently, Mia is "the statuesque beauty who is the product of Helen and Phillipe’s tempestuous whirlwind college romance." Well, I can agree with that.

"Dude, isn’t Ameliabest friends with Lilly?" Felix said.

"Yes. And her name is Mia." Actually, her name is Amelia but no one ever calls her that.

Except, maybe, Lana Weinberger.

I continued reading and my eyes widened.

"Phillipe, the crown prince of Genovia, has a total personal worth which, including real estate property and the palace’s art collection, is estimated at over three hundred million dollars," I murmured, transfixed.

"Whoa, she’s loaded," Felix said, sounding fascinated. I shot him a disgruntled look and took off, newspaper still in hand. I wondered if Mia knew that her face was plastered on the cover of the Post. It’s a rather nice picture of her; she’s smiling but not at the camera.

Maybe I can cut it out and stick on my wall.

Wow. I’ve turned into an obsessed stalker now.

That’s one to tell the family.

Later on Wednesday

I was finally able to talk to Mia during G & T today.

Unfortunately, Lilly had to butt in where she was not wanted.

Mia: Hi, Michael. I did all those problems you gave me. But I still don’t see why you couldn’t just look at the train schedule to find out what time a train traveling 67 miles per hour will arrive in Fargo, North Dakota, if it leaves Salt Lake City at 7 A.M.

So, she didn’t want to talk about the Princess thing. But, I know, she’s not interested in Algebra and probably never will be. But I had to ask her about it, of course.

Me: So. Princess of Genovia, huh? Were you ever going to share that little piece of info with the group, or were we all supposed to guess?

Mia: I was kind of hoping no one would find out.

Um, hello? If you’re a freaking princess, of course people are going to find out.

Wow. What’s wrong with me?

Me: Well, that’s obvious. I don’t see why, though. It’s not like it’s a bad thing.

Mia: Are you kidding me? Of course it’s bad!

Me: Did you read the article in today’s Post, Thermopolis?

Mia: No way. I’m not going to read that trash. I don’t know who this Carol Fernandez thinks she is, but—

And this is where Lilly got involved.

She’s so nosy sometimes. As if that were hard to believe.

Lilly: So you’re not aware that the crown prince of Genovia—namely, your father—has a total personal worth which, including real estate property and the palace’s art collection, is estimated at over three hundred million dollars?

Mia: Um…

And then Lilly started getting really bitchy.

Lilly: I wonder how much of that fortune was amassed by taking advantage of the sweat of the common laborer.

Me: Considering that the people of Genovia have traditionally never paid income or property taxes, I would say none of it. What is with you, Lil?

And I know how much "Lil" annoys her. But she didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by it.

Lilly: Well, if you want to tolerate the excesses of the monarchy, you can be my guest, Michael. But I happen to think it’s disgusting, with the world economy in the state it’s in today, for anyone to have a total worth of three hundred million dollars…especially someone who never did a day’s work for it!

Ever heard of Bill Gates, Lil? He’s worth billions.

Plus, I’ve read so much about Genovia and the monarchy. And Mia’s father does work hard for his country.

Me: Pardon me, Lilly, but it’s my understanding that Mia’s father works extremely hard for his country. His father’s historic pledge, after Mussolini’s forces invaded in 1939, to exercise the rights of sovereignty in accordance with the political and economic interests of neighboring France in exchange for military and naval protection in the war might have tied the hands down of a lesser politician, but Mia’s father has managed to work around that agreement. His efforts have resulted in a nation that has the highest literacy rate in Europe, some of the best educational attainment rates, and the lowest infant morality rate, inflation, and unemployment rates in the Western Hemisphere.

And I said all of that without taking a breath. Mia looked kind of impressed, I noticed. She just stared at me.

Which I hoped was a good thing.

Fortunately, Lilly couldn’t answer with something decent to my opposition to her remarks.

Lilly: (to me) Shut up. (to Mia) I see they already have you spouting off their populist propaganda like a good little girl.

I honestly felt like smacking her by that point.

But how would that have looked?

Self-control, Moscovitz. Self-control.

Mia: Me? Michael’s the one who—

Me: Aw, Lilly, you’re just jealous.

Lilly: I am not!

And it was so, so obvious that she was.

Me: Yes, you are. You’re just jealous because she got her hair cut without consulting you. You’re jealous because you stopped talking to her and she went out and got a new friend. And you’re jealous because all this time Mia’s had a secret that she didn’t tell you.

Lilly: Michael, SHUT UP!

She was looking especially pug-like at that moment.

And suddenly, Boris leaned out of the supply closet.

Boris: Lilly? Did you say something?

Lilly: I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU, BORIS!

Boris: Sorry. (gets back into the closet)

Lilly: (extremely angrily) Gosh, Michael, you sure are quick to come to Mia’s defense all of a sudden. I wonder if maybe it ever occurred to you that your argument, while ostensibly based on logic, might have less intellectual than libidinous roots.

I turned bright red at this. Not at her simple words as much as the fact of what she had said was true.

Me: Well, what about your persecution of the Hos? Is that rooted in intellectual reasoning? Or is it more an example of vanity run amok?

Lilly: That’s a circular argument.

Me: It isn’t. It’s empirical.

I noticed that Mia was watching us argue with a sort of dazed look on her face. And then I also noticed that we (Lilly and me) had been doing nearly all of the arguing and Mia had yet to say something.

Me: (turning to Mia) So does this guy (I pointed at her bodyguard) have to follow you around everywhere from now on?

Mia: Yes.

Me: Really? Everywhere?

Mia: Everywhere except the ladies’ room. Then he waits outside.

I can totally imagine her bodyguard standing in the middle of the ladies’ room, amid the scantily clad, over-powered women at the local pizza parlor.

But then I realized that maybe this guy would follow her around…the Cultural Diversity Dance, so to speak.

Me: What if you were to go on a date? Like to the Cultural Diversity Dance this weekend?

Mia: That hasn’t exactly been an issue, considering that no one’s asked me.

If she hadn’t run out on me during my tutoring session with her the other day, maybe I could have been able to.

Ask her, I mean.

Boris: Excuse me. I accidentally knocked over a bottle of rubber cement with my bow, and it’s getting hard to breathe. Can I come out now?

Everyone in the G & T room: NO!!

I kind of feel bad for Boris. But then I remember how he is idiotic enough to date my sister.

Mrs. Hill: (poking her head in from the hallway) What’s all this noise in here? We can hardly hear ourselves think in the teachers’ lounge. Boris, why are you in the supply closet? Come out now, Everybody else, get back to work!

Work was just about the last thing on my mind.