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.

Chapter Seven: you’re a sun child

The Crackhead Chronicles

Chapter Seven: you’re a sun child

A/N: Okay, serious lack of reviews. Oh, and Fizzie-lizzie, what typo? If you’re talking about his age, I was reading Princess in Pink and it stated that Michael was seventeen. So, that was after his birthday and so I really need to correct Crackhead in Love. Please review, even if it’s negative!

Monday, October 13, lunch

Lilly is a mad, mad woman.

Girl, I mean.

The whole school is plastered with Boycott Ho’s Deli posters.

BOYCOTT HO’S DELI!

SIGN BELOW AND TAKE A STAND AGAINST RACISM!

The hell I will.

I feel so bad for Mia. Since her fight with Lilly, she’s been walking around…all alone.

Oh wait, she’s sitting with that girl with the bodyguard. Tina? Or something? She’s the daughter of this really wealthy oil well owner. I think.

Okay, Tina has gotten up from the table and Mia is now reading the back of Tina’s book. She’s looking pretty lonely.

I wish I could get the courage to go sit with her. But then she’d know that I like her.

And now Lana Weinberger, Josh Richter, and their "posse" are by Mia.

Lana’s probably being a bitch. Not that she’s ever not one.

Five Minutes Later

I saw Lana touch Mia’s head. And I was awfully curious why.

Then, Tina and her bodyguard came back and Tina handed Mia an ice cream cone.

Lana must’ve said something really horrible because the next thing I knew…well…

That Nutty Royale was on Lana’s sweater.

And literally everyone saw this happen. And no one was talking.

It was a rather eerie silence.

Then Lana screamed, "You—You—" Mia seemed overwhelmed by what she had just done. "You—You…Look what you’ve done to my sweater! Look what you’ve done to my sweater!"

Then, Mia rose from her seat and Tina and her bodyguard followed.

As Mia left, I started clapping. Some of my fellow Computer Club members clapped too.

But she didn’t turn back.

Monday, October 13, G & T

Mia is in the principal’s office now.

Guess that the news of the Nutty Royale got around.

I was telling her that how she subtracts is all wrong. Really, her main problem was not writing her numbers neat enough. Plus, she doesn’t keep her notes very organized and she just scribbles them in random places. I informed her that she should keep her Algebra notes in one notebook.

Also, she seems to have some trouble with concentrating.

I was fully, fully aware of my hand touching hers whenever I pulled her pencil away and said, "No, like this, Mia."

Notice that I said Mia. Not Thermopolis.

Halfway through the tutoring, my knee gently touched hers.

And I could feel my heart rate steadily pacing.

But I don’t think I made too big of a fool out of myself.

Hopefully.

Later on Monday

I just really remembered that the Cultural Diversity Dance is this Saturday.

The one question tugging my mind is:

Does Mia have a date to the dance??

Normally, I would be opposed to going to the dance.

They’re just not my thing.

But it would be pretty cool to be there…with Mia…

Yes. Definitely.

You know, I think I’m going to be brave for once.

I’ll ask Mia to the dance.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding?

Tuesday, October 14

Today in G & T, I complimented Mia on her handling of the whole Weinberger Incident, as I call it.

"It’s all over school. How you decimated Lana in front of Josh, I mean," I said, smiling. "Your locker is right next to Josh’s, isn’t it?"

"Yes, it is," Mia said. Her gray eyes were looking even more beautiful than usual. Which I didn’t think was possible. I said how that must’ve been awkward but she said not really, since Lana seemed to be avoiding that area lately and Josh never talked to her anyway.

But then she said, "Is Lilly still saying mean things about me?"

"She’s never said mean things about you. She just doesn’t understand why you blew up at her like that.

"Michael, she’s always putting me down! I just couldn’t take it anymore. I have too many other problems without having friends who aren’t supportive of me."

I laughed. "What kind of problems could you have?" And, I mean, it’s true.

Mia’s just not one to have too many problems.

"I’m flunking Algebra, I have detention for a week, and I recently woke up to see Mr. Gianini in his boxer shorts eating breakfast with my mom," Mia said without stopping for air.

"I guess you do have some problems after all." Then I noticed Mia staring past me, probably at Lilly. Or Boris.

I’d rather think that she was looking at Lilly.

Then, I figured that it was the time…I needed to be assertive to get what…or rather who…I wanted.

"So, are you grounded?"

She gave me a funny look. "You mean for getting detention? No, of course not. My mom is totally on my side. My dad wants to sue the school." I took a breath and looked her straight in the eye.

"Oh. Well, I was wondering because, if you aren’t busy Saturday, I thought maybe we could—"

But then Mrs. Hill just had to come in and ask us all to fill out these questionnaires for the Ph.D. she is doing on youth violence. And then the bell rang and Mia ran out, looking pretty anxious to leave.

I felt my heart drop; she probably wanted to avoid rejecting me all together so she wouldn’t have to hurt my feelings.

And that is because she is the sweetest girl I have ever known.

And that is why I love her.

Wow, now that I have really admitted it to myself, maybe I can admit my affections to her.

Yes. In a few years.

Or not.

Chapter Six: The Moon Never Sleeps

The Crackhead Chronicles

Chapter Six: The Moon Never Sleeps

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you! Ahh. Thank you all so, so much for your reviews. D

Sunday, October 12, late

Lilly won’t shut up about the "racism happenings at Ho’s Deli."

She’s making such a big deal out of five freaking cents.

I honestly do not know why we’re even related. Maybe my real sister was mixed up with Lilly.

But no, I get a perfectly hostile, selfish, idiotic sister. Named Lilly.

"I can’t believe Mia! I don’t know what’s wrong with her these days!" Lilly exclaimed angrily. "Ever since her dad came, she’s been acting like a total head case!"

"What is this all about anyway?" I said. "Are you just mad at her because she won’t support your Ho’s Deli thing?"

"The Hos are just as bad as the Nazis! Racism gets you nowhere!"

"Lilly! The Hos aren’t even a little bit like the Nazis," I said, sounding frustrated.

"It’s the principle of the thing, Michael!" Lilly barked back. "Where would we be if we continue to let racist actions take place in our own neighborhoods!?" I just shook my head and left her standing. I swear, sometimes I feel like kicking her or something. But that stopped at age thirteen. I’m a mature almost-adult.

I am a sixteen-year-old. I will not resort to violence to solve conflict.

Though it’s hard to resist. And I mean HARD.

Anyway, I just talked to Mia online.

Yes, Mia. Not Judith, not Kenny, not Felix…

Mia.

CracKing: Hey Thermopolis. What happened to you last night? It’s like you went mental, or something.

Well, she kind of did.

FtLouie: For your information, I did not go mental. I just got tired of your sister always telling me what to do. Not that it’s any of your business.

But, Mia, I want to make it my business. I want to be there for you. I want to protect you from my evil sister. I want to be the Han Solo to your Princess Leia. The Spike to your Buffy.

Well, actually, Buffy never really loved Spike so forget that part.

CracKing: What are you being so snotty about? Of course it’s my business. I live with her, don’t I?

Painfully true.

FtLouie: Why? Is she talking about me?

CracKing: You could say that.

FtLouie: What’s she saying?

CracKing: I thought it wasn’t any of my business.

FtLouie: It isn’t. What’s she saying about me?

I didn’t want to be too blunt. And hurt her feelings.

CracKing: That she doesn’t know what’s wrong with you these days, but ever since your dad came to visit you’ve been acting like a head case.

FtLouie: Me? A head case? What about her? She’s the one who’s always criticizing me. I’m so sick of it!! If she wants to be my friend, why can’t she accept me the way I am??

CracKing: No need to yell.

FtLouie: I’m not yelling!!

Um. Yes you are.

CracKing: You’re using excessive amounts of punctuation, and on-line, that’s like yelling. Besides, she’s not the only one criticizing. She says you won’t support her boycott of Ho’s Deli.

WHAT THE HELL?!

Was I defending Lilly?

FtLouie: Well, she’s right. I won’t. It’s stupid. Don’t you think it’s stupid?

HELL YES!!

I then figured that we should stop talking about Lilly and more about…us.

No! Her algebra. That’s part of my brilliant plan, you see. Get closer to Mia by offering to tutor her in Algebra.

Subtle but not too subtle.

CracKing: Sure it’s stupid. Are you still flunking Algebra?

I now realize how random that must’ve sounded.

FtLouie: I guess so. But considering the fact that Mr. G slept over last night, I’ll probably scrape by with a D. Why?

CracKing: What? Mr. G slept over? At your place? What was that like?

FtLouie: It was pretty awful. But then he joked around, and made it okay. I don’t know. I should probably be more mad, but my mom’s so happy, it’s hard.

CracKing: Your mom could so a lot worse than Mr. G. Imagine if she was going out with Mr. Stuart.

Mr. Stuart is the sophomore Health teacher. He spends most of his days attempting to feel girls’ bra straps.

And just feeling girls in general.

FtLouie: Ha ha ha. Why’d you want to know whether or not I’m flunking Algebra?

I took a deep breath before replying. It needed to sound extremely nonchalant.

CracKing: Oh, because I’m done with this month’s issue of Crackhead, and I thought if you wanted, I could tutor you during G & T. If you wanted.

FtLouie: Wow, that would be great! Thanks!

The biggest grin was on my face by that point.

CracKing: Don’t mention it. Hang in there, Thermopolis.

The Moscovitz strikes again!

A/N: Please review! Sorry that the chapter was so short, though.

Chapter Five: Waste of Paint

The Crackhead Chronicles

Chapter Five: Waste of Paint A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner. Not much of a creative inspiration for this story—though my other story is coming along well (four chapters…OK, not much but still…). Thanks for all of your reviews! D

Thursday, October 9

I’m feeling really lonely right now.

I mean, there’s no wonder why: I don’t really have many friends out of the Computer Club and I don’t have a girlfriend. Hell, I’ve only kissed two or three girls in my sixteen years. Nothing farther than that.

I am going to die a virgin. I’m almost sure of it. I’ll end up old and alone, being tortured in a retirement home. And I’ll spend my days playing chess by myself or playing…bingo or something.

Note to self: GET A LIFE.

Friday, October 10, 5 p.m.

Oh my Lord.

I was walking with the rest of the Computer Club to the computer room, where we usually have our meetings, when I ran face first into Mia. Yes. Mia. I didn’t see her face at first and I wondered who I had bumped into when I looked up into Mia’s face and saw war paint smeared on her face.

Yes. War paint. Or, rather, makeup.

"Christ, Thermopolis," I said, as Mia started trying to quickly pick up all of the stuff she had dropped when we literally ran into each other. "What happened to you?" And I was generally curious.

Let me tell you: Mia’s not usually one to wear lipstick or whatever it is.

Mia must have understood me wrong because she said, "You know I have to meet with Mr. Gianini everyday after school because I’m flunking Alge—"

"I know that." I held up the lipstick that had come out of her backpack. "I mean what’s with the war paint?" She took it away from me, gently brushing her fingers against mine. And I kind of felt nervous by that point.

"Nothing. Don’t tell Lilly."

"Don’t tell Lilly what? Jesus, Thermopolis. Where are you going?" She stood up and that’s when I noticed the pantyhose. Ah, sick thoughts, Moscovitz! SICK THOUGHTS!

"Nowhere."

"Nobody goes nowhere looking like that." I shifted my laptop to my left arm when I suddenly realized where she might be going. And I felt sick to my stomach. I probably looked it too.

"Thermopolis, are you going out on a date?"

"What? No, I’m not going on a date!" Mia exclaimed, looking genuinely surprised. "I’m meeting my grandmother!" I didn’t believe her of course. I mean, who wears pantyhose and war paint to meet their grandmother?

"And do you usually wear lipstick and pantyhose to meet your grandmother?"

I heard someone coughing. Mia turned around and there was this sort of big, muscular guy apparently waiting for her by the door. And I was thinking: Is that who’s she going out with??

"Look, don’t tell Lilly, okay?" And then she ran off.

Smooth moves, Moscovitz.

Friday, October 10, 6:15 p.m.

I was actually desperate enough to ask Lilly about Mia.

I walked into the kitchen (with a shirt on, thank you!) and saw Lilly sitting at the counter, flipping through some magazine.

"Lilly," I said.

"What?" Lilly asked, not looking up from magazine.

"Um…Mia’s not going out with anyone, is she?"

"Why do you care?" Lilly said grumpily.

"I don’t," I said, just as nastily. "I was just curious."

"Right. I am so sure." I rolled my eyes. "Well, she isn’t. Dating anyone, I mean. If she was, she wouldn’t be so nervous or uptight."

So, I just got a pint of Chunky Monkey and got out of there.

But I can’t help but think that maybe Lilly is lying.

Please God…please let what she said have been the truth.

Please.

Saturday, October 11

Woah.

And I thought the war paint was…different.

I had just finished my bowl of cereal when I heard quiet yelling (well, not exactly yelling) coming from the living room. I recognized Mia’s voice and quickly ditched the shirt. I entered the room right when Mia said something I have never heard her say before.

"Lilly, shut up."

And I was particularly amazed. I don’t think she had ever told anyone to shut up until earlier today. And to her supposed best friend too. Not that Lilly never says that. No, but Lilly isn’t as nice and sweet as Mia.

No, scratch that. Lilly’s never nice and sweet.

"Whoa," I said, backing up. And right after that, I noticed Mia’s hair. And it wasn’t…Mia-like, anymore. No, it had been cut pretty short and she had…had…

DYED HER HAIR THE SHADE OF LANA WEINBERGER’S.

I’m not shallow though. No. She was still as amazing as ever.

"What?" Lilly barked. "What did you say to me?"

I thought that Mia would apologize. But she just seemed to get madder. "I’m tired of you putting me down all the time. All day long, my mom and dad and grandmother and teachers are telling me what to do. I don’t need my friends getting on my case, too."

"Whoa," I said again, very shocked. But proud. She had finally stood up to Lilly.

Good someone finally did. Besides me, I mean.

"What," Lilly said, her eyes narrowing into these scary snakelike slits, "is your problem?"

"You know what? I don’t have a problem. You’re the one with the problem. You seem to have a big problem with me. Well, you know what? I’m going to solve your problem for you. I’m leaving. I never wanted to help you with your stupid Ho-Gate story anyway. The Hos are nice people. They haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t see why you have to pick on them. And"—she said this as she opened the door—"my hair is not yellow." Then she left, sort of slamming the door.

"What was that all about?" I said, looking at Lilly. She shot me a glare and angrily left the room.

And I was left alone. Shirtless.

A/N: You know what to do. )

Chapter Two: Confessions of a Beautiful Mind

The Crackhead Chronicles

Chapter Two: Confessions of a Beautiful Mind

A/N: Quite possibly, my expectations were much too high. But thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Sunday, September 28

Last night wasn’t as bad as I thought it might have been. I met Judith and the rest of the Computer Club at the entrance of the dollar theater. We all paid for our tickets and found seats in the middle of the theater. The theater was more crowded than I had expected, most people choosing to sit in the front rows. I sat down with Judith on my left and this tall junior, Paul, on my right.

Throughout the movie, I couldn’t help but notice that Judith kept looking at me with her big, bulbous, brown eyes. I tried to ignore it but she was making it pretty obvious. As I watched Goldfinger, I felt someone’s fingers touching my knee. For a split second, I thought it might’ve been Paul…but he had a girlfriend. So, that’s when I turned to Judith and she was smiling eerily at me.

Not to make it too obvious, I slowly slid my leg away, toward Paul’s direction. Paul must’ve noticed this because he shot me a weird look. I realized that he might’ve thought that I was trying to…snuggle with him or something.

AHHHH.

So, Judith likes trying to feel me up or something and Paul must think I have homosexual tendencies. Perfect. Just plain perfect.

The movie, which I’ve seen fifteen times and counting, was excellent, of course. Afterward, we all went to Around the Clock for some pancakes. They make awesome (and cheap) pancakes…around the clock. I managed not to sit next to Judith because I thought she might try to caress me again. As I sat between Suzanne Chang and Shaun Waldorf, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift onto the thought of Mia.

I don’t know how pancakes make me think of Mia but they do. Maybe it was that one time when we (Lilly, Mia, and me) were all sitting, eating chocolate chip pancakes on a Saturday morning, when Mia and I both stabbed at the same pancake at the same time. I insisted that she have it and she insisted that I have it. So, we just split it, earning a weird look from Lilly.

And how do I remember that, especially considering the fact that the pancake thing happened when I was…thirteen? But I didn’t have a crush on Mia yet. No, I still liked Samantha Baker. I honestly don’t know what I ever found likable in Samantha. She was a shallow, self-centered cheerleader. Kind of like Gwen Shayne. I used to offer to carry her books and walk her home (Samantha’s, that is).

I’m kind of glad that she started going out with Josh Richter because I finally realized what a bad match we might have been. And I noticed that Josh never offered to carry her books. But, then again, Josh and I are not, and never will be, alike. Thank God.

Josh is the guy I’ve never wanted to be. He’s popular, superficial, artificial, unintelligent…and a jock. I’m not into organized sports at all (I was once on a Pee Wee hockey team though). And being popular doesn’t make him well liked or respected…he’s just well known throughout AEHS. He’s never without a girlfriend and has gone through all of the cheerleaders, currently dating a freshman named Lana Weinberger (she’s the JV cheerleading team captain, I think). Josh is the kind of guy that you usually want or want to be. And I feel negative both ways.

As soon as we paid the bill for our three stacks of pancakes, we all departed from Around the Clock. Not before Judith pulled me aside to talk to me though.

Judith: Hey, Michael…Um. Tonight was really great.

Me: Oh. Yeah. I guess so.

Judith: We should really go out…for pancakes again, I mean.

Me: You mean, just the two of us?

Judith: (her face flushed) W-what? No. I meant with the Computer Club.

Me: Oh. Right. (not really believing her)

Judith: So, see you on Monday?

Me: Yeah. Bye. (starts walking away)

Why can’t she just leave me in my miserable state of mind?

Monday, September 29, History

You know what…or rather, who, I’m thinking about right now?

If you guessed Mia Thermopolis, you would be correct!

When I think of Mia, everything but the image of her glowing face is erased from my mind. And, if I’m feeling sad or mad at that moment, every horrible thought turns into happy, bright ones filled with me and Mia waltzing in a flower garden, the wind blowing through our hair.

I did not just write that.

Wednesday, October 1, G&T

Mrs. Hill is actually in the classroom. Wow. The teacher’s lounge (where Mrs. Hill usually retreats to during fifth period) is having its carpet shampooed; Mrs. Hill is looking through a furniture catalog while looking up every once and awhile to see if we’re all doing…what we’re supposed to be doing. So, I’m stuck working on Crackhead, Boris is busy driving us all insane with his violin-playing, and it seems that Lilly and Mia are passing notes.

I wonder what they’re writing. In fact, I’m bored enough to make a fake "notes conversation."

Lilly—Oh my God, your brother is SO hot!

Mia, I’m only going to ruin your thoughts because I’m bossy and impatient, and I love ignoring people’s opinions and thoughts. Ugh. How gross.

I wonder if he already has a girlfriend.

Michael’s one popular guy with the ladies but now, he’s single. But he’s also the sweetest, smartest guy to have ever walked the planet.

Do you think I should go up to him and start making out with him? He’s one hot piece of ass.

Yeah, in my wildest dreams.

A/N: So, what did you think? Please review!

Chapter One: Oh, What a Day

The Crackhead Chronicles

Chapter One: Oh, What a Day!

A/N: I’m ba-ack…sinister piano music Well, I have decided to do Michael’s POV throughout the first Princess Diaries book and, since Michael isn’t in the original book that much, I’ll have a lot of creative input. But, sadly, in addition to my newfound input, the updates may take a bit longer than with Crackhead In Love. I hope you all like it! D

Thursday, September 25

I think I like Mia.

No, not only think: I do like Mia. Out of all of the girls at Albert Einstein High School, why did I have to develop a crush on my little sister’s best friend? I mean, I’m a regular guy and she’s a regular girl.

No…she’s far from being a regular girl. She’s just…different from all of the girls at AEHS. Unlike girls like Lana Weinberger, Mia isn’t obsessed with her looks and she’s just…not like the snobby cheerleaders.

And, of course, I cannot let anyone know of my feelings for Mia. Not Lilly. Not Felix. Not Judith. Not Mia. Definitely not Lilly. There are many pros and cons to liking Mia. I get to see her all of the time because she comes over a few times a week and sleeps over (and I "forget"to put a shirt on whenever she comes over…heh heh). I could never tell Lilly though. But, then again, why would I ever tell Lilly? We don’t exactly have the best relationship. We argue constantly, like brothers and sisters are supposed to, I guess. Plus, she would tell Mia and then Mia would probably freak out and stop coming to the apartment. And that would suck.

Mia came over today and I found out some really interesting news. I was looking for something to eat in the refrigerator when Mia starts talking about how her mom is going out with Mr. Gianni, the freshman Algebra teacher. Oh yes, that’s another thing: Mia’s a freshman and I’m a senior. The moment I heard my parents asking Mia how she felt about her mom going out with her teacher, I started laughing. Not quietly, either.

"Your mom is dating Frank Gianni?" I managed to say through my laughs. She then started begging me not to tell anyone. She looked so gorgeous and pleading, I found it kind of hard to resist…hugging her or something. She’s such a beautiful, different girl. She’s not your cookie-cutter beautiful but still…wow. And I get to see her during Gifted and Talented class, which isn’t really much of a class so much as a period to hang out and talk. I’m supposed to use the fifth period to work on my webzine, Crackhead. Mia uses it to work on her Algebra homework. Despite my utter affection for her (ha ha), Mia does have some flaws. But, doesn’t everyone?

We have some things in common, including our uniting against this new Russian student, Boris Pelkowsi, and his violin. I heard that he played in Carnegie Hall when he was twelve and is some sort of music genius. Cool.

"What’ll you do for me, huh, Thermopolis?" I said, a smirk on my face. "What’ll you do for me?" After a few moments of this and her offering to do things like walk my sheltie, Pavlov, and take my Mom’s empty Tab cans to Gristedes, I just sort of rolled my eyes.

"Forget it, okay, Thermopolis?" And I walked back to my room, heavily disappointed. I would’ve very much wanted for her to suggest making out with me or something (sorry, sorry, hormones are taking over my seventeen year old mind) but I guess that my crush on her is unrequited.

I started teaching myself to play the guitar over the summer and everything sort of progressed from there. Thank God for soundproof walls and windows. I’ve written about six songs, all of them being about Mia, of course. The first song I wrote about her is called, "Tall Drink of Water" and it isn’t too bad if I do say so myself. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get the courage to sing it to her someday.

Ha, I wish.

Friday, September 26

MICHAEL MOSCOVITZ’S LIST OF HOTTEST GIRLS

(compiled during English Lit, with commentary by Felix Matthews)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (agree—but dude, Buffy’s a fictional character made up for the horrible movie and the excellent TV series, starring Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy)

Xena the Warrior Princess (disagree—something about Lucy Lawless bugs me, like the fact she reminds me of that wrestler Chyna or whatever. And, again, a fictional character made for a TV series. The girl who played Gabrielle was pretty fine though)

Natalie Portman (agree—I mean, she was in two Stars Wars movies after all)

Tyra Banks (agree—hell yeah! I am a testosterone-filled teenage male, after all)

Jessica Biel (agree—she may have been on 7th Heaven but she’s still hot)

Julia Stiles (agree—I haven’t seen any of her movies but she is hot…maybe you’ll see her at Columbia. Or she may have graduated by that time)

Rogue from X-Men (disagree—DUDE! She’s a cartoon character!)

Mademoiselle Klein (agree—she could whisper French profanity into my ear and I’d still think she was gorgeous)

Tennessee from The Like (WHO??)

Lucy Liu (agree—Charlie’s Angels was…wow)

Friday, September 26, 6 p.m.

If I could have chosen, Mia would’ve been at the top of my "Hottest Girls List" (which, really, was rather superficial and shallow of me to make but Felix and I were bored). But I, of course, couldn’t let Felix know this. He may be one of my closest friends but he’s also the male equivalent of…my sister (but Felix is much more tolerable). He’s a kind of loud, very opinionated person.

I’ve been trying to find inspiration for Crackhead and my songs. My muse is, obviously, Mia. For Crackhead, I tend to steer into the less, erm, personal matters and delve deep into political issues concerning teenagers. But not only teenagers…otherwise, I wouldn’t have sponsors. I guess Lilly and I are more alike than I had thought. We both have opinions on things, though our thoughts clash most of the time.

My music is neither light and poppy nor dark and depressing. I’d consider it to be classified as steering into the music range concerning love (well, actually, most songs are about love, if not all). I think the thing I’m going for is making music that is catchy and people can enjoy. Not Britney Spears catchy though.

Oh, God, that’d be scary.

Saturday, September 27, 3:50 p.m.

Judith just called me.

Me: Hello?

Judith: Hi. How are you, Michael?

Me: Um. Good.

Judith: Cool.

Me: (brief pause) Yeah. Uh, who is this?

Judith: OH! This is Judith. Judith Gersher…you know…

Me: Oh, hey, Judith. What’s up? Did you want to talk about something concerning the Computer Club?

Judith: Oh, no. I was, um, wondering if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. With the rest of the Computer Club, I mean.

Me: Oh. Sounds…fun.

Judith: So, you want to come?

Me: Yeah, I guess so. Sure.

Judith: Really?

Me: Um. Yes.

Judith: OK, meet us at the entrance to the dollar theater. Goldfinger is playing at 7 so be there around 6:45.

Me: OK. Bye.

Judith: Bye.

Well, I guess I actually have something to do tonight. Wow.

A/N: Yes, I know…extremely boring, right? It’ll get better…hopefully (heh heh). Please review! )