Third Time Lucky pd-3

by Meg Cabot

  will not know what to do.

  Seriously.

  Take kissing, for instance, I have only ever kissed one person before, and that's Kenny. I cannot believe that what Kenny and

  I did really encompassed the whole of the kissing experience, because it certainly wasn't as fun as people always make it look on TV.

  This is a very disturbing thought and has led me to an equally disturbing conclusion: I know very little about kissing.

  In fact, it seems to me that if I am going to be doing any kissing with anybody, I should get some advice beforehand. From a kissing expert, I mean.

  Which is why I am consulting Tina Hakim Baba. She may not be allowed to wear make-up to school, but she has been kissing Dave Farouq El-Abar - who goes to Trinity -for close to three months now, AND liking it, so I consider her an expert on the subject.

  I am enclosing the results of this highly scientific document for future reference:

  Tina — I need to know about kissing. Can you phase answer each of the following questions IN DETAIL????

  And DO NOT show this to anyone!!!! DO NOT lose this paper!!!! -Mia

  1. Can a boy tell if the person he is with is inexperienced? How does an inexperienced kisser kiss (so I can avoid that)?

  Mia — the moment you have been waiting for. The guy way sense a feeling of nervousness coming from you, or that you are uneasy, but everyone is nervous when they are kissing someone new. It's natural! But kissing is easy to catch onto — believe me! An inexperienced kisser might break away too soon because he or she is scared or whatever. But that is normal It's weird, kissing someone for the first time. It's SUPPOSED to be weird. That's what makes it fun.

  2. Is there such a thing as a great kisser? If so, what are the qualifications? (So I know what to practise.)

  Yes, there is such a thing as a good kisser. A good kisser is always affectionate and gentle and patient and not demanding.

  3. How much pressure do you exert on his lips? I mean, do you push or, like in a handshake, are you just supposed to be firm? Or are you just supposed to stand there and let him do all the work?

  if you want a gentle kiss (a caring one) don't apply too wuch pressure (this is also true if he is wearing braces — you don't want to cause any lacerations). If you give a guy a 'harsh' kiss (too much pressure), he might think you are desperate or that you want to go further than you probably do. Of course you aren't supposed to just stand there and let him do all the work: kiss him back! But always kiss him the way YOU want to be kissed. That is how guys leant, if we didn't show them how to do everything, we'd never get anywhere!

  4. How do you know when it's time to stop?

  Stop when he stops, or when you feel like you've had enough, or don't want to go any further. Simply and gently (so you don't freak him out) move your head back or if the moment is right,

  you can change the kiss into a hug then step back.

  5. If you are in love with him is it still gross?

  Of course not! Kissing is never gross! Well, OK, I guess I could see that maybe with Kenny, it might be. It is always better with someone you actually like. Of course, even with someone you really like, sometimes kissing can be gross. Once Dave licked me on the chin, and I was all, get away. But I think that was by accident (the licking).

  6. If he is in love with you, does he even care if you are bad? (Define bad kisser. See above.)

  if the guy likes/loves you, he won't care if you are a good kisser or not. In fact, even if you are a bad kisser, he will probably think you are a good one. And vice-versa. He should like you for what you are— not how you kiss.

  DEFINITION OF BAD KISSER: A bad kisser is someone who gets your face all wet, slobbers on you, sticks his tongue in when you're not ready, has bad breath, OR sometimes there can be kissers whose tongues are all dry and prickly like a cactus but I have never experienced one of those, just heard about them.

  7. When do you know if it's time to open your mouth (thus turning it into a French)?

  You will probably feel his tongue touch your lips, if you want to pursue the idea, open your lips a little, if not, keep them closed. Coming domain — Chapter II: How to French!!!!

  Homework:

  Algebra: review questions at the end of Chapters 8-10

  English: English Journal: Books I Have Read

  World Civ.: review questions at the end of Chapters 10-12

  G & T: none

  French: review questions at the end of Chapters 7-9

  Biology: review questions at the end of Chapters 9—12

  Wednesday, December 9, 9 p.m.,

  in the Limo Home from Grandmere's

  I am so tired I can hardly write. Grandmere made me try on every single dress in Sebastiano's showroom. You wouldn't believe the number of dresses I've had on today. Short ones, long ones, straight-skirted ones and poofy-skirted ones, white ones, pink ones, blue ones, and even a lime-green one (which Sebastiano declared brought out the 'col' in my cheeks).

  The purpose of all this dress-trying-on business was to choose one to wear Christmas Eve during my first official televised speech to the Genovian people. I have to look regal, but not too regal. Beautiful, but not too beautiful. Sophisticated, but not too sophisticated.

  I tell you, it was a nightmare of hollow-cheeked women in white (the new black) buttoning and zipping and snapping me in

  and out of dresses. Now I know how all those supermodels must feel. No wonder they do so many drugs.

  Actually, it was kind of hard to choose my dress for my first big televised event because, surprisingly, Sebastiano turns out to be a pretty good designer. There were several dresses I actually wouldn't be embarrassed to be caught dead in.

  Oops. Slip of the tongue. I wonder, though, if Sebastiano really does want to kill me.

  He seems to like being a fashion designer, which he couldn't do if he were Prince of Genovia: he'd be too busy turning bills

  into law and stuff like that.

  Still, you can tell he'd totally enjoy wearing a crown. Not that, as ruler of Genovia he'd ever get to do this. I've never seen

  my dad in a crown. Just suits, mainly Armani.

  And shorts when he plays racquetball with other world leaders.

  Ew, I wonder if I will have to learn to play racquetball.

  But if Sebastiano became prince of Genovia, he would totally wear a crown all the time. He told me nothing brings out the sparkles in someone's eyes like pear-shaped diamonds. He prefers Tiffany's. Or as he calls it, Tiff's.

  Since we were getting so chummy and all, I told Sebastiano about the Non-Denominational Winter Dance and how I have nothing to wear to it. Sebastiano seemed disappointed when he learned I would not be wearing a tiara to my school dance,

  but he got over it and started asking me all these questions about the event. Like 'Who do you go with?' and 'What he look like?' and stuff like that.

  I don't know what it was, but I found myself actually telling Sebastiano all about my love life. It was so weird. I totally didn't want to, but it all just started spilling out. Thank God Grandmere wasn't there . . . she'd gone off in search of more cigarettes and to have her Sidecar refreshed.

  I told Sebastiano all about Kenny and how he loves me but I don't love him, and how I actually like someone else but he doesn't know I'm alive.

  Sebastiano is really quite a good listener. I don't know how much, if anything, he understood about what I said, but he didn't take his eyes off my reflection as I talked, and when I was done he looked me up and down in the mirror and just said one thing: 'This boy you like. How you know he no like you back?'

  'Because,' I said. 'He likes this other girl.'

  Sebastiano made an impatient motion with his hands. The gesture was made more dramatic by the fact that he was wearing sleeves with these big frilly lace cuffs.

  'No, no, no, no, no,' he said. 'He help you with your Al home. He like you or he no do that. Why he do that if he no like you?'

  I thought for a minute about wh
y Michael had always been so willing to do that. Help me with my Algebra, I mean. I guess just because I am his sister's best friend and he isn't the type of person who can sit around and watch his sister's best friend flunk out of high school without, you know, at least trying to do something about it.

  While I was thinking about that, I couldn't help remembering how Michael's knees, beneath our desks, sometimes brush against mine as he's telling me about integers. Or how sometimes he leans so close to correct something I've written wrong that I can smell the nice, clean scent of his soap. Or how sometimes, like when I do my Lana Weinberger imitation or whatever, he throws back his head and laughs. Michael's lips look extra nice when he is smiling. 'Tell Sebastiano,' Sebastiano urged me. 'Tell Sebastiano why this boy helps you if he no like you.'

  I sighed. 'Because I'm his little sister's best friend,' I said sadly. Really, could there be anything more humiliating? I mean, clearly Michael has never been impressed with my keen intellect or ravishing good looks, given my low grade point average and of course my gigantism.

  Sebastiano tugged on my sleeve and went, 'You no worry. I make dress for dance. This boy, he no think of you as little sister's best friend.'

  Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Why must all my relatives be so weird?

  Anyway, we picked out what I'm going to wear for my introduction on Genovian national TV. It's this white taffeta job with a huge poofy skirt and this light-blue sash (the royal colours are blue and white). But Sebastiano had one of his assistants take photos of me in all the dresses so I can see how I look in them and then decide. I thought this was fairly professional for a guy who calls breakfast 'breck'.

  But all that isn't what I want to write about although I'm so tired I hardly know what I'm doing. What I want to write about is what happened today after Algebra review.

  Which was that Mr.Gianini, after everyone but me had left, went, 'Mia, I heard a rumour that there was supposed to be some kind of student walkout today. Had you heard that?'

  Me: (Freezing in my seat) Um, no.

  Mr Gianini: Oh. So you wouldn't know then if somebody -maybe in protest at the protest - direw the second-floor

  fire alarm? The one by the drinking fountain?

  Me: (Wishing Lars would stop coughing suggestively) Um, no.

  Mr Gianini: That's what I thought. Because you know the penalty for pulling one of the fire alarms — when there is,

  in fact, no sign of a fire - is expulsion.

  Me: Oh, yes. I know that.

  Mr Gianini: I thought you might have seen who did it, since I believe I gave you a hall pass shortly before the alarm went off.

  Me: Oh, no. I didn't see anybody.

  Except Justin Baxendale, and his smoky eyelashes. But I didn't say that.

  Mr Gianini: I didn't think so. Oh, well. If you ever hear who did it, maybe you could tell her from me never to do it again.

  Me: Um. OK.

  Mr. Gianini: And tell her thanks from me too. The last thing we need right now, with tensions running so high over Finals, is a student walkout.

  (Mr. Gianini picked up his briefcase and jacket.) See you at home.

  Then he winked at me. WINKED at me, like he knew I was the one who'd done it. But he couldn't know. I mean, he doesn't know about my nostrils (which were fully flaring the whole time; I could feel them!) Right? RIGHT????

  Thursday; December 10, Homeroom

  Lilly is going to drive me crazy.

  Seriously. Like it's not enough I have Finals and my introduction to Genovia and my love life and everything to worry about. I have to listen to Lilly complain about how the administration of Albert Einstein High is out to get her. The whole way to school this morning she just droned on and on about how it's all a plot to silence her because she once complained about the Coke machine outside the gym. Apparently, the Coke machine is indicative of the administration's efforts to turn us all into mindless soda-drinking, Gap-wearing clones.

  If you ask me, this isn't really about Coke, or the attempts by the school's administration to turn us into mindless pod-people. It's really just because Lilly's still mad she can't use a chapter of the book she's writing on the teen experience as her term paper.

  I told Lilly if she doesn't submit a new topic, she's going to get an F as her nine-week grade. Factored in with her A for the

  last nine weeks, that's only like a C, which will significantly lower her grade point average and put her chances of getting into Berkeley, which is her first-choice school, at risk. She may be forced to fall back on her safety school, Brown, which I know would be quite a blow.

  She didn't even listen to me. She says she's having an organizational meeting of this new group (of which she is president) Students Against the Corporatization of Albert Einstein High School (SACAEHS) on Saturday, and I have to come because

  I am the group's secretary. Don't ask me how that happened. Lilly says I write everything down anyway so it shouldn't be any trouble for me.

  I wish Michael had been there to defend me from his sister but, like he has every day this week, he took the subway to school early so he can work on his project for the Winter Carnival.

  I wouldn't doubt Judith Gershner has been showing up at school on the early side too, this week.

  Speaking of Michael, I picked up another greeting card, this one from the Plaza gift shop, on the way to Sebastiano's showroom last night. It's a lot better than that stupid one with the strawberry. This one has a picture of a lady holding a finger

  to her lips. Inside it says, Shhhh . . .

  Under that, I am having Tina write:

  Roses are red

  But cherries are redder

  Maybe she can clone fruit flies

  But I like you better.

  What I meant was that I like him more than Judith Gershner does, but I'm not really sure that comes through in the poem. Tina says it does, but Tina thinks I should have used love instead of like, so who knows if her opinion is of any value? This is a

  poem clearly calling for a like and not a love.

  I should know. I write enough of them.

  Poems, I mean.

  English Journal

  This semester we have read several novels, including To Kill a Mockingbird, Huckleberry Finn and The Scarlet Letter.

  In your English journal please record your feelings about the books we have read, and books in general. What have been your most meaningful experiences as a reader? Your favourite books? Your host favourite?

  Please utilize transitive sentences.

  Books I Have Read, and

  What They Meant to Me

  by Mia Thermopolis

  Books That Were Good

  1. Jaws — I bet you didn't know that in the book version of this, Richard Dreyfuss and Roy Scheider's wife have sex. But they do.

  2. The Catcher in the Rye — This is totally good. It has lots of bad words.

  3. To Kill a Mockingbird — This is an excellent book. They should do a movie version of this with Mel Gibson as Atticus, and he should blow Mr. Ewell away with a flame thrower at the end.

  4. A Wrinkle in Time - Only we never find out the most important thing: whether or not Meg has breasts. I'm thinking she probably did, considering the fact that she already had the glasses and braces. I mean, all of that and flat-chested too? God wouldn't be so cruel.

  5. Emanuelle - In the eighth grade, my best friend and I found this book on top of a rubbish bin on East Third Street. We took turns reading it out loud. It was very, very good. At least the parts I remember. My mom caught us reading

  it and took it away before we'd gotten a chance to finish it.

  Books That Sucked*

  1. The Scarlet Letter - You know what would have been cool? If there had been a rift in the space-time continuum and one of those Euro-trash terrorists Bruce Willis is always chasing in the Die Hard movies dropped a nuclear bomb on

  the town where Arthur Dimmesdale and all those losers lived, and blew it sky high. That's about the only thing I can thi
nk of that would have made this book even remotely interesting.