Meg Cabot - The Princess Diaries 03 - Princess In Love · Read more · Meg Cabot - The Princess Diaries 02 - Princess In The Spotlight. Read more. A Princess Diaries Book BOOKS ABOUTPrincess Mia: THE PRINCESS DIARIEST kissing, love, and the hazards of stalking (and being stalked by) a princess. Some of Meg Cabot's stories are: The Princess Diaries Diaries: Third Time Lucky (), The Princess Diaires: Mia . school, my mom was waiting for me.

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Some of Meg Cabot's stories are: The Princess Diaries. (), The Princess . love with Michael for a long time, but he doesn't know how. I feel. He just sees. You can easily download Princess in Love Pdf, Princess in Love Pdf by New York Times bestselling Princess Diaries series by Meg Cabot. Princess Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo may seem like she's the luckiest girl ever. She's a princess, for starters. and while she's no.

Gianini, who really goes beyond the call of duty by staying after school every day to conduct help sessions for people like me who aren't doing so well in Algebra. Lilly says Mr. Gianini probably only started pulling that staying-after-school thing so that he could ingratiate himself to my mother, and now he can't stop, because then she'll realize it was all just a setup and divorce him.

I don't believe that, however. I think Mr. G would have stayed after school to help me whether he was dating my mom or not. He's that kind of guy.

Anyway, the upshot of it all is that now Lilly is launching another one of her famous campaigns. This is actually a good thing, as it will keep her mind off me and where I am putting or not putting my lips. It's the apathy of the student body. For instance, let's say we wanted to stage a walkout. ME: A walkout? We all get up and walk out of the school at the same time. ME: Just because Mrs. Spears turned down your term paper proposal?

Because she's trying to usurp our individuality by forcing us to bend to corporate feudalism. ME: Oh.

And how is she doing that? BORIS: leaning out of the supply closet, where Lilly made him go when he started practicing his latest sonata : Fertile? Did someone say fertile? Michael, can you send a mass e-mail tonight to the entire student body, declaring a walkout tomorrow at eleven?

Of course, it's public access, so it's not like she's making any money off it, but a bunch of the major networks picked up this interview she did of me one night when I was half asleep and played it. I thought it was stupid, but I guess a lot of other people thought it was good, because now Lilly gets tons of viewer mail, whereas before the only mail she got was from her stalker, Norman.

Just don't expect me to meekly do your bidding, especially when you already owe me one. ME: Lilly, no offense, but I don't think this week's a good time for a walkout, anyway. I mean, after all, it's almost Finals. ME: So some of us really need to stay in class.

I can't afford to miss any review sessions. I'm getting bad enough grades as it is. I thought you were doing better in Algebra. ME: If you call a D plus better. You have to be making better than a D plus.

Your mom is married to your Algebra teacher! ME: So? That doesn't mean anything. You know Mr. G doesn't play favorites. Fortunately at that moment the bell rang, so no walkout tomorrow as far as I know.

Which is a good thing, because I really need the extra study time. You know, it's funny about Mrs. And my IQ isn't anywhere near as high as Lilly's. I just wanted you to know how I feel. Sincerely, Kenny Oh God. Now what am I supposed to do?

He's sitting here next to me, waiting for an answer. In fact, that's what he thinks I'm writing right now. An answer. What do I say? Maybe this is my perfect opportunity to break up with him. I'm sorry, Kenny, but I don't feel the same way--let's just be friends. Is that what I should say? It's just that I don't want to hurt his feelings, you know? And he is my Bio partner. I mean, whatever happens, I am going to have to sit by him for the next two weeks.

And I would much rather have a Bio partner who likes me than one who hates me. And what about the dance? I know it is horrible to think things like this, but this is the first dance in the history of my life to which I already have a date.

Well, I mean, if he'd ever get around to asking me, anyway. And how about that Final, huh? Our Bio Final, I mean. No way am I going to be able to pass without Kenny's notes. NO WAY. But what else can I do? I mean, considering what happened today at the salad bar. This is it. Goodbye, date for the Non-Denominational Winter Dance. Hello, Saturday night television. Dear Kenny, It isn't that I don't think of you as a very dear friend.

Gianini's Algebra review Okay, so the bell rang before I had time to finish my note. That doesn't mean I'm not going to tell Kenny exactly how I feel. I totally am. Tonight, as a matter of fact. I don't care if it's cruel to do something like that over the phone.

I just can't take it anymore. So I didn't break up with him. I totally meant to. And it wasn't even because I didn't have the heart to do it over the phone, either.

Not that I feel right about it.

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Not breaking up with him, I mean. It's just that after Algebra review, I had to go to the showroom where Sebastiano is flogging his latest creations, so that he could have his flunkies take my measurements for my dress. Grandmere was going on about how from now on, I should really only wear clothes by Genovian designers, to show my patriotism, or whatever.

Which is going to be hard, because, uh, there's only one Genovian clothing designer that I know of, and that's Sebastiano. And let's just say he doesn't make very much out of denim.

But whatever. I so had more important things to worry about than my spring wardrobe. Which I guess Grandmere must have caught onto, because midway through Sebastiano's description of the beading he was going to have sewn onto my gown's bodice, Grandmere slammed down her Sidecar and shouted, "Amelia, what is the matter with you?

She does this quite frequently. That's why my father, even though he has the neighboring hotel suite, never stops by during my princess lessons. And white, you might be surprised to know, is the new black. What is it?

I knew I was turning all red because a I could feel it, and b I could see my reflection in the three full-length mirrors in front of me. Trouble at home? Your mother and the math teacher fighting already, I suppose. Well, I never expected that marriage to last.

Your mother is much too flighty. Grandmere is always putting my mother down, even though Mom has raised me pretty much single-handedly and I certainly haven't gotten pregnant or shot anyone yet.

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Gianini are blissfully happy together. I wasn't thinking about them at all. Not that it's any of your business. Lilly and Michael's Grandma remembers the names of all their friends, makes them rugelach all the time, and always worries that they're not getting enough to eat, even though their parents, the Drs. Moscovitz, are wholly reliable at bringing home groceries, or at least ordering out. I get the grandma with the hairless poodle and the nine-carat diamond rings whose greatest joy in life is to torture me.

And why is that, anyway? I mean, why does Grandmere love to torture me so much? I've never done anything to her. Nothing except be her only living grandchild, anyway.

And it isn't exactly like I go around advertising how I feel about her. You know, I've never actually told her I think she's a mean old lady who contributes to the destruction of the environment by wearing fur coats and smoking filterless French cigarettes. His name is Kenny. Only last night he went completely schizo on me, and told me he loves me.

So it wouldn't be fair of me to, you know, lead him on. People just don't go around doing things like that. Not nowadays. Well, I've never observed such a thing. Except, of course, if one happens to be in love with someone else.

Then shedding an undesirable suitor might be considered wise, so that one can make oneself available to the man one truly likes.

Someone, ahem, special? Grandmere snorted. I oughtn't tell you this, but I suppose as it is bad habit for a future monarch, you ought to be made aware of it, so that in the future, you can try to prevent it: when you lie, Amelia, your nostrils flare.

Taking my hands from my face, I examined my nose. My nostrils weren't flaring. She was crazy. And my nostrils flared right out! Oh my God!

Cabot, Meg - Princess Diaries 03 - Princess in Love

All these years I've been lying, and it turns out whenever I do, my nostrils totally give me away! All anyone has to do is look at my nose when I talk, and they'll know for sure whether or not I'm telling the truth.

How could no one have pointed this out to me before? Not my mother, with whom I've lived for fourteen years. Not my best friend, whose IQ is higher than Einstein's. If this got out, my life was over. Yes, I am in love with somebody else.

Are you happy now? If it wouldn't have been totally rude, I'd have made a little cross out of my index fingers and held it up towards her--that's how much she scares me. And if you think about it, with her tattooed eyeliner, she does look a little like Nosferatu. I take it, then, that the gentleman in question does not return your ardor.

Not now. Not with my nostrils. My shoulders sagged. He likes this other girl. This really smart girl who knows how to clone fruit flies. Well, never mind that now. I don't suppose, Amelia, that you are acquainted with the expression dirty dishwater is better than none?

Really, my grandmother has said--and done--some pretty cold things in her time, but this one took the cake. You can't just string a guy along like that, knowing that you don't feel the same way about him that he feels about you. I'm breaking up with Kenny.

Right away. He looked more miserable than ever, as if instead of stroking him, she was peeling the skin away from his body.

He really is the most heinous excuse for a dog I have ever seen. But allow me to point out to you that if you break off your relationship with this young man, your Biology grade will suffer. But mostly because this was something I had already thought of myself.

I was amazed Grandmere and I had actually shared something. Which was really the only reason I shouted, "Grandmere! You are only making what, a C, in this class? And that is only because that young man allows you to copy his answers to the homework.

Because, of course, that she's right. She looked at the ceiling. She was right. She was so right. But still. That would be just plain wrong. Especially considering the fact that after you break things off with him, he probably won't even speak to you anymore.

And not something I hadn't thought of myself. If Kenny got mad enough over me breaking up with him not to want to speak to me anymore, sixth period was going to be plenty unpleasant.

This spiky charm bracelet she was wearing tinkled. Really, Amelia, you aren't being at all sensible. What about this other young man? Won't he be at this dance with the house fly girl? But as soon as Grandmere mentioned it, I felt that same sickening sensation I'd felt at the ice-skating rink when I'd first seen them together: kind of like the time when Lilly and I were crossing Bleecker Street and this Chinese food delivery man crashed into us on his bicycle, and I had all the wind knocked out of me.

Only this time, it wasn't just my chest that hurt, but my tongue. It had been feeling a lot better, but now it started to throb again. Because she was right. Yeah, he likes girls who can clone insects. I highly doubt he is going to be impressed by a dress. But almost as if she could read my mind, Grandmere just went, "Hmmm," in this knowing way.

She had never shown one speck of holiday spirit before now. If you truly wish to be kind, I think you might at least wait until after your Final exams are over before breaking the poor little fellow's heart. I stood there with my mouth hanging open. I know it was hanging open, because I could see it reflected in the three full-length mirrors beside me. Why compound the poor boy's stress? But you must, of course, do what you think is best.

I suppose this, er, Kenny is the sort of boy who bounces back easily from rejection. He'll probably do quite well on his exams, in spite of his broken heart. If she had stabbed a fork in my stomach and twisted my intestines around the tines like spaghetti noodles, she couldn't have made me feel worse And, I have to admit, a little relieved. Because of course I can't break up with Kenny now. Never mind my Bio grade and the dance: you can't break up with someone right before Finals. It's like the meanest thing you can do.

Well, aside from the kind of stuff Lana and her friends pull. You know, girls' locker room stuff, like going up to someone who is changing and asking her why she wears a bra when she obviously doesn't need one, or making fun of her just because she doesn't happen to like being kissed by her boyfriend. That kind of thing. So here I am. I want to break up with Kenny, but I can't. I want to tell Michael how I feel about him, but I can't do that either.

I can't even quit biting my fingernails. I am going to gross out an entire European nation with my bleedy-looking cuticles. I am a pathetic mess. Get cat food, litter for Fat Louie 2. Stop biting fingernails 4. He'll call me when he lands.

Okay, not thinking about that now. Because every time I do, I get these weird heart palpitations and my palms get sweaty. Meanwhile, a hand-delivered envelope did arrive for me while I was gone.

Mom told me about it not very happily when I woke her up to ask if Michael had called honestly, I didn't realize she was asleep. Usually she's up watching David Letterman until the musical guest comes on at twelve-thirty.

How was I supposed to know the musical guest was Fergie, so Mom went to bed early? The hand-delivered envelope obviously wasn't from Michael. It was on fancy ivory stationery with a big red wax seal with the letters D and R stamped in the middle. There was something about it that just screamed Grandmere. So I wasn't very surprised when Mom said, all crabbily, "Your grandmother says to open it right away.

I was surprised, however, when she added, "And she said to call her when you do. No matter what time it is. Grandmere goes to bed right before the eleven o'clock news every night without fail, unless she's out partying with Henry Kissinger or somebody like that. She says if she doesn't get her full eight hours of beauty sleep, she can't do a thing with the bags under her eyes the next day, no matter how much hemorrhoid cream she puts on them. Gianini snoring away like that next to her is a mystery to me.

It can only be true love. I wasn't liking the look of that envelope, and I definitely wasn't liking the idea of having to call Grandmere at eleven thirty at night. But I went to my room and ripped open the seal and pulled out the letter and started reading…. Did you receive your letter? I only remembered to keep my voice down because I live in a loft and my little brother was sleeping in the next room and I didn't want to risk the wrath of Mom if I woke him up. But…how did you know? Did you get one, too?

Now, Amelia, I must know. This is very important. Did she mention issuing you an invitation to join the Domina Reis when you come of age?


And I don't have time for this right now. I am going through a very stressful time at the moment, and I really have to concentrate on just staying centered--". This was totally the wrong thing to say, however. Grandmere was practically breathing fire when she replied in her princessiest tone, "For your information, the Domina Reis are one of the most influential women's societies in the world.

How can you not be aware of this, Amelia? They are like the Opus Dei of women's organizations. Only not religiously affiliated. I had to admit, this got me kind of interested, in spite of myself.

Opus Dei? That secret society in The Da Vinci Code? The one where the members whip themselves? Lana's mom keeps a weird metal spike wrapped around her leg? This was disappointing to hear. I have never met Lana's mom and she clearly knows nothing about me, because in her letter, she mentioned how much Lana has appreciated my friendship over the years, and how regrettable it is that my busy royal agenda has kept me from attending more of the parties she knows Lana has invited me to at their place.

Yeah , but the idea of any member of the Weinberger family with possible spikes digging into her fills me with great joy. The Contessa Trevanni is a member. I mean, hello, has no one in my family heard of condoms? After a stern talking to by my dad and, I suspect, an exchange of cash: Basically, we never speak of it. Hillary Rodham Clinton. Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. Even Oprah Winfrey. A hush fell over our conversation then, as it always does in polite society whenever Ms.

Winfrey's name is mentioned. Then I said, "Well, that's all very nice, Grandmere. However, like I said, this really isn't the best time for me. But Grandmere, as usual, wasn't even listening. However, due to a complete misunderstanding involving a certain gentleman who shall remain nameless, I was ruthlessly blackballed. If you must know, it was Prince Rainier of Monaco. But the rumors were completely false! I never even looked at him twice!

Was it my fault he was so fascinated by me that he used to follow me around like a puppy? I can't imagine how anyone could have thought it was anything other than what it was…a simple infatuation a much older man bore for a young woman who couldn't help sparkling with wit and joie de vivre. It took me a minute to figure out who she was talking about. What is wrong with you?

Why do you think he married Grace Kelly? Why do you think his family allowed him to marry a movie actress? Only because they were so relieved he agreed to marry anyone after the heartbreak he experienced when I rejected him…. Amelia, don't be ridiculous. I-Oh, never mind. How did we even get on this topic? The fact is, the Contessa Trevanni will eat her own head if you give the keynote address at her women's society's charity gala.

They've never asked her granddaughter to speak. Of course, why would they? She's never accomplished anything, except to get pregnant, which any half-wit can do, and she's such a namby-pamby, she'd probably freeze up at the sight of those two thousand impeccably-groomed successful businesswomen staring up at her--".

I gasped again…but this time for a different reason. I do believe it's time we fitted you with a suit. Dresses are fine, but you can never go wrong with a really good wool suit--". Let me see, now, the Domina Reis colors are blue and white…blue's never been your best color, but we'll have to make do….

Panic was rising in my throat. It was sort of the way I felt every time I thought about Michael, only without the sweaty palms. I can't give a speech in front of two thousand successful business women. You don't understand-I'm going through a romantic crisis at the moment, and until it's resolved, I really think I need to keep a low profile…in fact, even after it's resolved, I don't think I can speak in front of that many people.

As if any of us could forget. I don't know about this, Grandmere. I think maybe I should--". I don't suppose it will have grown in by then.

Maybe Paolo can fashion some sort of extensions. I'll phone him in the morning…. Which isn't weird. I mean, he's still got another three hours in the air. And then he has to go through customs. If you're there, write back. Because while I know the bond Michael and I have is too strong to be torn asunder by a simple misunderstanding, and that he's going to call when he gets to Japan and tell me he forgives me and everything is going to be all right-what if it isn't?

What if he doesn't? Oh, God-my palms won't stop sweating!!!!! And I think I might be having a heart attack…. It's going to be all right! Of course Michael is going to forgive you! You guys will get back together, and everything is going to be just like it used to be.

Better, even. Because couples who go through hard times together always come out stronger for it…. That's right! And whatever, right? My ancestresses have faced far harsher adversity. Such as marauding invaders and abductions and being forced to drink wine out of their murdered fathers' skulls and all of that.

Michael and I will be fine! You know. Lilly and Perrin's victory party. For winning the student election. She was saying she was never speaking to you again…But I thought she was joking. But didn't you go see Beauty and the Beast with J. Well, yes. But it was perfectly innocent. But didn't you say in the past that your ideal man is one who can sit through an entire performance of Beauty and the Beast, the most romantic and beautiful story ever told, and not snicker in the wrong places?

But that was a long time ago. And I've realized since then that I was wrong. Now my ideal man is now one who snickers. Well, you'd better tell Lilly that. What's she saying? How do YOU even know? The giant photo of you and J. Moscovitz is rumored to have accepted a year-long appointment at a Japanese robotics firm in Tsuksuba, where he'll be working on a top secret project.

Princess Lessons (A Princess Diaries Book)

But her Royal Highness doesn't appear to be pining for her onetime love-or wasting any time getting back into the dating scene. Which is so messed up on so many levels. I mean, first of all, it was only a peck. And second of all, they were already broken up when the peck took place.

Reynolds-Abernathy the Fourth? None of this makes any sense. Lilly is supposed to be my best friend. How can she believe something so horrible of me? And it's true, I was pretty awful to her brother this week.

But that was only because I stupidly didn't realize what a great thing we had, until I went and lost it. It's only a matter of time two hours until he gets my email and calls me please, God and we patch things up and he sends me back my snowflake necklace and we're back together and everything's fine again. But why would he believe it? He never believed any of the lies the paparazzi was always reporting about me and James Franco.

Why would he believe THIS one? I am not going to freak out. It's true that in the past, I would be hysterical over something like this. I'd be calling my dad and begging him to have our lawyers demand a retraction.

I'd be trying to get to the bottom of who'd tipped the papers off-as if I didn't know Grandmere. I'd be frantically e-ing Michael, hysterically explaining that none of it's true. And besides: I am way too freaked out as it already is.

How could I possibly freak out any more? I can barely hold onto my pen to write this, my hand is so drenched in sweat. I'm going to allow Lilly a little cooling off period. I'm sure when she's having her party and everyone is there but me I called Tina after I ran out and got the paper. But I actually need her to go so I can find out what Lilly is saying about me. I swear, if Lilly's bad-mouthing me, I will call the Federal Communications Commission and report the fact that she used the S word on last week's episode of Lilly Tells It Like It Is , while she was describing the current state of affairs in Iraq , she'll start missing me and call and invite me over.

I'll just sit here and do my Calculus homework until then. Or any of my classes, really. The last thing I need, on top of everything else that's going on, is to flunk out of high school. Vol I: Princess Diaries Vol.

The Princess Diaries, Volume III: Princess in Love

Princess in the Spotlight Vol. Princess in Love Vol. Princess in Waiting Vol. IV and a Half: Project Princess Vol. Princess in Pink Vol. Princess in Training Vol. VI and a Half: Party Princess Vol.Michael has never cried during a Broadway show.

Hank Thermopolis: Mia's handsome cousin, who has spent most of his life in Indiana with his grandparents. There are many different types of sparkling head ornaments, from the decorative comb to the ermine-lined papal miter. She strides confidently, with her head held high, her gaze straight ahead, and her arms relaxed at her sides except of course when she is holding a purse or small chien.

However, like I said, this really isn't the best time for me.