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what else did I expect? Tina is such a romantic, of course she thinks the prom is the height of teen l’amour.
    I know there was a time when I thought so, too. All I have to do is look through the pages of my old journals. I used to be crazy for the prom. I would sooner have DIED than missed it.
    I guess in a way I wish I could recapture that old excitement.
    But we all have to grow up one day.
    And the truth is, I really don’t see what the big deal is about going to a dinner (rubbery chicken and wilted lettuce under disgusting dressing) and dance (to bad music) at the Waldorf (which I’ve been to a million times before anyway, most notably last time where I gave a speech that may have ruined my family’s reputation, not to mention my native country, for all time).
    I just wish—
    AHHHHH!!!! God, I have to get used to that thing vibrating in my pocket….
    Ameliaaaaaaa—I need an updated guesssssst list from you for Mondayyyyyy. I’m quite put outtttttttt. Everyone I’ve invited has RSVP’d yesssssss, according to Vigo. Even your cousin Hankkkkkkkkkkkk is coming in from the Milan shows to attend. And I just heard from your motherrrrrrrr that your dreadful grandparents from Indianaaaaaaaaaa will be flying into town for the event. I am most upset about thisssssssss. Of course they had to be invited, but I never expected them actually to say yesssssssssssss . It’s all most disturbing…I may need for you to disinvite a few of your guests. You know the yacht only holds three hundred comfortably. Call me immediately.—Clarisse, your grandmotherrrrrrrrrrrrrr
    Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device
    God! Why did Dad get Grandmère a BlackBerry? Is he trying to ruin my life? And who, exactly, was stupid enough to show her how to use it? I could kill Vigo.
    Bystander effect—a psychological phenomenon in which someone is less likely to intervene in an emergency situation when other people are present and able to help than when he or she is alone. See Kitty Genovese case, in which a young womanwas brutally attacked within hearing of a dozen neighbors, but none of them called the police, each thinking someone else would do it.
    HOMEWORK
    World History: Whatever
    English Lit: Bite me
    Trig: God, I hate this class
    G&T: I know Boris is playing at Carnegie Hall for his senior project, but WHY WON’T HE STOP ALREADY WITH THE CHOPIN?????
    French: J’ai mal à la tête
    Psychology II: I can’t believe I even bother taking notes in this class. I have lived this class.

 
    Thursday, April 27, Jeffrey
    Great.
    J.P. saw us in the hallway heading out toward the limo and was all, “Where are you girls going, looking so happy?” and Lars went, before I could stop him, “Prom dress shopping.”
    And then Lana and Tina and Shameeka and Trisha looked at J.P. expectantly with their eyebrows raised, like, Hello? Prom? Remember? Did you forget something? Would you like to ask your girlfriend to go with you?
    I guess news travels fast. The part about J.P. not having asked me to the prom, I mean. Thanks, Tina!
    Not that she doesn’t mean well.
    Of course J.P. just smiled at us tolerantly and went, “Well, have fun, girls, Lars.” Then he kept walking toward the auditorium, where he was holding play rehearsal.
    They were all totally flabbergasted—Lana and those guys, I mean. That he didn’t smack himself in the forehead and go, “D’oh! Prom! Of course!” Then drop to one knee and take my hands tenderly in his and ask me to forgive him for being a churlish lout and beg me to go with him.
    But I told them they shouldn’t be so shocked. I don’t take it personally. J.P. can’t think about anything but his play, A Prince Among Men.
    Which I totally understand, because when I was writing my book, I felt the same way. I couldn’t think about anything else. Every chance I got, I just curled up in bed with my laptop and with