Then he turned to my mom and said, “You’re Mia’s mother? Oh my gosh, I thought you must be her college-age sister,” which is a totally toolish thing to say, but my mom actually fell for it, I think. She BLUSHED as he was shaking her hand. I guess I am not the only Thermopolis woman to fall under the spell of Josh Richter’s blue eyes.
Then my dad cleared his throat and started asking Josh a whole lot of questions about what kind of car he was driving (his dad’s BMW), where we’re going (duh), and what time we would be back (in time for breakfast, Josh said). My dad didn’t like that, though, and Josh said, “What time would you like her back, sir?”
SIR! Josh Richter called my dad SIR!
And my dad looked at Lars and said, “One o’clock at the latest,” which I thought was pretty decent of him, since my normal curfew is eleven on weekends. Of course, considering that Lars was going to be there, and there wasn’t anything that could actually happen to me, it was kind of bogus that I couldn’t stay out as late as I wanted, but Grandm่re told me a princess should always be prepared to compromise, so I didn’t say anything.
Then my dad asked Josh some more questions, like where was he going to college in the fall (he hasn’t decided yet, but he’s applying to all the Ivy Leagues) and what does he plan on studying (business), and then my mom asked him what was wrong with a liberal arts education, and Josh said he was really looking for a degree that would guarantee him a minimum salary of eighty thousand a year, to which my mom replied that there are more important things than money, and then I said, “Gosh, look at the time,” and grabbed Josh and headed out the door.
Josh and Lars and I went down to Josh’s dad’s car, and Josh held the door to the front seat open for me, and then Lars said why didn’t he drive so Josh and I could sit in the back and get to know each other. I thought this was way nice of Lars, but when Josh and I got in the back, we didn’t have a whole lot to say to each other. I mean, Josh was like, “You look really nice in that dress,” and I said I liked his tux and thanked him for my corsage. And then we didn’t say anything for like twenty blocks.
I am not even kidding. I was so embarrassed! I mean, I don’t hang around with boys that much, but I’ve never had that problem with the ones I HAVE hung around with. I mean, Michael Moscovitz practically never shuts up. I couldn’t understand why Josh wasn’t SAYING anything. I thought about asking him who he’d rather spend eternity with if it was the end of the world and he had to choose, Winona Ryder or Nicole Kidman, but I didn’t feel like I knew him well enough. . . .
But finally Josh broke the silence by asking if it was true my mom was dating Mr. Gianini. Well, I should have expected that to get around. Maybe not as fast as my being a princess, but it had gotten around, all right.
So I said, yes, it was true, and then Josh wanted to know what that was like.
But then for some reason I couldn’t tell him about seeing Mr. G in his underwear at my kitchen table. It just didn’t seem . . . I don’t know. I just couldn’t tell him. Isn’t that funny? I had told Michael Moscovitz without even having been asked. But I couldn’t tell Josh, even though he had looked into my soul and everything. Weird, huh?
Then after like a zillion more blocks of silence we pulled up in front of the restaurant, and Lars surrendered the car to the valet and Josh and I went in (Lars promised he wouldn’t eat with us; he said he’d just stand by the door and look at everybody who arrived in a mean way, like Arnold Schwarzenegger), and it turned out all of Josh’s entourage was meeting us here, which I didn’t know but was kind of relieved to see. I mean, I’d sort of been dreading sitting there for another hour or so with nothing to say. . . .
But thank God, all the guys on the crew team were at this big long table with their cheerleader girlfriends, and at the head of this table were these two empty places, one for Josh and one for me.
I have to say, everyone has been pretty nice. The girls all complimented me on my dress and asked me questions about being a princess, like how weird was it to wake up and see your picture on the front of the Post, and do you ever wear a crown, and stuff like that. They’re all much older than me—some of them are seniors—so they’re pretty mature. None of them have made any comments about how I have no chest or anything, like Lana would have if she’d been here.
But then, if Lana were here I wouldn’t be.
The thing that most surprised me is that Josh ordered champagne, and nobody even questioned his ID, which, of course, was totally fake. The table’s been through three bottles already, and Josh just keeps ordering more, since his dad gave him his platinum American Express card for the occasion. I just don’t get it. Can’t the waiters tell he’s only eighteen and that most of his guests are even younger than that?
And how can Josh sit there and drink so much? What if Lars hadn’t been here to drive? Josh would be driving his dad’s BMW half sloshed. How irresponsible can you get? And Josh is class valedictorian!
And then, without even asking me, Josh ordered dinner for the whole table: filet mignon for everyone. I guess that’s very nice and all, but I won’t eat meat, not even for the most sensitive boy in the world.
And he hasn’t even noticed I haven’t touched my food! I totally had to fill up on salad and bread rolls to keep from starving to death.
Maybe I could sneak out of here and get Lars to pick up a veggie wrap for me from Emerald Planet.