Read From the Notebooks of a Middle School Princess for Free Online Page B

wanted to beat u up.
    Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s not why.…
    Trust me, that’s why. I’m a princess expert. I know a hater when I see one.
    I know Nishi likes to think she’s a princess expert, but she’s wrong. Annabelle Jenkins, the most popular girl in the sixth grade at Cranbrook Middle School, will never be jealous of me—
    Uh-oh.…
    We’re here.

 
    Wednesday, May 6
6:30 P.M.
The Plaza Hotel
    When my dad isn’t in Genovia, being the prince, he stays at the Plaza Hotel on Fifth Avenue, which Aunt Catherine once told me has the most expensive apartments in all of New York, possibly the world.
    I believe it! Everything here is super elegant. In fact, I feel pretty underdressed in my school uniform, especially my hideous pleated skirt, which is probably going to be famous now because so many people took photos of me in it when I got out of the limo.
    That’s because someone posted pictures online of me with Princess Mia in front of Cranbrook Middle School, and tagged her as my sister!
    Hmmm, I wonder who that someone could have been … no, I’m being sarcastic. I’m pretty sure it was Annabelle, seeing how much she hates me.
    Anyway, that tipped off the media, and every single last one of them (it seemed) showed up outside of the Plaza.
    â€œThis is going to be bad,” Princess Mia said as we pulled up in front of the red carpet leading to the front doors of the hotel.
    I had to agree with her. I’ve never in my WHOLE LIFE seen as many people holding cameras as were waiting for us in front of that hotel! At first I thought it must have been for some sort of movie premiere or something.…
    But, when the limo stopped, and a man in a green uniform with gold braid on it came up to the door of the limo and opened it, and I heard all the people with cameras yelling my name, I knew: It wasn’t a movie premiere. Those people were there for me. ME!
    And they weren’t just yelling my name, either, but a lot of questions, some of them not very nice (or true), like:
    1. How did I feel about having been “abandoned” by my rich white dad?
    2. Did I think it was because I was black?
    3. Was I upset that my parents never got married?
    4. Who was I going to sue first?
    5. What was I going to do now that I was a princess, go to Disneyland? (OK, this question was kind of funny. Not all the questions were mean.)
    Princess Mia heard the rude questions, too. I could tell because she looked angry. Her mouth got very small and her eyebrows slanted down.
    â€œUh,” I said, looking out at all the reporters. “Maybe we should come back some other time.”
    â€œNo,” Princess Mia said, reaching out to straighten my school tie. “It’s always going to be like this. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to it. You don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to. In fact, I recommend that you don’t. Just smile and wave.”
    â€œSmile and wave?” I was a little bit shocked. I didn’t think people asking things like that — things that were so rude, and weren’t in the least bit true — deserved to be smiled at, much less waved to. “Really?”
    â€œReally.” She showed me how to smile very big, and wave using only my hand, not my whole arm, because it’s less tiring. “Yes, that’s right,” she said when I tried it. “Then smile like this.” She pasted a giant smile on her face.
    I tried it, though it felt very fake. I didn’t see how anyone could possibly believe it was a real smile. “Like this?”
    â€œBigger,” she said, still waving and smiling, but not moving her lips at all when she spoke. “There, you’ve got it. Perfect. You’re a natual.”
    I said I didn’t feel like a natural, so Princess Mia let me practice another minute or so. We didn’t have anyone to practice smiling and waving to