Third Time Lucky

Unless he's planning on blackmailing me about the whole fire alarm thing.

But Justin Baxendale doesn't exactly strike me as the blackmailer type. I mean, he looks to me like somebody who'd have something better to do than blackmail a princess.

Which leaves only one other explanation: he is my Secret Snowflake.

And how totally embarrassing is it going to be if I go out there when the bell rings, and Justin comes up to me to confess - because that's the rule, it turns out: you have to reveal your identity to your Secret Snowflake today - and I have to look up into his smoky eyes with those long lashes and give a big fake smile and go, 'Oh, gee, thanks, Justin. I had no idea it was you!'

Whatever. But actually, this is the least of my problems, right? I mean, considering that I am the only girl in this entire school who does not have a date to the dance tonight. And that tomorrow I have to leave for a country I am princess of, with my lunatic grandmother who isn't speaking to my father, and who, I know from past experience, is not above smoking in the airplane lavatory, if the urge to do so strikes her.

Really. Grandmere is a flight attendant's worst nightmare.

But that's not even half of it. I mean, what about my mom and Mr. Gianini? Sure, they are acting like they don't mind that I am going to be spending the holidays in another country.-And, yes, we are going to have our own private little Christmas amongst ourselves before I leave. But really, I bet they mind. I bet they mind a lot.

And what about my grade in Algebra? Oh, Mr. Gianini says it's fine, but what is fine, exactly? A D? A D is not fine. Not considering the number of hours I've put into raising my grade from an F, it isn't. A D is not acceptable.

And what - oh, God, what -

am I going to do about Kenny?

At least I got Tina's present out of the way. I went on-line last night and signed her up for a teen romance book-of-the-month club. I printed out the certificate, saying she is an official member, and will give it to her when the bell rings.

Which is also when I have to go out there and face Justin Baxendale.

It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for those eyes of his. Why does he have to be so good-looking? And why did someone like him have to pick me as his Secret Snowflake? Beautiful people, like Lana and Justin, can't help but be repulsed by ordinary-looking people like me.

He probably didn't even pull my name from that jar at all. Probably, he picked Lana's name and has been putting those roses

in my locker, thinking it is Lana's, seeing as how God knows she never hangs out in front of her own locker.

What's even worse is that Tina told me yellow roses mean love everlasting.

Which of course was why I figured maybe Kenny was the one doing it after all.

Oh, great. They are passing around the printouts with our grades on them. I am not looking. I don't even care. I DO NOT CARE ABOUT MY GRADES.

Thank God for the bell. I'm just going to slip out of here — totally not looking at my grades - and go about my business like nothing out of the ordinary is going on.

Except, of course, when I get to my locker, Justin is there, looking for someone. Lana is there too, waiting for Josh.

You know, I really don't need this. Justin revealing that he is my Secret Snowflake right in front of Lana, I mean. God only knows what she's going to say - the girl who has been suggesting I wear Band Aids instead of a bra every day since the two

of us hit puberty. Plus it isn't like she's been super-happy with me since the whole mobile phone thing. I'll bet she'll have something extra-mean all prepared for the occasion . . .

'Dude,' Justin says.

Dude? I am not a dude. Who is Justin talking to?

I turn around. Josh is standing there, behind Lana.

'Dude, I've been looking for you all week,' Justin says, to Josh. 'Do you have those Trig notes for me or not? I've got to make-up the Final in one hour.'

Josh says something, but I do not hear him. I do not hear him because there is a roaring sound in my ears. Because standing behind Justin is Michael.

Michael Moscovitz,.

And in his hand is a yellow rose.

Friday, December 18, Winter Carnival

Oh, God.

I am in so much trouble.

Again.

And it isn't even my fault this time. I mean, I couldn't help myself. It just happened. And it doesn't mean anything. It was just, you know, one of those things.

Besides, it's not what Kenny thinks. Really. I mean, if you think about it, it is a complete and total letdown. For me, anyway.

Because, of course, the first thing Michael says when he sees me standing there gaping at him while he is holding that flower,

is, 'Here. This just fell out of your locker.'

I took it from him in a complete daze. I swear to God my heart was beating so hard, I thought I was going to pass out.

Because I thought they'd been from him. The roses, I mean. For a minute there, I really did think Michael Moscovitz had

been leaving me roses.