Royal Wedding - Meg Cabot Page 0,48
you get up (I thought you’d want to sleep in, as you seemed exhausted. I don’t know what could have tired you out ;-). Love you.
He included an emoji of a cartoon alien being blasted through its heart by a laser gun.
I really do need to talk to him about his emojis; he doesn’t seem to understand the purpose of them at all.
Anyway, I know exactly what it is I have to do.
I read in a magazine once that sleep helps reset the brain, so if you have an important decision to make you should put off making it until morning. As human beings, we make so many important decisions throughout the day (such as what to eat for lunch, whether or not to cross against the light, or whether to friend this person or that person) that by evening our decision-making brain cells are literally depleted.
But by morning they’re recharged and ready to go.
This must be why everything seems so clear to me this morning (well, except for the headache).
Obviously, I can’t allow myself to be pushed around like this. I plan to go to New Jersey to meet my sister.
I know this goes explicitly against her own mother’s (and grandmother’s) wishes, but like Lars said, no one is going to keep me from meeting my own sister—especially now that I know we have the same middle name (Mignonette—clearly Elizabeth Harrison did that on purpose. She must have meant us to meet one day).
Of course, Mignonette is also my grandmother’s middle name (and a sauce with which raw oysters are served). But this means nothing.
Olivia loves animals (like me) and also drawing and math (okay . . . unlike me. But everyone has their individual talents and we are all unique. Not like snowflakes, though, because they’ve actually discovered that there ARE snowflakes that are alike. So we all need to stop saying that thing about snowflakes being unique).
She also lives with her aunt and the “bohunk” uncle and his two older children from a previous marriage.
So I don’t want to make her life harder than it already is. Maybe she wants to move overseas.
• Note to self: Find out where overseas they are moving. Maybe it’s someplace nice, such as the South of France. Maybe they’ll be near Genovia!
But where she lives should be up to her. She should know she has a choice.
Although first I have to work on having a choice to give her.
CHAPTER 30
10:15 a.m., Tuesday, May 5
In HELV on the way to the Community Center
Rate the Royals Rating: 1
Just got off the phone with Michael. We had a very serious conversation about what we were going to do about our living situation, and also about my sister, Olivia. (After some initial silliness about whether I was or was not wearing underwear.)
Grandmère’s announcement of our wedding plans is forcing us to make decisions about things we hadn’t yet discussed in a lot of detail, such as where we’re going to live. Obviously Michael can’t move into the consulate, because the apartment there is too small and also hideous (the décor is circa 1987), and no one who doesn’t absolutely have to should be forced to live under Madame Alain’s sanctimonious gaze.
Of course Michael’s loft is wonderful but it’s in a nondoorman condo building, which means:
• There is no one to keep stalkers from being buzzed in.
• There is no desk for packages, etc., to be signed in/scanned by the Royal Genovian Guard.
• It doesn’t have proper walls between rooms (except for the bathrooms), which is fine for us but inappropriate if we’re going to be playing Fireman (or Space Alien) while also entertaining overnight house guests, such as a little sister (whom I hope to entertain one day). What if she were to hear us? It could permanently warp her developing little mind.
“Wait,” Michael said, when I mentioned this. “Are you thinking we’re going to adopt her, or something?”
“Of course not!” I said. “We’re going to be newlyweds. We can’t have a tween girl lounging around the house, doing tween-girl things like painting her nails and FaceTiming with her friends about her new teen heartthrob.”
“Is that really what you think tween girls do? Have you been watching 13 Going on 30 again?”
“No. I know what tween girls do. I was a tween once.”
“If I recall correctly, when you were a tween, you would walk around with a cat stuffed down your pants while my sister filmed you for her public-access TV show.”
“That is not correct.”
“From