Princess in Pink (15 page)

I already called Grandmere and cancelled my princess lesson for the day. I must say, Grandmere wasn't very alarmed, once she heard my mom was going to be all right. You would think relatives of hers faint in the Grand Union every day. My dad's reaction to the news was much more gratifying. He got ALL worked up and wanted to fly in the royal physician all the way from Genovia to make sure the baby's heartbeat was regular and that the pregnancy wasn't putting undue stress on my mom's admittedly worn-out thirty-six-year-old system—

OH, MY GOD!!!!!!!!!! You'll never guess who just walked into the ER. My OWN royal consort, HRH Michael Moscovitz Renaldo to be.

More later.

Tuesday, May 6, the Loft

Michael is SO sweet!!!!!!!!! As soon as school let out he rushed over to the hospital to make sure my mom was all right. He found out what happened from my dad. Can you IMAGINE???? He was so worried when he heard from Tina that I had

gone rushing out of French that he called MY DAD when he couldn't get an answer at the Loft.

How many boys would willingly call their girlfriend's dad? Hmmm? None that I know of. Especially if their girlfriend's dad happened to be a crowned PRINCE, like my dad. Most boys would be too scared to call their girlfriend's dad in a situation like that. But not my boyfriend.

Too bad he still thinks the prom is lame. But whatever. Having your pregnant mother pass out in the refrigerated section of the Grand Union has a way of putting things into perspective.

And now I know that, much as I would have loved to have gone, the prom is not really important. What is important is family togetherness, and being with the ones you love, and being blessed with good health and—

Oh, God, what am I talking about? Of COURSE I still want to go the prom. Of COURSE it's still killing me inside that

Michael refuses even to entertain the IDEA of going.

I fully brought it up right there in the St. Vincent's ER waiting room. I was helped, of course, by the fact that there's a TV in

the waiting room, and that the TV was turned to CNN, and that CNN was doing a story on proms and the trends towards separate proms in many urban high schools - you know, like one prom for the white kids, who dance around to Eminem, and one prom for the African-American students, who dance around to Ashanti.

Only at Albert Einstein, there is only one prom, because Albert Einstein is a school that promotes cultural diversity and plays both Eminem and Ashanti at its events.

So since we were still waiting for my mom to get through with her Ringer's lactate, and we were all three of us just sitting there - me, Michael, and Lars - watching the TV and the occasional ambulance that came rolling in, bringing yet another patient to the ER, I went, to Michael, 'Come on. Doesn't that look like fun?'

Michael, who was watching the ambulance and not the TV, went, 'Getting your chest cracked open with a rib spreader in the middle of Seventh Avenue? Not really.'

'No,' I said. 'On the TV You know. Prom.'

Michael looked up at the TV, at all the students dancing in their formal wear, and went, 'No.'

'Yeah, but seriously. Think about it. It might be cool. You know. To go and make fun of.' This was not really my idea of a perfect prom night, but it was better than nothing. 'And you don't have to wear a tux, you know. I mean, there's like no rule

that says you do. You could just wear a suit. Or not even a suit. You could wear jeans and one of those T-shirts that look

like a tux.'

Michael looked at me like he thought I might have dropped a globe on my head.

'You know what would be even more fun?' he said. 'Bowling.'

I heaved this enormous sigh. It was sort of hard to have this intensely personal conversation there in the St Vincent's ER

waiting room, because not only was my bodyguard sitting RIGHT THERE, but so were all these sick people, some of whom were coughing EXTREMELY loudly right in my ear.

But I tried to remember the fact that I am a gifted healer and should be tolerant of their disgusting germs.

'But, Michael,' I said. 'Seriously. We could go bowling any old night. And frequently do. Wouldn't it be more fun, just once,

to get all dressed up and go dancing?'

'You want to go dancing?' Michael perked up. 'We could go dancing. We could go to the Rainbow Room if you want. My parents go there on their anniversary and stuff. It's supposed to be really nice. There's live music, really great old-time jazz, and—'

'Yeah,' I said. 'I know. I'm sure the Rainbow Room is very nice. But I mean, wouldn't it be nice to go dancing some place

with PEOPLE OUR OWN AGE?'

'Like from AEHS?' Michael looked sceptical. 'I guess so. I mean, if like Trevor and Felix and Paul were going to be there . . .' These are the guys from his band. 'But you know, they wouldn't be caught dead at something as lame as the prom.'

OH, MY GOD. It is EXTREMELY hard to be lifemates with a musician. Talk about marching to your own drummer.

Michael marches to his own BAND.

I know Michael and Trevor and Felix and Paul are cool and all, but I still fail to see what is so lame about the prom. I mean, you get to elect a Prom King and Queen. At what other social function do you get to elect monarchs to rule over the proceedings? Hello, how about none.

But whatever. I am not going to let Michael's refusal to act like a typical male seventeen year old get in the way of my enjoyment of this evening. You know, the family togetherness my mom and Mr. G and I are currently having. We are all

having a nice time watching Miracle Pets. An old lady had a heart attack and her pet pig walked TWENTY miles to get help.

Fat Louie wouldn't walk to the corner to get help for me. Or he might, but he would soon be distracted by a pigeon and run

off, never to be seen again, while my corpse rotted on the floor.

Asperger's syndrome

A Report

by

Mia Thermopolis

The condition known as Asperger's syndrome (also known as Pervasive developmental disorder) is marked by an inability to function normally in social interactions with others (wait a minute . . . this sounds like ... ME!).

The person suffering from Asperger's exhibits poor non-verbal communication skills (oh, my God - this is ME!!!!!!!!!),

is unsuccessful in developing relationships with peers (also me), is incapable of expressing pleasure in the happiness of others (wait - this is totally Lilly), and does not react appropriately in social situations (ME ME ME!!!!!!!). There is a higher incidence of the syndrome in males (OK, not me). Frequently, sufferers of Asperger's syndrome are socially inept (ME). When tested, however, many score in the above average intelligence range (OK, not me - but Lilly, definitely) and will often excel infields like science, computer programming and music (oh, my God! Michael! No! Not Michael! Anyone but Michael!).

Symptoms may include:

• Abnormal non-verbal communication — problems with eye contact, facial expressions, body postures or

uncontrolled gesturing
(ME! AlsoBoris!).

• Inability to develop relationships with peers (totally me. Also Lilly).

• Labelled by other children as 'weird' or 'freakish' (this is creeping me out!!! Lana calls me a freak nearly every day!!!).

• A typical or noticeably impaired expression of pleasure in other people's happiness (LILLY!!!! She is NEVER happy for ANYONE!!!!!!).

•
Lack of response to social or emotional feelings (LILLY!!!!!!).

•
Inability to be flexible regarding minor trivialities, such as alterations to specific routines or rituals (GRANDMERE!!!!!! ALSO MY DAD!!!!!!! Also Lars. And Mr G).

•
Continuous or repetitive finger tapping, hand wringing, knee jiggling or whole body movements (well, this is totally Boris, as anyone who has ever seen him play Bartok on his violin could attest).

•
Obsessive interest or concern with subjects such as world history, rock collecting or plane schedules (or possibly - PROM????????? Does being obsessed with the prom count? Oh, my God, I have Asperger's syndrome! I totally have Asperger's!!!! But wait. If I have it, so does Lilly. Because she is obsessed with Jangbu Pinasa. And Boris is obsessed with

his violin. And Tina with romance novels. And Michael with his band. Oh, my GOD!!!!!!!! We ALL have Asperger's syndrome!!!!!!!! This is terrible. I wonder if Principal Gupta knows???????? Wait . . . what if AEHS is a special Asperger's syndrome school? And none of us know it? Until now, that is ... I am going to bust the whole thing wide open! Like Woodward and Bernstein! Mia Thermopolis, forging a path for Asperger's sufferers everywhere!).

•
Obsessive concern or attention to parts of objects rather than the whole (I don't know what this means, but it sounds

like ME!!!!!!!!).

•
Repetitive behaviours, generally self-injurious in nature (BORIS!!!!!!! Dropping globes on his head!!!!!!!!! But wait,

he only did that once . . .).

Symptoms not included in Asperger's:

•
No indication of language retardation (duh. We are all excellent talkers) or of retardation in typical age-appropriate curiosity
(seriously. I mean, Lilly got to second base already and she is only in the ninth grade).

First identified in 1944 as 'Autistic Psychopathy' by Hans Asperger, the cause of this disorder is still unknown. Asperger's syndrome may possibly be related to autism. There is no known cure for Asperger's at this time, and indeed, some case subjects do not consider the disorder an impairment at all. To eliminate other causes, physical, emotional and mental evaluations are usually administered to suspected cases of Asperger's.

Lilly, Michael, Boris, Tina and I ALL need to take these tests!!!!! Oh, my God, we've had Asperger's all along and never knew!!!! I wonder if Mr. Wheeton knows, and that's why he assigned me this condition!!!!! This is spooky . . .

Tuesday, May 6, the Loft

I just went into my mother's bedroom (Mr G is on an emergency run to Grand Union to secure more Haagen-Dazs for her)

and demanded to know the truth about my mental health status.

'Mother,' I said. Am I, or am I not, a sufferer of Asperger's syndrome?'

My mom was trying to watch a bunch of episodes of Charmed she'd taped. She says Charmed is actually a very feminist show because it portrays young women who fight evil without the help of males, but I notice that a) they often fight while wearing halter tops, and b) my mother takes a special interest in the episodes where men take their shirts off.

But whatever. In any case, her reply to me was way cranky.

'For God's sake, Mia,' she said. Are you doing another report for Health and Safety?'

'Yes,' I said. And it is clear to me that you have been hiding from everyone the fact that I am a sufferer of Asperger's

syndrome, and that, in fact, you send me to a special school for Asperger's sufferers. And the lying has got to stop now!'

She just looked at me and went, Are you seriously trying to tell me that you don't remember last month, when you were convinced you had Tourette's syndrome?'

I protested that this was totally different. Tourette's is a disorder characterized by multiple motor and vocal tics that begin prior to the age of eighteen, and at the time we were studying it in class, my constant use of words such as 'like' and 'totally' seemed totally characteristic of the disease.

Is it my fault that generally the tics are accompanied by
involuntary bodily movements, from which I apparently don't suffer?

'Are you trying to say,' I demanded, 'that I don't have Asperger's syndrome?'

'Mia,' my mother said. 'There is nothing wrong with you. You are one hundred per cent Asperger's syndrome-free.

I couldn't believe this, however, after everything I'd read.

'Are you SURE?' I asked. 'What about Lilly?'

My mom snorted. 'Well. I wouldn't go so far as to say that Lilly is normal. But I highly doubt she is suffering from Asperger's.'

Damn! I wish she were. Lilly, I mean. Because then I might be able to forgive her. For calling me weak, I mean.

But as she has no disease, there is no excuse for the way she's treated me.

I have to admit, I'm a little sad I don't have Asperger's. Because now my obsession with the prom is just that: my obsession with the prom. And not a symptom of a disease over which I have no control.

Just my luck!

Wednesday, May 7, 3:30 a.m.

I realize now what I am going to have to do. I mean, I think I knew it all along, and I was just blocking it. Which isn't surprising, considering that every fibre of my being is crying out against it.

But really, what choice do I have? Michael himself even said it: he'd go to the prom if the guys from his band were going too.

Oh, God, I can't believe it has come to this. My life really IS going down the toilet if this is the low to which I am forced to stoop.

I'll never be able to get to sleep now. I just know it. I am too filled with dread.

The Atom

The Official Student-Run Newspaper of Albert Einstein High School

Take Pride in the AEHS Lions

Week of May 12

Volume 456/Issue 28

Notice to all Students:

As we enter final exams in the next few weeks, school administrators would like us to review the

AEHS mission statement and beliefs:

Mission Statement

It is Albert Einstein High School's mission to provide students with learning experiences that are technologically relevant, globally orientated and personally challenging.

Beliefs:

responsible behaviour and accountability for their actions.

4. Tolerance and understanding of different cultures and viewpoints must be encouraged at all times.

5. Cheating or plagiarism will not be condoned in any form, and can lead to suspension or expulsion.

The administration would like the student body to be aware that in the coming exam period, it intends to enforce point 5 with vigilance. Forewarned is forearmed.

Incident at Les Hautes Manger

by Mia Thermopolis

Having been asked by this paper to provide an account of what occurred last week at the restaurant Les Hautes Manger, at which this reporter was present, it must be noted that the entire thing was the fault of this reporter's grandmother, who smuggled her
dog into the restaurant. The said dog's ill-timed break for freedom caused busboy Jangbu Pinasa to drop a soup-laden tray on to the Dowager Princess of Genovia's person. The consequent dismissal of Jangbu Pinasa was both unfair and possibly unconstitutional. Though this reporter isn't sure, due to her lack of familiarity with said constitution. It is this reporter's feeling that Mr. Pinasa should be given his job back.

Editorial

While it is not the policy of this paper to print anonymous submissions, the following poem so neatly sums up what so many

of us are feeling at this time of year that we decided to run it anyway. - Ed.

Spring Fever

By Anonymous

Sneaking away during lunch -

Taco salad, the kind with the meat in it, and the Green Goddess dressing. God, why do they do that to us?

We find that Central Park beckons - Green grass and daffodils pushing their way out from underneath

a blanket of cigarette butts and crumpled soda cans. So we make a run for it - Did they see us? I don't

think so.

Can we get In-School suspension for a first offence? I guess anything is possible. Let's sit on the bench and try to get a tan ... Only to find, to our dismay, that we've left our sunglasses back in our lockers.

Please note: It is the policy of this administration to suspend any and all students who leave campus during school hours for WHATEVER REASON. Spring Fever is not an acceptable excuse for violating this school policy.

Student Injured by Globe

by Melanie Greenbaum

An AEHS student suffered an in-class injury yesterday due to a large globe that fell, or was dropped on his head. If it was

the latter, this reporter feels it necessary to ask: where was the adult supervision at the time said globe was dropped? And if it was the former, why is this administration allowing dangerous objects such as globes to be placed at heights from which they might fall and cause injury to our students? This reporter demands a thorough investigation.

Letters to the Editor:

To Whom it May Concern: The amount of malaise evidenced by the student body of this establishment is a personal embarrassment to me and a disgrace to our generation. While the students of Albert Einstein High School sit around, planning their Senior Prom and whining about their finals, people in Tibet are DYING. Yes, DYING. Clashes continue between the rebels and the Chinese military, making it impossible for many Tibetans to make even a meagre living.

But what is our government doing to help the people of Tibet? Nothing more than advising tourists to stay away. People, the Tibetans make their living from tourists who come to climb the Himalayas. Please do not listen to our government's warnings

to avoid Tibet. Encourage your parents to allow you to vacation there this summer - you'll be glad you did.

Lilly Moscovitz

AEHS Food Court Menu

compiled by Mia Thermopolis

Monday

Spicy Chix

Meatball Sub

Fr. Bread Pizza

Potato Bar

Fish Fingers

Tuesday

Nachos Deluxe

Indiv. Pizza

Chicken Patite

Soup & Sand.

Tuna in Pita

Wednesday

Italian Beef

Deli Bar

Burrito

Taco Salad Bar

Corndog/Pickle

Thursday

Fish Stix

Pasta Bar

Chicken Pharm.

Asian Bar

Corn/FF

Friday

Soft Pretzel

Buffalo Bites

Grilled Cheese

Bean Bar

Curly Fries

 Take out your own personal ad!

Available to AEHS students at 50 cents/line

Happy Ad

Shop at Ho's Deli for all your school supply needs!

New this week: PAPER, BINDER CLIPS, TAPE.

Also Yu-Gi-Oh cards, Slimfast

For Sale:

One Fender precision bass, baby-blue, never been played.

With amp, how-to videos. Best Offer. Locker No. 345

Looking for Love:

Female frosh, loves romance/ reading, wants older boy who enjoys same.

Must be taller than 5'8", no mean people, non-smokers only,

musician preferred. NO METAL-HEADS, nice hands a must.

Email: [email protected]

Happy Ad

Personal to from BP to LM -I'm sorry for what I did, but I want you to know that I still love you.

PLEASE meet me by my locker after school today and allow me to express my devotion to you.

Lilly, you are my muse. Without you, the music is gone. Please don't let our love die this way.

Happy Ad

From CF to GD: YES!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Ad

JR, I am SO excited about the prom, I can't STAND it, we are going to have SO MUCH FUN.

I feel SO SORRY for the rejects who aren't going to the prom. Isn't that just too bad for them?

They'll be sitting around at home while you and I are DANCING THE NIGHT AWAY!

I love you SOOOOOOOO much. LW

Happy Ad

LW - Right back atcha, babe -JR

Wednesday, May 7, Algebra

Well, I did it. I can't say it went over very well - in fact, it did not go over AT ALL well. But I did it. No one can say

I didn't do EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to try to get my boyfriend to take me to his prom.

Oh, God, but WHY did it have to be LANA WEINBERGER???? WHY???? I mean, ANYBODY else -Melanie Greenbaum, even. But no. It had to be Lana. I had to grovel to LANA WEINBERGER.

Oh, God, my skin is still crawling.

She was so not receptive to my offer, either. You would have thought I was asking her to strip naked and sing the school

song in the middle of lunch (no, wait - Lana probably wouldn't mind doing that).

I got to class early, because I know Lana usually likes to get there before the second bell to make a few calls on her mobile. There she was, all right, the only person in the room, yakking away to someone named Sandy about her prom dress - she

really did get a black ofF-one-shoulder one with a butterfly hem from Nicole Miller (I so hate her). Anyway, I went up to her - which I think was VERY brave of me considering every time I fall under Lana's radar she makes some catty personal remark about my physical appearance. But whatever. I just stood there next to her desk while she yammered into the phone, until she finally realized I wasn't going away. Then she went, 'Hold on a minute, will you, Sandy? There's a ... person who wants something.' Then she held the phone away from her face, looked up at me with those big baby blues of hers, and went, 'WHAT?'

'Lana,' I said. I swear, I have sat next to the Emperor of Japan, OK? I once shook the hand of Prince William. I even stood next to Imelda Marcos in line for the Ladies' Room at The Producers. But none of those events ever made me as nervous as Lana does with a mere glance. Because of course Lana has made tormenting me a special personal hobby of hers. That kind

of terror runs deeper than the fear of meeting emperors or princes or dictators' wives.

'Lana,' I said again, trying to get my voice to stop shaking. 'I need to ask you something.'

'No,' Lana said, and got back on to her mobile.

'I haven't even asked you yet,' I cried.

'Well, the answer is still no,' Lana said, tossing around her shiny blonde hair. 'Now, where was I? Oh yes, so I am fully

getting body-glitter and putting it on my - no, not there, Sandy! You are so bad.'

'It's just . . .' I had to talk fast because, of course, there was a strong chance Michael was going to stop by the Algebra classroom on his way to AP English, as he does almost every day. I did not want him to know what I was up to. '. . . I know you're on the Prom Committee, and I really think this year's senior class deserves live music at their prom, and not just a DJ. That's why I was thinking you should ask Skinner Box to play.'

Lana went, 'Hold on, Sandy. That person still hasn't gone away.' Then she looked at me from between her thickly mascaraed eyelashes and went, 'Skinner Box? You mean that band of geeks who played that stupid princess-of-my-heart song to you

on your birthday?'

I said, taking umbrage, 'Excuse me, Lana, but you shouldn't speak so disparagingly of geeks. If it were not for geeks, we

would not have computers, or vaccinations against many major diseases, or antibiotics, or even that mobile you are talking into—'

'Yeah,' Lana said briskly. 'Whatever. The answer is still no.'

Then she went back to her phone conversation.

I stood there for a minute, feeling colour rush into my face. I must really be making progress with my impulse control, since I didn't reach out and grab her mobile from her and crush it beneath my Doc Martens as I might once have. Being the proud owner of a mobile phone myself now, I know just how completely heinous doing something like that would be. Also, you know, considering how much trouble I got into the last time I did it.

Instead, I just stood there with my cheeks burning and my heart beating really fast and my breath coming out in these shallow little gasps. It seems like no matter what kind of strides I make in the rest of my life - you know, behaving with level-headed calmness in medical emergencies; knighting people; almost getting to second base with my boyfriend - I still can't seem to

figure out how to act around Lana. I just don't get why she hates me so much. I mean, what did I ever DO to her? Nothing.

Well, except for the whole mobile phone stomping thing. Oh, and that time I stabbed her with a Nutty Royale. And that other time I slammed her hair in my Algebra book. But I mean, besides all that.

Anyway, I didn't get a chance to get on my knees and beg her, because the second bell rang, and people started coming into the classroom, including Michael, who came up to me and gave me a bunch of pages he'd printed off the Internet about the dangers of dehydration in pregnant women - 'To give to your mom,' he said, kissing me on the cheek (yes, in front of

everyone: Tcha).

Still, there are shadows over my otherwise exuberant joy: one shadow is, I was unsuccessful in getting my boyfriend's band booked for the prom, thus making it more likely than ever that I will never have my Pretty in Pink moment with Michael. Another shadow is that my best friend is still not
speaking to me, nor I to her, because of her psychotic behaviour and mistreatment of her former boyfriend. Yet another shadow is the fact that my first actual published news story ever in The Atom reads so incredibly lamely (although they did publish my poem ... TRES TRES TCHA. Even if I'm the only one who knows it's mine). It isn't exactly my fault my story sucks so much, though. I mean, Lesley hardly gave me enough time to come up with something truly Pulitzer-prize worthy. I'm no Nellie Bly or Ida M. Tarbell, you know. I had a lot of other homework

to do, too.

Finally, everything is overshadowed by my fear that my mother might pass out again, next time not within sight of Assistant

Fire Chief Logan and the rest of Ladder Company Number Three, and of course by my overall dread that, for two whole months this summer, I will be leaving this fair city and everyone in it for the distant shores of Genovia.

Really, if you think about it, this is all entirely too much for one simple fifteen-year-old girl to bear. It is a wonder I have been able to maintain what little composure I have left, under the circumstances.

When adding or subtracting terms that have the same variables, combine the coefficients.

Wednesday, May 7, Gifted and Talented

STRIKE!!!!!!!!!!

They just announced it on TV Mrs. Hill is letting us crowd around the one in the Teachers' Lounge.

I have never been in the Teachers' Lounge before. It is actually not very nice. There are weird stains on the carpet.

But whatever. The point is that the hotel-workers' union has just joined the busboys in their strike. The restaurant union is expected to follow suit shortly. Which means that there will be no one working in the restaurants or the hotels of New York City. The entire metro area could be shut down. The financial loss from tourism and conventions could be in the billions.

And all because of Rommel.

Seriously. Who knew one little hairless dog could cause so much trouble?

To be fair, it is actually not Rommel's fault. It is Grandmere's. I mean, she never should have brought a dog into a restaurant in the first place, even if it IS OK in France. It was weird to see Lilly on TV I mean, I see Lilly on TV all the time, but this was a major network - well, I mean, it was New York One, which isn't exactly national or anything, but it's watched in more households than Manhattan Public Access, anyway. Not that Lilly was running the press conference. No, it was being run by the heads of the hotel and restaurant unions. But if you looked to the left of the podium, you could see Jangbu standing there, with Lilly at his side, holding a big sign that said LIVING WAGES FOR LIVING BEINGS.

She is so busted. She has an unexcused absence for the day. Principal Gupta will be so calling the Drs Moscovitz tonight.

Michael just shook his head disgustedly at the sight of his sister on a channel other than Fifty-Six. I mean, he is fully on the side of the busboys - they SHOULD be paid a living wage, of course. But Michael is disgusted with Lilly. He says it's because her interest in the welfare of the busboys has more to do with her interest in Jangbu than in the plight of immigrants to this country.