Chapter 28: 28. The Princess Diaries

The Princess Diaries is a series of epistolary young adult novels written by Meg Cabot. The series revolves around Amelia 'Mia' Thermopolis, a teenager in New York who discovers that she is the princess of a small European principality called Genovia. The series follows Mia's life throughout high school in the 2000s and juggling regular teenage life with being a royal princess. [Source: Wikipedia]

*****

Fun Fact: Nathan asked his eleven year old sister, Sawyer (a swiftie) for song recommendations.

*****

Chapter Twenty Eight: The Princess Diaries

The thrum of music echoed through the gym. The scream of delights fluttering through the air, the sounds of the soles of the shoes hitting the floor, the heat of the surrounding bodies enveloping us, but I wasn’t aware. I was acutely aware of a pair of green eyes gazing at me, a smirk tugging on his lips, as Nathan Callahan noted my every move.

“Is this what you call dancing?” He said, dryly, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“At least, I'm trying,” I replied, as I shook my shoulders along with the beats, while the rest of my body remained immobile.

“Aha,” He pointedly looked me over, from my moving shoulders to the rest of my stiff body, “Sure you are.”

Taking in his criticism, I tried to move my hips, but I ended up mimicking the move that dads do when they warm up, rotating their hips like they’re playing hula-hoops.

Nathan couldn’t his amusement any longer. He clamped his fist over his mouth, trying to tamp down the laughter shaking his shoulders. I was so, so bad at this. And with him looking so delighted, I forgot to be offended. Instead, I grinned while trying to move my arms as well.

“Please,” Nathan said, doubling over.

“Why?” I said, “Am I reminding you of your grandma?”

Nathan leaned on my shoulder for support, and I realized that I would do anything, including making fun of myself, to make him laugh. What a dangerous revelation.

“You just...,” He said, leaning back and staring into my eyes, then shaking his head. I stopped moving for a second to take notice of him.

“Are you having fun?” I whispered between us, as the music got louder. I really hoped he wasn’t regretting being here.

“You know what” Nathan opened his mouth to reply, as Theo started to circle us while shaking his hips. Nathan and I both turned to him as Theo bumped into us.

“I almost don’t,” Nathan said, while his eyes followed Theo disapprovingly.

My answer was a laugh and then a scream as Theo hoisted me up, holding my waist, and gave me a twirl. Then he released me right into Nathan’s arm. It was fortunate that he caught me in time before I went barreling towards the floor.

“I understand why you call him a neighbor!” I shouted over the music as Nathan moved me around.

“Oh, do you, now?!” He replied, as Theo twirled Leanna into the same way.

Everyone kept dancing like there was no tomorrow. Theo got hold of Nathan at one point. As I saw the helpless look on his face, I laughed to myself and slipped out of the dance floor.

It was no wonder I was done dancing before anybody else. I wasn’t athletic enough. All this jumping and moving around was making me sweaty and thirsty. So I looked for drinks and found nothing. I was making my way into the bleachers to have a seat when someone blocked my path.

“Is that you, Emily?”

I looked up, but not so much, since it was Simon Wallberg, who wasn’t the tallest person in the room. I raised an eyebrow at him.

I had been avoiding the debating club ever since the Interstate Debating Championship. Leanna hadn’t insisted on going to the club either. We had silently agreed that we didn’t debate anymore. So, running into Simon was a shock to my system.

Everything that had happened after the defeats in the championship floated into my mind; the photo of Simon and me looking cozy, the rumors about me dating him. The comments about my face, my hair, my nose and my general ugliness, along with his comment— lying that he had dumped me on that public Facebook post.

I liked to pretend I had forgotten all about it. But sometimes, I looked into the mirror, at my nose, my hair and remembered all of it, words and opinions from people I didn’t even know. The way Simon had quickly dismissed me. Not remembering it meant it hadn’t even happened. So that was what I stuck to.

Pretending that horrible thing hadn’t happened to me.

Perhaps that was why I stopped going to the debating club altogether.

As I looked at him, all that came rushing to my mind, and I tasted bile.

“I thought you were a genius,” I said, “Guess not.”

Simon levelled me with a look, and it seemed like he wasn’t too happy to see me either. The sentiment was mutual.

“So, who’s the date?” He asked, rooting in his spot, shoving his hands down his pocket.

“Excuse me?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Is it Nathan Callahan?” He asked, with a sneer. I frowned.

“Why do you ask?” I said, confused.

He scoffed with the confidence of a person who knew something vital, that I wasn’t privy to. The arrogance in his gaze was annoying. “Of course, he is.”

“Look, Simon,” I said, holding up my hand, “If you have something to say, spit it out.”

“I really thought you were clever. I mean, of course, you aren’t as smart as I initially thought, but I thought you have more critical thinking ability than most people,” Simon said, as if he was disappointed in me.

“Why would I care?” I said, “And why are you telling me this now?”

“I know, right?” He said, “I absolutely don’t need to do this. But since we were in the same debating team once, I thought I should at least let you know, because you seem clueless.”

I blinked at him.

“Emily, do I look like someone who fights?” He said. I looked him over, and he did not look like he could. “I fight with my brain. So, imagine my surprise when this guy comes to pick a fight with me, saying I have to delete a comment I posted jokingly on some post I didn’t care about.”

The dots started to connect inside my brain.

“A comment you told me to make. He threatened me in front of everyone. I kept thinking hard, I looked at you two, and I wondered if it was you who had put him up to that.” Simon said, “But then I realized, Emily would never do that.”

Looking at my face, he realized that was true.

“And I was right,” Simon said with a satisfied smile, “You have no idea.”

“Was it Nathan?” I asked.

“Yes, it was. He went behind your back and threatened me, probably because he just wants to fight. He is a violent person. And if I were you,” He said like he was an expert, “I would honestly keep myself away.”

“Who are you to-” I blinked at him slowly, the pressure building in my skull.

“You know, I’m right,” Simon said, cutting me off, “Be careful, Emily.  I don’t know what you see in him, but you really need to find someone better. Good luck.”

He said and turned away, leaving me there.

I pulled up my phone and searched up that post, the photo of us. When I opened it now, the comment section was clean. Not a single comment about me or my hair or my ugliness. I refreshed and it remained empty.

There was absolutely nothing there. I turned off the screen and dragged in a deep breath. My heart squeezed thinking back, about that time. We weren’t even that much of a friend, yet Nathan Callahan went behind my back to make Simon delete comments that I was upset about.

And Simon, too, was right. He didn’t fight with his hands. He thought he could spin this story the way he liked, trying to gaslight me. I glared at his retreating figure. I’d need to take care of that at some point, I thought.

At the same time, I thought how this was so on-brand with Nathan; being kind in a way nobody would find out. I didn’t know how I would look at him now and not be overwhelmed by the way my heart had started to beat.

As I turned around, I saw him standing right behind me, his gaze unfocused and his lips curled in a frown.

“Hey,” I said, waving my hand in front of him. “Hello.”

When Nathan finally focused on me, he took a step back.

“I was–uh–” He said and rubbed the back of his neck, “I was coming to ask you if you’d get back to dancing?”

He asked, unsure of himself. I looked around and noticed the dance floor had calmed down. I recognized the familiar tune. It was Perfect by Ed Sheeran. Everyone had started coupling up, pulling their dates into the dance floor for the slow dance.

“Yeah,” I said, looking back at him, but he was looking down at his shoes, lost in thoughts. When he didn’t reply or look at me, I took a step towards him.

“Nathan?” I said, “I said, I’d like to dance.”

“Right,” Nathan looked at me and blinked, “Yeah. Umm—” He stepped towards me, then looked around me, as if he didn’t know what to do next.

I smiled at his sudden awkwardness, grabbed his wrist and slipped my fingers into his, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Hmm?” He said, distractedly, looking at our joined hands. I moved one of his arms, and placed his palm on my waist.

When he looked at me again, my heart gave that same squeeze, like a painful tug of my heartstrings.

I knew these symptoms so well. But I decided to breathe through it for now.

“It’s not like you to be…” I said, placing my hand on his chest, “so unsure of yourself.”

“Oh?” He said, as we slowly made our way into the dance floor, both of his hands on my waist. I started to sway us.

“See, I can dance too,” I murmured into his chest as we moved.

Nathan laughed a little, “Yeah.”

I felt him pull me closer as his chin rested on my head.

I liked when he did that, I realized. I liked when he leaned down a little so he could reach me better, when he held me up so we could be eye-level with each other. As I breathed in his scent, and felt warm and safe, I thought how there was not one thing I would change about him.

It was sad, how he thought he was the bad guy. He had always been that son, that brother who never got the attention of his family, so he had probably ended up doing things he knew he didn’t like. Saying something mean, or starting a fight. Somewhere along that line, he had started believing he was the bad guy.

Yesterday, when he was sad, telling me how he thought I could never hurt him, as if he thought he could hurt me.

I wished I could show him how good of a person he was. I had a feeling he didn’t know. That he didn’t see himself, the way I did.

I rested my chin on his chest and looked up at him. He glanced down at me. My eyes suddenly welled up, and I quickly looked away.

“Are you enjoying down there?” Nathan asked, with a little mischief.

“Of course, I am,” I said. “What about you?”

The song was nearing its end. “This isn’t about me,” Nathan whispered.

I was about to ask him what that meant, but he pulled away, and said, “I have an idea.”

He walked backwards looking at me for a few steps and then turned around. I watched as he walked up to the DJ and started talking to him. They argued for a second, and then Nathan crossed his arm and glared. It made me laugh. The DJ looked dejected, then shook his head. Then he played the next song.

A familiar melody started floating from the speaker.

Nathan uncrossed his arms and took down the stairs from the little podium the DJ was on.

We were both young when I first saw you

I closed my eyes and the flashback starts

I'm standing there

The lyrics reached my ears as Nathan started walking towards me.  My eyes widened in realization, that he had told the DJ to play this song, for me.

For me.

See you make your way through the crowd

And say, “Hello”

Little did I know

He was making his way through the crowds. Some swifties standing close to the podium screamed and cheered, but every sound slowly turned into background buzz that I could ignore.

He was walking towards me, with his head down, his hands in his pockets as I stood where he left me; my heart beating in my throat, all of my pulse points coming alive, beating in rhythm of my heartbeats.

You were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles

And my daddy said, stay away from Juliet

The dance floor was crowding fast. The girls were pulling in their dates. My friends were gathering around. Some girls and guys were already screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs, confirming the fact that whether you love or hate an artist, some songs were classics, immortal and woven into your memory. When they come on, you have no choice but to be pulled into the vortex with it, screaming the lyrics or pretending not to dance.

Or in my case, stand there rooted in your spot as your vision turned a little blurry, your words vanished, your brain turned quiet.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

Sometimes, nothing happens in our lives for years, and sometimes everything changes in a matter of seconds. In my case, the seconds were Nathan Callahan stopping a few feet away from me, looking up, smiling shyly, as he said, “How’s that for song choice?”

You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess

It’s a love story, baby, just say, “Yes”

I swallowed my emotions, tried hard not to burst into tears, as I whispered, “Perfect.”

Nathan Callahan’s smile grew bigger as he crossed the rest of the distance and took my hands in his.

“And so are you,” He replied, as my breath seized, but it wasn’t the first time, or the last.

I let the words form in my brain. I let my whole consciousness be swallowed by it.

I was in love with Nathan Callahan.

*****

As soon as one of my favorite songs ended, the DJ played a song I didn’t know even though it was popular, judging by how everyone kept dancing and screaming. I grabbed Nathan’s wrist and slipped out of the dance floor. We both sat down at the bleachers, side by side, and I let go of his hand.

When I glanced at him, he was facing forwards, his hands clasped in his lap, engrossed in his thoughts once again.

It was clear how introverted both of us were. As much as I liked the idea of prom, dancing the whole night away wasn’t in my repertoire. My social battery was already running low. Along with that, the intensity of my feelings were increasing every passing seconds.

Nathan glanced at me. I looked away. I was suddenly scared of the fact that I would blurt out something sinister. I needed to stop thinking about my feelings.

“Umm, I have been noticing something,” I said.

“What?” He asked, leaning back a little.

“You don’t call me Kingsley, anymore.”

“Oh,” Nathan nodded, “Yeah. You said you hated your name.”

This subject was not good for me, or my raging heartbeats either.

“So, you started calling me Emily to annoy me,” I offered.

“Of course,” Nathan said. Liar, I thought.

“Jokes on you, I didn’t get annoyed once,” I said as I looked at his face, “I think it’s growing on me.”

Nathan’s lips twitched a little, “Good for you, Emily.” He said, pointedly, my name once again in his lips.

My cheeks hurt. And he wouldn’t meet my eyes. We watched our friends dancing, having the time of their lives.

“Do you want to get out of here?” I whispered, a moment later.

“Do you?” He whispered back.

*****