The guy in the photos has the same Fiddler’s Neck pattern as Boris (as I know only too well, having seen him shirtless playing water volleyball at the palace pool back in Genovia when he used to be allowed to visit there with Tina).
So despite Boris’s protests—and Michael’s—those pictures aren’t Photoshopped. The story has to be true.
Although I guess Michael hasn’t really driven me sex mad, so maybe it isn’t true. Ugh.
I always thought when I became an adult everything would become less confusing, but unfortunately, everything’s only become more confusing.
“Boris says that girl could have hacked into his phone, then wrote all those mean things about me because she’s obsessed with him,” Tina went on. “You know, stalker style. He says she’s jealous of me. But none of that seems very likely . . .”
“Tina!” I gasped. “You say that like there’s nothing for her to be jealous of. You know perfectly well how hot you are. You’re the hottest, most beautiful woman I know.” This, at least, was not a lie.
“That’s sweet of you to say, Mia, but I’m not as hot as her,” she said with an unhappy sigh. “Have you seen her? She’s totally rocking that Brooklyn hipster music blogger thing.”
“And I will be more than happy to yank that ring right out of her septum if you’d like me to. I can always claim I tripped and grabbed it by accident.” To my relief, Tina started to laugh. “No, really. People will believe me, because I have a reputation for being a klutz, but I’m also a princess, and princesses never lie.”
HA HA HA HA.
“Aw, thanks, Mia,” she said. “That’s what I love about you. You’re the loyalist friend ever. Anyway, I don’t know what to do. Boris told me that new song of his, ‘A Million Stars,’ is about me.”
Ugh! I don’t want to be that girl—the girl who tells someone not to give her ex another chance, especially right after that person’s just called her the “loyalist friend ever.”
Because, of course, there’s always a chance Michael is right, and the thing with Boris really is only a misunderstanding. And this is America. We love forgiving people, then letting them have a second chance.
But that doesn’t mean “A Million Stars” isn’t the worst, cheesiest, most horrible song ever.
Which, of course, is only my opinion. The Borettes love it so much they’ve made it the number one bestselling song of all time ever. You can’t go anywhere—any elevator, any store, any airport, any hotel lobby, any restaurant, not even New York’s Times Square—without hearing it being blared over a set of speakers.
Worse, in the video for it (which is also played everywhere constantly), Boris is singing to a girl who is dying in a hospital bed, and Boris is telling her (lyrically) that he’ll give her a million stars (plus his love) if she’ll just find the strength within herself to not die, and love him forever.
Of course the girl is so moved by this hot rocker dude’s amazing song that she doesn’t die. Because it is a medical fact that people with fatal diseases only need a hot rocker dude to sit on the edge of their hospital bed and sing them a rock ballad in order to give them the strength to go on living.
People actually believe this stuff! At least the Borettes do.
Both the song and the video have made me hate Boris Pelkowski so much more than I already did (for breaking Tina’s heart) that now whenever I hear or see either of them, I begin grinding my teeth. I’ve even started doing it in my sleep, and have to wear a night guard, which is so not sexy when Michael stays over.
Although he says he’d rather have me wear a big rubber mouth guard in bed with him than for me to have tiny little nubs for teeth someday.
• Note to self: Which, if you ask me, is actually way more romantic than some rocker dude singing to a girl on her deathbed. But no one asked me.
“So what did you say when Boris told you he wants to get back together?” I asked Tina cautiously.
“I said I’d have to think about it. Just because he has over five million Borettes following him on Twitter doesn’t mean I’m ready to follow him.”
Thank God, I thought.
But aloud I only said, “That was very wise.”
“And maybe it’s better we break up now anyway to spare ourselves future heartbreak. What’s going to happen when I graduate and have to move away from New York to do my residency. Or when I’m with Doctors Without Borders. I’m not going to be able to follow him around on tour like some little Borette. I have my own career to think about.”
“Totally,” I said, thrilled.
“So I told him that right now I really need to concentrate on acing my exams, but that maybe we could talk later.”
“Well, I think you did the right thing.” This was lie number two. I do think Tina should concentrate on her exams, but I’m not so sure she should talk to Boris later.
“Thanks, Mia,” she said. “It’s just so hard, you know, because every time I go online or turn on the TV, there he is, being interviewed about this forty-city tour, looking all buff from working with that new trainer of his.”
“I know.” Lie number three. Boris doesn’t look that good, but then, he’s never exactly been my type. “Honestly, Tina, I have no idea what I’d do if I were in your shoes.”
Lie number four. I think about what I’d do if I were in Tina’s shoes all the time, which is ridiculous, since Michael’s the best boyfriend ever (or the best boyfriend he can be, considering what he has to put up with, dating a royal).