The Princess and the Absolutely Not a Princess Read online

Princess Miranda had stopped breathing. Through her nose, that is. She was trying to breathe only with her mouth so she wouldn’t have to smell the hideous egg. The owner of the disgusting egg kept putting on and taking off a pair of ugly glasses and was busily writing in her You Journal.

  Miranda didn’t know what she was supposed to write in the journal. She didn’t understand anything Miss Kinde had said. Plus, she didn’t have a pencil. But even if she did have a pencil, she wouldn’t have known what to write. She hated writing. And reading. And school. And hard-boiled eggs! She felt alone and stared at. Every few minutes, someone else in 3B turned around to look at her.

  Miranda didn’t mind being stared at when she walked down a red carpet between QM and KD (King Dad). Safe between her parents, she was happy to give a little wave and a smile. But being stared at in school felt different. In a bad way. The princess felt all alone at her slightly sticky desk and chair.

  She looked up at the clock on the wall and was filled with dread. The clock hadn’t moved at all! She’d be here for another six and a half hours. Miranda didn’t think her first day of school would ever end.

  She missed Madame Cornelia and desperately wished something terrible would happen that would let her skip school for the rest of her life (but not something too terrible that would ruin her shoes). She closed her eyes, rubbed her temples, and sniffed. The horrible egg smell was making her headache even worse.

  She had known that school would be full of noisy children. She had known that there would be teachers and tests. But she hadn’t realized that the grossest food in the universe would be right next to her! Everyone knew Miranda hated hard-boiled eggs. How could she be sitting right next to one? Didn’t the girl next to her know who she was?

  The princess tried not to breathe, but the hard-boiled-egg smell was getting stronger.

  Finally, after several centuries passed, a bell rang, and Miranda and the rest of 3B left the classroom and went to a horrible smelly place where they were told to eat. But Miranda couldn’t eat, even though the castle chef had packed her favorite cheeses, along with fresh croissants and fruit.

  After that, 3B went to another loud and smelly room where a woman laughed as she hurled balls over some kind of net. Finally, 3B went back to 3B, where Miss Kinde told them a million things about after-school clubs, and then about three million rules were announced over the loudspeaker. Then, finally-finally, the dismissal bell rang.

  Miranda dragged her aching feet and head down the long hallway, out of school, and over to the carpool lane, where Blake had parked the fancy automobile.

  “That goes against rule number forty-nine,” she heard a voice call from above.

  The princess looked up and saw the hard-boiled-egg girl sitting in a tree.

  “According to the Official Rules of Mountain River Valley Elementary, cars can’t park in the carpool lane. And they can’t pick up one child.”

  Miranda ignored Maude and crawled into the back seat of the royal automobile.

  She had done it.

  She’d gone to school for an entire day.

  She only hoped she wouldn’t have to do it ever again.

  7

  UP A TREE

  Even though it went against rule number ninety-seven, Maude was sitting up in the oak tree in front of school. Principal Fish was so busy dealing with students who had broken first day rules (running, chewing gum, spitting, running while chewing gum and spitting) that she figured she’d get away with it.

  It was a sunny afternoon, and Maude was happy to be outside, but she was getting hungry watching the jump-roping club eat ice pops over in the playground. Behind them, the gardening club munched veggies. Maude took out a small pair of binoculars from her pants and focused them on the gardening club’s tomato plants. There were lots of tomatoes growing on the vines.

  No fair, she thought. Why didn’t my plant grow tomatoes? She would have liked to ask the gardening club gardeners, but Hillary Greenlight-Miller was president, and Maude didn’t spend any more time with Hillary than she had to. How annoying that Hillary got to wear glasses and eat homegrown tomatoes even though she didn’t really like gardening. Hillary just liked being president, which was why, in addition to the gardening club, she was president of the marbles club, the yo-yo club, the homework club, and the practice Mandatory National Reading and Writing and Math Exam club, of which she was the only member. Maude wasn’t in any clubs, because Hillary was in all of them.

  But still, Maude thought, even with her archnemesis Hillary Greenlight-Miller, 3B seemed much better than 2L. When Maude got home, she’d tell her dad and brother just that. Then her brother would define a word she didn’t know, and her dad would ask her if she’d learned anything. Maude closed her eyes in thought. Miss Kinde was nice, and she really liked her You Journal, but Maude couldn’t think of anything she’d learned. Her classmates still weren’t interested in anything she liked, and not one of them had asked her what she’d done over summer vacation.

  Her stomach growled. I learned that one hard-boiled egg isn’t nearly enough lunch, she thought. Then Maude remembered how Princess Miranda had said hard-boiled eggs were revolting. Maude opened her eyes. She had learned something! She’d learned that princesses were rude!

  Rudeness was a kind of injustice, Maude thought. Rudeness shouldn’t be tolerated! Feeling motivated, Maude packed up her binoculars, swung herself out of the tree, and roller-skated home in a record-breaking six minutes.

  When Maude got home, she took off her skates, climbed up twenty-seven slightly crooked stairs, and burst into her house. “You’re never going to believe it!” she called.

  “I always believe you, Maude,” her dad said. Her dad, Walter Matthews Mayhew Kaye VIII, was doing a headstand, as he’d been when she’d left him that morning. Maude’s dad had many interests, including yoga, beetles, juggling, soup making, and reciting quotes to his children every morning.

  Maude’s brother, Michael-John, was also where she’d left him, which was in sheep pajamas, hunched over a stack of dictionaries.

  “There’s a princess in my class this year,” Maude announced, petting Rudolph Valentino, her beloved dog.

  Walt lowered his left leg, Michael-John turned to page 802 in a musty dictionary, and Rudolph Valentino yawned, then farted.

  “Do you want a snack, my little mountain pine beetle? There’s some cheese on the counter.”

  Maude looked at her father and then her brother, who was still reading. “Did you hear me say there’s a princess in my class? An actual, real-life princess. She sits next to me since we’re in alphabetical order.”

  “I heard you.” Walt lowered his right leg. “William Shakespeare wrote, ‘My crown is in my heart, not on my head.’ Does your princess wear a crown?” He flipped so he was suddenly sitting cross-legged in front of Maude.

  “She’s not my princess,” Maude told him. “And no, she wasn’t wearing a crown. Just loads of pink, which I learned is the worst color in the world.”

  Walt smiled. “That’s a matter of opinion. I like pink. So, my coconut rhinoceros beetle, have you and the real-life pink princess become friends?”

  Maude stared at her father. For someone who knew so much about so many things, he was totally bananas. “No,” she said. “I have absolutely, positively not become friends with the princess.” And I never will, she thought.

  8

  WHEN MIRANDA GOT HOME

  When Miranda slowly walked into the castle, QM and KD were waiting in the entryway.

  “How was the first day, darling?” QM asked eagerly.

  “What did you learn?” KD asked. “Tell me one thing.”

  “Did you make friends? Is your teacher nice?” QM asked.

  “Did you have enough to eat?” KD smiled at her.

  Staring at her parents in their fancy clothes, Miranda realized there were not enough words in her vocabulary to describe her first day of school. How could she explain all the rules? Or how often and loudly the bells rang? What about
the way the children in 3B stared at her? And, perhaps most strange of all, how she, Princess Miranda, known hater of hard-boiled eggs, had been offered a hard-boiled egg! How could she explain all this?

  “There . . .” Miranda choked out. “There was . . .”

  QM and KD smiled eagerly.

  “THERE WAS A HARD-BOILED EGG!” Miranda shouted. Then she ran past her parents, through several long hallways, and up several spiraling staircases, before entering her wing and collapsing on her enormous, perfectly made bed.

  The princess stayed in bed for the rest of the day. And the night. She wished, more than anything, that she could stay there forever. Unfortunately, just after sunrise, her parents rushed in.

  “Good morning, sunshine!” QM beamed.

  “It’s the second day of school!” KD shouted happily.

  “I can’t get up,” the princess said. Even though she’d been in bed for many hours, she hadn’t slept and felt tired. And miserable.

  “Of course you can get out of bed,” KD said cheerfully.

  The princess shook her head. “I’m sick.”

  QM put her hand on her daughter’s forehead.

  “It’s my stomach,” the princess said. “And my head.”

  “You’re going to school, Miranda,” KD told her.

  “Can’t Madame Cornelia come back?” Miranda begged. “She could give me homework.”

  “No,” QM said. “Madame Cornelia finally retired. She’s not coming back.”

  The princess scowled.

  “Your father and I have come to believe that school is better than having a royal tutor come here.” QM looked at all the fabulous things in her daughter’s room. There was the Victorian dollhouse that was big enough for Miranda to stand in, a hammock suspended from the ceiling, a ninety-inch pink television set, and a wall of very organized nail polishes. “It’s good for you to spend time out of the castle with people your own age.”

  Miranda rolled onto her side and looked at the pink wall. People her age? People her age didn’t know the difference between the color chartreuse and the color cerulean! If her endless first day of school had taught her anything, it was that people her age wore ugly shoes, chewed gum, and talked with their mouths full.

  Not that they talked to her. They just stared at her and then whispered and giggled. Normally, being a princess made Miranda feel different in a special way, but yesterday she had just felt different in a weird way. Why didn’t anyone else jump when the loud bells rang? What was the Mandatory National Reading and Writing and Math Exam, and why did everyone in 3B groan every time Miss Kinde mentioned it? She didn’t understand what the kids talked about either. What was an allowance? And why on earth would anyone have a pet chicken?

  Chickens, the princess thought with a shudder. Chickens laid eggs! Spending time with people her age meant spending time with people like the hard-boiled-egg girl!

  “I can’t go to school,” she moaned.

  “Of course you can,” said KD. “Why couldn’t you?”

  “It smells,” the princess said. “And it gives me a terrible headache.”

  QM lifted the pink blanket off of the princess.

  “Up and at ’em, Miranda,” KD commanded. “You’re going back to school.”

  9

  MIRANDA GOES BACK TO SCHOOL

  The second day at Mountain River Valley began with an assembly, during which experts expertly explained the best way for students to bubble in the green answer sheets for the practice Mandatory National Reading and Writing and Math Exams they would take all year.

  For everyone except Hillary Greenlight-Miller, the assembly, like the exam, was painful and boring. Princess Miranda did not understand a word, and Maude spent most of the time looking for her You Journal in her messy messenger bag. When she finally found it, she doodled this:

  After the assembly, 3B walked back to 3B, which was stuffy and warm. Miss Kinde passed out long sheets of green paper and thick test booklets and opened the classroom windows. Miranda was grateful for the fresh air, but then Maude put three pencils, a long feather, and two hard-boiled eggs on her desk!

  Miranda gasped.

  Miss Kinde, thinking the princess was concerned about the test, ran over. “This is a Mandatory National Reading and Writing and Math Exam,” she explained.

  The princess rubbed her aching head.

  “Don’t worry,” her teacher said. “It’s only a practice test. You’ll take many practice exams.” She sighed as if this made her very sad. “The real exam is at the end of the year.”

  The princess nodded, although she knew she wouldn’t make it to the end of her second day, let alone the end of the year.

  “Just do as well as you can,” Miss Kinde added.

  “I don’t have a pencil,” the princess said quietly.

  “Oh.” Miss Kinde looked around, her eyes stopping on Maude. “Maude, may Miranda borrow a pencil?”

  Maude scowled but handed one to the princess.

  “You may begin, class,” Miss Kinde said.

  While 3B bubbled in their ovals, the classroom lights flickered, and Miranda’s head pounded. Just reading the questions made her so tired and weak that she could barely hold Maude’s terrible pencil. The point was so dull that Miranda had to use all the energy in her hand to fill an oval. And she soon discovered that the pencil had barely any eraser, so when she tried to erase answer three, the sheet ripped.

  Then a gentle breeze breezed into 3B and swept the hard-boiled-egg smell right into Miranda’s nose. She closed her eyes. Two hard-boiled eggs were so much smellier than one.

  The princess opened her eyes and glanced at the hard-boiled-egg girl. Maude’s test booklet was closed, and she was writing in her You Journal.

  Miranda’s heart sank. How could Maude be done already? Miranda had about eight hundred more questions to bubble in. And what was Maude writing? Miranda hadn’t written a single word in her stupid You Journal.

  Another breeze forced so much hard-boiled-egg smell into the princess’s nose that she sneezed, very loudly, three times in a row. The class turned to look at her. She sneezed again, and her eyes began to water. She couldn’t hate hard-boiled eggs any more!

  Something orange landed on her desk. The princess stared at it. She was afraid to touch it because it was covered with sticky bits and some kind of fur.

  “It’s a handkerchief,” Maude whispered. “You can use it.”

  Miranda shook her head, which made her nose drip.

  “You don’t want my handkerchief?” Maude hissed.

  “No,” the princess muttered. She thought of her collection of handkerchiefs back in the castle. They were clean, and silk, and, thanks to Madame Cornelia’s instruction, folded into perfect triangles! Now those were handkerchiefs!

  “Your nose is dripping, but you won’t use my handkerchief, even though it was in the famous War of Jenkin’s Ear?”

  “Class, you have three minutes left,” Miss Kinde announced.

  Three minutes, the princess thought. Three minutes to get through eight hundred questions.

  “Are you too good to use my handkerchief?” Maude whispered.

  What does good have to do with it? Miranda wondered. She just wanted to be left alone in her wing of the castle for the rest of her life. The princess closed her eyes and pictured her beautiful, quiet room. She missed her shoes, her closets, and all of her nail polishes. She missed all the time she used to have to organize her things and arrange her furniture. She sneezed again. And again. And again. If only she’d brought a real handkerchief! And a gallon of perfume.

  “Do you think you’re better than me because I’m just a humble social justice activist?” Maude asked.

  Miranda didn’t understand Maude’s question or any of the questions on the practice exam. She didn’t know why someone would put hard-boiled eggs on their desk or get mad when someone else didn’t want to use a filthy bandana.

  “One minute remaining,” Miss Kinde said sweetly.

  Ex
cept for Maude and Miranda, all the other kids in 3B quickly finished filling in their ovals. Tears welled in the princess’s eyes as she looked at her nearly blank answer sheet. She had no answers.

  “Well?” Maude asked.

  “It smells,” Miranda said finally. “The bandana smells and so do your rotten eggs! Isn’t there a rule about hard-boiled eggs in school?”

  “No!” Maude said. “There is no rule about eggs!” With that, she grabbed her handkerchief and stuffed it into her pocket.

  Princess Miranda breathed a small sigh of relief. Then she looked down at her practice Mandatory National Reading and Writing and Math Exam and felt miserable all over again.

  10

  DAY THREE AT MOUNTAIN RIVER VALLEY ELEMENTARY

  Maude (who had stayed up late reading about growing tomatoes) and Miranda (who couldn’t fall asleep on school nights) were both tired on the third day of school. But that was the only similar thing.

  Maude wore an orange shirt that said FIGHT THE POWER, her dirty brown cargo pants, two different colored socks, and combat boots.

  Miranda wore gold wedge shoes and a very shiny pink pantsuit.

  When the bell rang, Maude (who had overslept again) rushed to her desk and set out her You Journal, three hard-boiled eggs, her harmonica, and five pencils.

  Miranda put some things on her desk, too. She still hadn’t found a pencil, but she’d brought a small pink candle, a diamond box of tissues, and a doily to cover her desk. She lined everything up in a very neat row.

  “You can’t light that candle,” Maude told her. “It breaks rule seventy-seven. No burning sticks, leaves, homework, metal, or candles on school grounds.”

  “I’m not going to burn it,” Miranda said quietly. “I just smell it.” She picked the candle up and breathed in the sweet smell of “violets in the rain.” If she kept her nose on the candle and closed her eyes, she could almost pretend she didn’t smell the revolting hard-boiled eggs.