The Dating Deal (11 page)

It was kind of fun having everyone stare at us.   And stare, they did.  They were probably wondering what was so special about me.  Wondering why Trent had broken his rule and brought me, Megan The Mormon, of all people, to the dance.  It was a fair question.  But I didn’t have the answer.  I was as clueless as anyone else.  I was simply glad he brought me.

To be honest, the stares were all right.  I was prepared for them.  But I also noticed a bunch of dirty looks from various people (namely Caitlin, Aspen, Laura, and Conner).  However, I was pretty much able to overlook them, since I was having the most incredible night of my life.  Trent was an awesome escort, even if it didn’t seem as though we were going to actually dance.

Instead we talked with friends, and sometimes just each other.  And it was great.  Perfect.  I loved being with Trent.  Loved that he was my date.  That he had brought me here and bought me dinner, and my beautiful wrap.  I was in heaven.  What did I care if we danced or not? 

Still, I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have Trent take me in his arms, and … 

Stop it! I scolded myself on more than one occasion.  Trent doesn’t dance.  Don’t torture yourself dreaming about it.  Just enjoy being here with him.  He’s being so nice and sweet and considerate.  Enjoy it while you can.  After tonight the deal is over.  Face it, he may never talk to you again.

I did, of course, listen to myself, as I was wise and full of great wisdom.  I loved being with Trent, and getting his devoted, undivided attention was something special that I would cherish forever and ever.  It was wonderful.  Everything was wonderful.

So, I enjoyed it.  Majorly.

Only, at one point, I found myself staring at Conner and Laura out on the dance floor.  I couldn’t help thinking about past dances when it had been me in Conner’s arms, me he whispered to as we swayed to the music.

“Do you want to dance?”  The words were whispered in my ear, sending my heart aflutter.

Huh?

I whipped around to face Trent.

“Wh—what?” I stammered, embarrassed that he’d caught me watching Conner and Laura.  I’d probably had a wistful, woebegone look on my face.  And now he felt sorry for me. 

I reddened.  “No.  That’s okay.  I know you don’t like to dance.”

“What are you talking about?” Trent said, leading me onto the dance floor.  “I
love
to dance.”

I laughed at the way he said that, especially ’cause I knew it was so untrue, but my laughter stopped when he took me into his arms.  Then my heart sped up, and my mouth went dry. 

“We’re good together,” he said.

It was so true I couldn’t even speak.

All I could do was think, “This is the best night of my life.”

*  *  *  *  *

After that slow dance, Trent and I danced every dance for a long, long while.  I was having a blast.  And to my bliss and utter surprise, Trent was too.  He seemed as surprised as anyone.  But boy oh boy, could that boy dance! 

I was starting to work up a sweat.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Trent, heading for the girls’ room.  On my way, with my luck, I stepped in a wad of gum. 

“Great!” I muttered.

I tried scraping it off in the bathroom.  I grated it for like, ever against the rim of the smelly trashcan.  But no use.  It was still sort of sticky.  It would bug me when I danced. 

Grrrr! 

I looked around in frustration.  I didn’t want to spend the rest of the-best-night-of-my-life trying to get gum off my shoe!  Finally, I found a nail file (on the yucky bathroom floor!) and used that.  I had to sit in a stall while I scraped.  Stunning.

When I got back to the gym, I looked all over for Trent.  Finally, I spotted him across the room.  Caitlin had him cornered.  Poor Trent!  He was all alone, while Caitlin had her arm draped around Shane Franks.  I knew what he must be going through.  I felt it every time I saw Conner and Laura together.  He needed me.  I rushed to Trent’s rescue, flinging my arms around him as though I did that sort of thing all of the time. 

“There you are,” I said, maybe a little over-loudly because I was nervous about what I was going to do.  I kissed him.  On the mouth.  And it turned out kind of passionate-like, though I hadn’t meant it to.

“This is
not
happening,” Caitlin growled, leading Shane toward the door.

When I pulled away, Trent looked bewildered and amazed.  “I thought you said no kissing.”

“I meant you can’t kiss me,” I told him, breathlessly.  “I can kiss you.”

He raised his eyebrows, still looking amazed.  “Obviously.”

I felt wobbly, like I might topple over, and it had nothing to do with my high-heels. 

“Let’s dance,” I said, acting as though that was why I was suddenly leaning against him.  But really, it was that kiss.  It had me weak in the knees.  Woozy.  I honestly had only meant it to be a sweet, little peck, not fireworks.  What happened?

But just dancing with Trent did strange, unexpected things to me, left me feeling giddy.  I closed my eyes and pretended he was really my boyfriend, that this wasn’t all a strange act.  And maybe some of it wasn’t … right?  I mean, he didn’t have to buy me the wrap.  What did he
do
that for?

In the bathroom, when I told Nina about the gift, she jumped up and down saying how romantic it was.  “He loves you,” she gasped.  “He
adores
you.”

I bit my lip.  I knew that wasn’t true.  It couldn’t be.  “Maybe it’s just like he said,” I told her.  “Maybe he just bought it to thank me for letting him use my song.  And he’s incredibly nice.  He saw me drooling over it in the store.   He probably just decided to take pity on a sad, pathetic soul.”

“He’s incredibly nice?” Nina raised her eyebrows, starting to jump all over again.  “You love him.  You
adore
him.”

“I do,” I admitted distraughtly.  “I love him.  I adore him.”

As I said, that whole conversation took place in the girls’ bathroom.  That is, after I checked under all the stall doors to make sure Nina and I were alone.  I would never, ever admit my pathetic predicament to anyone else in the whole world.  It was more than just a crush.  I was in deep, head-over-heels like with Trent Ryan, the coolest guy in school.  Tragedy, tragedy, tragedy!

“Why did you even bother to take me to the dance?!”

Like everyone else, I whipped around to see who was yelling.  I widened my eyes when I saw who it was—Laura!  She was yelling at Conner out on the dance floor.

Conner tried to calm her down, stop her from making a bigger scene.  But Laura pulled away from him saying no, she wouldn’t calm down.   I got the feeling she had been drinking, a lot.  She seemed unsteady as she yelled, “You’ve been staring at her all night.  Why didn’t you just take
her
to the dance?” 

Laura stormed away, and Conner followed after her.  I watched them go feeling a mixture of things: curiosity, bewilderment, shock.  But something else too.  I couldn’t help it—I felt sorry for Conner.  He hates scenes almost as much as I do.

Nina rushed over to me, dragging Justin with her.  “You know that was about you, right?”  Her eyes were round with excitement.  “I told you he’s been looking at you all night.”

Nina
had
mentioned, about a hundred times, that Conner was staring at me.  Looking at me longingly.  Looking at me as though he was sad that it was Trent holding me in his arms rather than him.  But the thing about Nina is, she’s a romantic.  The hopeless kind.  She reads romance into everything.  So, as much as I’d wanted to believe her, that Conner was dejected and pining for me, I just didn’t.

But now, I guess I had to take what she was saying as at least plausible because Trent agreed.  “Yeah,” he said.  “The guy’s been staring at you all night.”

I tilted my head.  “He has?” 

I guess I’d gotten too wrapped up in being in Trent’s arms to pay much attention to Conner.  That realization made me smile.

Only, I think Trent took the smile to be happiness that Conner was finally missing me.  ’Cause his next words were, “So, I guess our deal worked.  Caitlin’s bugged, Conner’s remorseful.”  He shrugged.  “Good job, huh?”

I had a funny feeling in my stomach.  Like this was the end of our deal.  Like Trent felt it was complete.  But I didn’t want it to be.  It wasn’t over!  Not yet.  I … didn’t want it to be.

“Can we dance some more?” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

He looked at me quizzically.  “Sure.”

It was a slow dance, and he took me in his arms and I held on to him super tight.  I didn’t want to let go, not ever.  All night, he had been so, so incredibly sweet.  It was like a fairy tale—but I didn’t want it to be a fairy tale.  At the stroke of midnight I didn’t want to have to leave the Ball.  I wanted the Ball to go on forever.

Suddenly, I was tapped on the shoulder.  I turned with surprise.  It was Conner.  “Can I cut in for a second?”

I looked up at Trent questioningly.  “Sure,” he said, backing away.  “I’ll be outside.”

Conner took me in his arms, and it felt different than being with Trent.   Not better, but extremely comfortable, like old times. 

“I thought you left,” I told him.

“I did.  I took Laura home.  But I couldn’t get you out of my head.” 

It was only now that I realized something.  I could smell
alcohol
on him.  Conner had been drinking! 

Just this Sunday he had stood up on the stand saying how important and special the church was to him, and yet what did he turn around and do tonight?  He drank!  Realizing that was enough to make me cry.  But Conner went on, breaking my heart.  “I can’t take this,” he said.  “I miss you.  I miss us.  Laura and I, we’re over.  I mean it.  It was a mistake, the whole thing.  I see that now.”

It was strange to hear him say this, the exact words I wanted to hear, had desperately longed to hear.  But I hadn’t pictured it like this, his spouting it with alcohol on his breath.

Still, even with that, I could have forgiven him.  Chucked it up to being under a bad influence.  Bad, bad Laura.  That seemed to be what he was expecting, telling me how he needed my “guidance” in his life.

No joke, I could have so easily forgiven him, let things go back to the way they were.  I was tempted to.  Pathetic, but true.  Only I kept remembering a conversation we’d had right after our break-up:

“You made everything so complicated,” Conner had said.  “I got further with Laura on our first date than I ever did with you, ever.”

He’d said that to me.  It had made me feel like he was a stranger.  Someone I didn’t know.  Someone I didn’t
want
to know.

And this whole time we were apart—his avoiding the church, and drinking, and no longer being able to take the sacrament …

No, things couldn’t go back to the way they were.  They couldn’t.  Not ever.  He had changed—or, rather, he was never what I’d thought.  And he had betrayed me.  Betrayed my trust.  And now he had done things I didn’t even want to know about.  Things that made him unworthy to take the sacrament.  He wasn’t my Cody any more.  Now he was just Conner, a guy I used to date.

Conner’s next words made me blink.  “So can I give you a ride home?  And we’ll start over?”

I gazed at him as though he’d lost his brain, ’cause really it seemed he had.  “No,” I told him.  “You can’t take me home.  Trent brought me here.  Trent will take me home.”

“Megan, you don’t know that guy.  He’s just playing games with you.  He’s a player.  That’s what he does.  He gets a girl to fall for him, breaks her heart, then he’s on to another girl.”  Conner ran his hands through his hair.  “It’s a game.”

I bit my lip.  Maybe that was true.  I’d seen it happen a lot, girls falling for Trent.  Him roaming from girl to girl.  But Trent seemed so sincere.  Was that part of his act?

“Look,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I actually felt, “this has nothing to do with anything but the dance.  I came with Trent and I’m leaving with Trent.”