The Dating Deal (5 page)

Maybe that’s why it was so hard for me to let go of Conner.  He was the only boy I felt comfortable around.  And that was only because we had been together for so long.  It was different when he first moved into our ward.  I hadn’t really paid that much attention to him.  In fact, I couldn’t even remember his name.  All I could remember was that it started with a “C.”  I used to call him all sorts of strange things—Corey, Conrad, Chris.  Then, once, at a joint activity for mutual, I had to announce his name for a skit.  Only I introduced him as Cody.  Everyone laughed, including him, but I didn’t even realize what I’d done.  His name
wasn’t
Cody?

Afterwards, I apologized.

“That’s okay,” he said.  “You can call me whatever you want.”  He looked into my eyes.  “Just call me, okay?”

I’d stared up at him with surprise, and he smiled.  “Or I could call you,” he said. “Only I guess you wouldn’t know who I was, the name’s
Conner
.”

“Conner.  Right,” I murmured, my mind trying to grasp what was happening.  I’d just turned sixteen.  Finally old enough to date.  The only problem was, I looked about twelve.  But, looks aside, I
could
date if I wanted.  Only no one seemed interested.  Until now.  Conner seemed interested.

“I was wondering if you want to go to the game with me tomorrow,” he said.  “You can call me Cody if you want.”

And so that’s what I always called him, Cody.  I don’t think I ever called him Conner once.  Not back then, while we were dating.  But now things are different.  Now I take great effort to think of him as “Conner.” After all, we aren’t together anymore.  Now he’s supposed to be just a boy to me, like any other.  Nothing special.  So I revoked his special name. Only, it’s still kind of hard for me to think of him as Conner.  In my heart, it seems he’ll always be Cody.

*  *  *  *  *

“I can’t believe you wimped out on giving Trent his cookies,” Nina complained at lunch.  “You promised.  And it would have been your first time to give him cookies in person.  It would have been like a stepping stone or something.”

I looked at her like, huh?

“Well, you know, we used to give them to him anonymously.  But now, it was going to be like a new phase in your life, giving them to him in person.  A milestone, saying, ‘You’ve come a long ways, Baby’ or something like that.”

I got what she was saying.  I did.  And, yeah, maybe it would have been a maturity-thing for me, a turning of the page in my book of life or whatever.  Maybe.  But I didn’t have time to think about it because just then Trent sat down beside me and my brain turned to Jell-O.

“Where’s my cookies?” he said.

 “Cody called me yesterday!” I told him excitedly, getting the cookies out of my backpack.

Trent raised an eyebrow at me quizzically, “Who?”

“Oh, um—Conner.”

Trent grinned.  “No wonder you guys broke up.  You can’t even remember the poor guy’s name.”

“That’s her ‘special’ name for him,” Nina explained.  “She’s been calling him that forever.”

“But not anymore,” I told them, as though I had made a life altering decision.  “He’s lost his ‘special name’ privileges.”

“Whoa.  Tough love,” Trent said with a grin.

I ignored his teasing, too pleased about Conner’s call.  “Anyway, he called me.  He was upset about our act in the cafeteria yesterday.”

Trent raised his eyebrows.  “Just think if I would have kissed you.  He would be yours right now and you wouldn’t even be stuck going to the dance with me.”

He said that as though going to the dance with him was a major chore I had to endure.  But I knew he didn’t really believe that.  I was pretty sure he knew I had a crush on him.  I’m a blusher; it gives stuff like that away.

“These are good cookies.”  Trent gave them a once over, suddenly seeming amused.

I gave a nervous laugh.  “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.  I was just remembering something.  Back in the eighth grade, I used to get my locker raided with peanut butter cookies.”  He gave a little laugh.  “Not that I’m complaining.  It was just funny.”

Nina gave me a sideways glance, but I was busy trying to act innocent.  “Uh, who—who was doing it?”

Trent laughed again.  “I don’t know.  I guess she found someone else to bake for.  Too bad, though.  I miss those cookies.  And it was cool, you know?  A surprise.” He munched on another cookie.  “These taste like those cookies.”  He raised his eyebrows, grinning.  “Want my locker combination?” 

I didn’t have time to come up with a witty comeback (as if I could).  Just then Caitlin breezed up to us.  “Trent, can I talk to you for a second, alone?”

“Sure,” he said.  “Do you want a cookie?  Megan made them for me.  They’re really good.”  He put his arm around me, making no move to do as Caitlin requested—talk with her alone.  “Do you know Megan?  Megan this is Caitlin.  We used to date.”

“But now I date Shane Franks,” Caitlin told him curtly.  “And I hear you’re dating Megan the Mormon, here.  Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.  Is it true?  Because I don’t believe it.”

Trent shrugged.  “We’re going to the dance together.”

Caitlin eyed him incredulously.  “You’re really going to a school dance?”  The information seemed impossible for her to choke down. 

He nodded.  “I really am.”  Then he added, “With Megan.”

Caitlin glanced over at me, giving me such a look of contempt I was afraid I had a booger hanging out of my nose.  What was with her?  She didn’t even know me.  How could I possibly bug her so much?

“I don’t believe this,” Caitlin said.  “What are you planning on doing with her after the dance?  Have milk and cookies?”

Trent shrugged, taking another bite of his cookie.  “Yeah, maybe.  These are really good.”

Scowling at him, Caitlin opened her mouth as though she was going to say something else.  Only she didn’t.  Instead, she stalked away.

I watched her storm off, still dazed by her open hostility.  “Well, I guess the deals working,” I said.  “Your taking me to the dance really seems to bug her.”

Trent grinned.  “Told you.”  He took another cookie.  “But what about you and Conner?  Are you sure you want him back?”

The way he asked the question, it was as though he was certain our deal would work and that Conner would come crawling back to me.  He made it sound as though whether Conner and I reunited or not would be my decision.  Which was crazy, but I answered him truthfully anyway, since he seemed to want the truth.  “I don’t know.”

There was a time, not long ago, the answer would have been a definite, desperate,  “Yes.”  But now I wasn’t so sure.  My heart wanted him back.  My heart ached for him.  But my head told me, “No.  Megan, he cheated on you.  He lied to you.  He
dumped
you.  You deserve better.”  And sometimes I was strong enough to listen to my head instead of my wimpy heart.  Sometimes … just not very often.

Every day for the rest of the week, Trent ate lunch with Nina and me.  Obviously, it was to stir up Caitlin and Conner, work the deal.  But it was cool having him around.  He was a nice guy.  And funny.  (And cute and adorable and …)  I had to keep reminding myself he was all wrong for me, and that his affectionate attention was simply an act, but it was hard.  He was a good actor and I was a sap.

Friday during lunch, Caitlin came up to us again.  “So, you kids having fun?” she asked, sounding as though we were toddlers playing in a sandbox.  “Enjoying your little prayer meeting?”  She ditched her cheerful act, scowling at Trent.  “What are you
doing
with these losers, Trent?”

Trent stood up.  “Watch who you call losers.  Megan’s really sweet.  She’s nothing like you.”

Caitlin shot him daggers with her eyes.  “You’re unbelievable.”

Trent shook his head.  “No.  You’re unbelievable.  You want to date a drug dealer?  I can’t stop you.  Go ahead and make stupid choices.  But don’t put Megan down for making the right ones.”

Again, Caitlin shot him daggers.  She said a curse word under her breath as she stormed away.  We all watched her go in silence.  Finally, I asked sadly, “She’s getting into drugs?”

Trent ran his hands through his hair, looking sort of miserable.  “Caitlin’s into ‘recreational stuff’ as she puts it.  But you know, stuff like that, it just gets worse.”  Trent studied me.  “Well, I guess maybe you don’t know, but it does.”

I bit my lip, feeling sad.  Poor Caitlin.  I knew she despised me, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her.  It was weird.  People got on unexpected paths.  “Sometimes life is really hard,” I murmured.

“Yeah,” Nina said reflectively.  “Just like your song.”

Trent’s eyes lit up with interest.  “What song?”

“Oh.  It’s nothing,” I said, embarrassed.  He was in a band.  He was excited because he thought Nina was talking about
his
kind of music,
that
kind of song.  “It’s for church.”

“It’s
not
nothing,” Nina protested.  “Megan writes beautiful songs.  And we’re singing one of them in church this Sunday.  Megan has a solo.”

I kicked her under the table.  Nina only laughed.  “What?  It’s true.  And what are you afraid of anyway?  That he’s going to come to church and hear you?”

Trent surprised her by saying, “I am.”

I choked on the water I was drinking, almost keeling over. 

“What?!” I gasped.

Trent raised his eyebrows, looking serious.  “I’m going to come hear you sing.”

*  *  *  *  *

Trent Ryan was planning to come to our church?!  I couldn’t believe it.  I could barely drag Conner to church most Sundays when we were dating and he was a member—and my boyfriend.  What was up with Trent?  Caitlin wasn’t the only one baffled by this new side of him.  I was too.  Apparently, so was Nina.

She wouldn’t shut up about how romantic it was that Trent was coming to hear my song.  Once Trent left, for the rest of lunch, she gushed on and on about it.  “First he saves you from Aspen’s wicked attempt to humiliate you, then he defends you against Caitlin who supposedly broke his heart, and now he’s going to church to hear you sing.”  Nina beamed.  “Trent Ryan is going to
church
for you.”

“Not for me,” I pointed out.  “Nina, the guy is in a band.  He’s Mr. Music.”

“So,” Nina was still beaming, “you’re
Miss
Music.  The two of you are the perfect couple.  You can make beautiful music together.”

I bit my lip, wishing that was true.  But it wasn’t. 

“Nina, we don’t do the same
kind
of music.  Trent is going to come to church and laugh at me.”

“No he’s not.”  Nina sounded so sure of herself that I almost believed her.  I
wanted
to believe her, that was for sure.  “Your song is beautiful, Megan.”

I threw away the rest of my lunch, knowing Nina was right.  My song was beautiful.  My little brother, Brent, inspired it.  He died five years ago of leukemia.  The pain of losing him still ran incredibly deep.  The song was about how hard life can be sometimes, but how I can still feel Brent near me, and that I know I’ll see him again—on the road home.

My song
was
beautiful.  But it wasn’t Trent’s kind of song.

* *  *  *  *

I sat in Language Arts, trying to concentrate on Beowulf, but nothing would sink in.  Nothing but,
Trent is coming to church
?!

Even if he meant it at the time (‘cause I had to admit, he did look as though he meant it) I was positive he wouldn’t show on Sunday.  He would talk himself out of it.  After all, this was Trent Ryan we were talking about.  He had a reputation as a party-animal to protect.  Then again, he didn’t seem that interested in protecting it.  After all, he was letting the whole school think he had a romantic interest in me, Megan the Mormon.  And he was taking me to the dance.

But that would all end tomorrow.  Tomorrow
was
the dance.  Then the deal would be over.  He wouldn’t have to act interested in me anymore.  There would be no reason for him to come to church.