The Dating Deal (2 page)

“Oh.”

“You might want to keep that information to yourself,” Trent said.

I nodded, smiling.  “Ok.  But Wendy sure loves you.  She talked about you all the time.”

“Yeah?”  Trent stared into my eyes, making me feel wobbly.  “She talked about you a lot, too.” 

Now this is the part I’m not quite clear on.  We stood staring at each other for a moment.  To me it was a magical moment full of blooming affection.  But I don’t know.  Maybe it was just an awkward lull in the conversation and my head wasn’t screwed on quite right.  I’m not sure.

Finally, Trent spoke.  “Are you going to open it?”

“Open?”  I glanced down to where his eyes had wandered—the wrapped gift in my hands.  Duh!  “Oh,” I said, quickly opening the package.

It was a Winnie the Pooh journal with a purple pen.

“Wendy said you like Winnie the Pooh and purple,” Trent explained.  “And she said you like to write poems and stuff.  So, I guess she thought you could write them in there.”

I smiled, incredibly touched by the gift.  “Tell her thank you so much.”

Trent stuck his hands in his front pockets, gazing into my eyes.  “I will.  Or you could tell her.”

“Oh.  Yeah.” 

We stared at each other again.  “Well, I don’t want to make you late for class,” Trent said, backing away.  “See ya.” 

Then he was gone, lost into the crowded hall of students, and I was left with my heart beating wild and out of control.

But that had been months and months ago and Trent hadn’t said another word to me since.  Not until today when he said I was going to the dance with him—and he hadn’t even said that to me, really.  He had said it to Aspen and the class.

It had sure been nice of him, though, to come to my rescue like that.  I owed him, big time.  I thought about making him some peanut butter cookies after school, maybe not even anonymously.  Maybe I would give them to him in person.  Or maybe not.  Maybe I could just write him a nice thank you note to go along with the cookies and leave them on his doorstep.

Trent came up to me after class, once everyone had left.  “So, we’re going to the dance?”

“Oh, that’s okay,” I said, gathering up the visual aids from my presentation.  “You don’t have to take me.  I appreciate it, though.  I mean, you really helped me out.”

“Then help me out,” he said softly.

“Huh?”

“Come with me to the dance.  Caitlin and I just broke up.  I need a date, you need a date.  Let’s just … date.”

I smiled, so pleased I felt I could float away.  It wasn’t just a sweet ruse to get Aspen off my case, after all.  He really meant it.  We were going to the dance. Together. For real.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Trent grabbed my arm, pulling me back as I started to skip away.  “Also, I was thinking.  Maybe we could take this thing a step further, I mean more than just the dance.”

I tilted my head at him questioningly.

“I mean, you want to get Conner back, right?  I think you can.  You just need to let him see what he’s missing, what a great girl you are.”

I stared at him with surprise.  How did he know I wanted Conner back?  And how could he possibly know what a great girl I am?  This was only the second time he’d ever spoken to me in my entire life. 

“Are you doing this because of Wendy—for Wendy?”

Trent blinked.  “No.  This isn’t a noble gesture or anything.  I don’t do stuff like that.  It’s a deal.  We’re making a deal.  You want to get Conner back, and I want to bug Caitlin.  Trust me, you and me dating, that would bug Caitlin.”

What did
that
mean?!  “Why?”

He laughed.  “You know, how you’re Miss Goodness and Light—it bugs her.”

I dropped my jaw.  “I’m Miss Goodness and Light?” 

“Look, don’t take it the wrong way,” he said, although I couldn’t see any other way to take it.  After all, he said I bugged Caitlin.  Apparently, I was annoying.  “Anyway, do we have a deal?”

“I don’t think so,” I said.

Trent furrowed his brow, looking discouraged.  “Why not?”

“First of all, Conner might fall for the dance thing.  Maybe.  It would look like both of us desperate for last minute dates.  I can see him reasoning how that could happen.  But us getting together for real?  He wouldn’t buy it.”

“Why not?”

“Because he knows me.  You’re not my type.”

Trent ran his hands through his hair, looking impatient.  “What’s your type?  I can be your type.”

I grinned at his confidence.  “No you can’t.  Look, I’m Mormon.  ‘Megan the Mormon,’ that’s what they call me.  Haven’t you heard?”  Maybe he hadn’t.  Jefferson was a big school and I wasn’t exactly the talk of it—though, apparently, I was more so than I’d thought.  I had no idea I was “Miss Goodness and Light.”

“Yeah.  So?”

“So, I don’t drink or go to parties, and I don’t date guys who drink and go to parties.  I only date Mormons.  Conner knows that.” 

Suddenly, I saw a huge flaw with the whole dance idea.  Trent wasn’t going to enjoy it.  Besides the fact he didn’t go to school dances, he didn’t date girls like me either.  After all, I wasn’t going to spike the punch or have a make-out session with him.  I wasn’t a wild party girl.  Far from it.  I was … Megan the Mormon. 

“You probably don’t even want to go to the dance with me,” I told him.  “It’s not only that you’re not my type, I’m not yours either.  Like I said, I don’t go to your type of parties, and I don’t drink.”

“Well, maybe you should,” Trent said.  “It could help you get your mind off Conner.  Help you relax.”

I rolled my eyes ’cause that was just stupid, but also ’cause why oh why did he know I was still moaning over Conner?  How did he know that?  I tried my hardest to appear indifferent to Conner.  Why didn’t I seem to fool anyone?—
anyone
—not even a guy that had no interest in me whatsoever until today when he saw an opportunity to bug his ex-girlfriend?

The conversation was quickly filling my stomach with knots.  I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.  Conner had hurt me, betrayed me.  I shouldn’t want him back anyway, but faking a relationship with a guy I was attracted to—one that was bad for me—it didn’t seem like a good idea.  It just didn’t. 

“Well, see ya around,” I said.

I started to walk away, but Trent grabbed my arm.  “I was just messing with your head,” he said.  “I won’t drink, okay?  I’m not an alcoholic or anything.  I can go a night without drinking.”

I sighed.  “And you’d be willing to do that?”

He nodded.  “Sure.  I’ll do it.  So you’ll go with me?”

I sat in the cafeteria, slurping tomato soup from my thermos, only half listening as Nina gushed on and on about how romantic it was that Trent was taking me to the spring dance.  Blah, blah, blah.

“He’s only taking me to annoy his ex-girlfriend,” I reminded her for the hundredth time.  “It’s not exactly romance material.”

Nina shrugged.  “It kind of is.  Megan, he’s taking you to the
dance
.  Trent doesn’t go to school dances.”

Couldn’t argue with that.  So I didn’t bother. 

But I figured Caitlin must have really broken his heart.  Otherwise, why was he taking such extreme measures to make her jealous or whatever he was doing?  Still, no matter the story, I couldn’t work up much excitement about the date.  The whole thing had me sweating.  First of all, would Trent keep his word about not drinking?  I didn’t want to have to get into an argument about that.  It would be just so much easier to avoid the situation, to not go to the dance.  And there was “second of all” looming over my head too.  I was too infatuated with Trent to be the first girl he ever took to a school dance.  Everyone would be watching and I would be a spaz.

I sighed.

Nina nudged me, trying to cheer me up.  “It was sweet of him to come to your rescue in class.”  She grinned.  “He slammed Aspen big time.”

That lifted my spirits.  Considerably.  I grinned, snatching a french fry from Nina’s tray.  “That he did.”

Just then Conner walked by holding hands with Laura.  Seeing them together, so couple-ish, was like having a knife jabbed into my heart.  Oh the pain!  I could have cried right then and there, right in the middle of the cafeteria.  Only suddenly, there was a reassuring arm around my shoulders. 

“Don’t look sad,” Trent advised in my ear.  Suddenly he was right beside me.

I swallowed, shocked to have Trent Ryan—Trent Ryan!—sitting so close, whispering in my ear, WITH HIS ARM AROUND ME.

“Do I look sad?”

Trent grinned.  “Well, now you don’t.  Now you look shocked.  But yeah, you looked sad.”

I gazed down at the table.  I
was
sad.  Conner—or The Back-Stabbing Snake— whatever you want to call him, was my very first boyfriend.  The only one I ever had, ever.  And he had hurt me, really bad.  I didn’t know how to act.  It wasn’t something I could help.  It was simply a fact: seeing him with Laura caused me pain.

“He’s looking at you,” Trent said.  “Look at me.  Look into my eyes.”

I did as Trent advised, but he had no idea at what cost.  Staring into his warm brown eyes brought my crush on him zooming back to the surface, as though it had never gone away.  My heart was suddenly doing flip-flops. 

“I’m going to make you cookies,” I told him, warningly.

Trent smiled. “Well, don’t panic, but I’m going to kiss you.”

Of course, that
did
make me panic.  I lurched away from him so fast he kind of fell forward.

“I’m—I’m sure that’s not necessary,” I stammered, backing away even further.  “I’m sure Conner gets the point.”

Trent looked amused.  “Is it really that scary to you, being kissed by another guy?”

The way his eyes twinkled made me blush.   But the thing was, this was all a game to Trent.  And even if it wasn’t, (which, of course it
was
) he was all wrong for me.  I didn’t want to get too attached. 

“Look, no kissing okay?”

Trent still looked amused.  “Relax.”  He snatched a french fry from Nina’s tray, his eyes never leaving mine.  “So what kind of cookies are you going to make me?”

I was so flustered I was about to blurt, “Peanut butter,” but Nina gave me a quick—necessary—kick under the table. 

“What’s your favorite?” I asked instead, all wide-eyed and innocent.

 After lunch, I drifted out of the cafeteria, feeling wobbly after spending so much time staring into Trent’s gorgeous eyes.  They were warm and brown, like … Root beer. 

I spotted Brian Abbott just outside the cafeteria door.  He was with his girlfriend, Raven.  They were deep in conversation.  I didn’t want to disturb them, but …

“Hey, Brian,” I said.  “Don’t forget we’re practicing our duet after school.”

“Oh yeah, right.”  Brian smiled.  “I won’t forget.”

I kept moving.  I didn’t want to make a nuisance of myself.  I just wanted him to make it to the practice.  I
needed
him to make it.

Brian called after me, “Did you bake more cookies?”

I grinned, turning back to him.  “You’ll have to come to the practice to find out.”

Actually, I had a baggie of chocolate chip cookies in my locker with his name on it.  Incentive cookies.  I found it was way easier to get him to come to my practices if I baked for them.  It worked tons better than my old tactic:  begging and pleading.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll be there.”  Brian’s smile broadened.  But Raven (I’m sure of it this time) gave me a dirty look.  It made me feel funny.  What was that about?  I didn’t know how to ask.  Instead, I clumsily backed away.