I waited. Maybe we had embarrassed her at the auction. It was as if at any moment the Wicked Witch of the West would point her broom at me.
"I must say your boyfriend is truly talented. What a wonderful surprise to know that we had such a fine artist among us. It's a shame he'll be moving. We'd love to have his work in the auction next year."
"Uh... thanks, Mrs. Mitchell," I said, relieved. "Is Trevor home? We got our grades back from our English assignment."
"Come on in. Trevor's upstairs."
I quickly raced up the main staircase and found Trevor's bedroom door ajar.
I tapped it. "Hello.Soccer Boy?"
No answer.
I could have waited in the hallway, but that wouldn't have been any fun at all.
Trevor's room was still a shrine to himself. I nosed around his awards and trophies and framed soccer jerseys.
I noticed something large was covered in the corner. Maybe it was a mirror.
I snuck over to it and pulled back the cloth so I could take a peek.
Staring back at me was me -the final painting of Alexander's sold at the auction. I was shocked.
I heard the door begin to creak open and quickly recovered the painting.
"What are you doing here?" Trevor asked.
"Uh... I wanted to tell you we got an A."
"So?"'
"I just thought you'd like to know."
"What else would we have gotten? You're not used to getting good grades."
I had done my duty and there was nothing left to say. I started for the door when he blocked my escape.
I was alone with Trevor in his room-a dangerous place to be.
"Anything else you'd like to do?" he asked.
I wanted to say,Get that picture back, but I sensed Trevor wanted a stolen kiss-a treasure that was far more valuable than an A..
I'd never let myself succumb to that. Even if I wasn't dating Alexander, nothing would ever be sacred or special with Trevor.
I didn't mention seeing the painting. I was too touched and slightly bothered that he'd spent his money on a picture of me. It was ironic that Trevor would be the one to help Alexander buy back the Mansion and divert his father from his plans.
It would be awesome to throw it in his face. But I didn't dare do that to my partner.
I offered my hand instead. I figured I was safe with that.
He held it like he didn't want to let it go.
His golden hair was perfect against his suntanned face. I knew he wanted to kiss me-and I wasn't sure whether it was love or lust or just because I was a girl alone in his room.
"I know there's a part of you that wonders what it would be like," Trevor said.
"I already know," I said. "The cheerleaders have it written on the bathroom walls."