"Leaving so soon?" "I thought I was done with you!" I shouted.
"Done? You're always trying to break my heart, aren't you? Does this mean our engagement is off?"
"Let's go, Trev," Matt said. "We've got things to do."
"You know you love this, Monster Girl. If it wasn't for me, no one would pay attention to you."
"And I'd be the luckiest girl in the world."
"I'll see you in the car," Matt impatiently told Trevor.
"I'll be right there," Trevor replied, then leaned into me. "If you want to be the luckiest girl in the world, you'll go with me to the Snow Ball."
Trevor was asking me to a dance? And of all dances, the Snow Ball? The big school dance where plastic icicles and snowflakes hung from the gym rafters, and fake snow covered the gym floor? He'd show up with me on his arm in front of all his friends? The soccer snobs and the hundred-dollar-haircut girls? It had to be a big joke. I'd be gussied up, waiting at my house, and he'd stand me up, or he'd dump a bucket of red goo on me like in Carrie. But even if he was serious, even if by some miracle Trevor really did like me, I couldn't go to the ball with him. Not now that I had met Alexander Sterling.
"It'll be a night you'll never forget," he said seductively.
"I'm sure it will, but I don't want to have nightmares for the rest of my life."
"Just can't tear yourself away from Nick at Nite."
"No. I'm already going."
Trevor sneered. "Stag? Or with an inflatable doll?"
"I have a date." Becky gasped, but she and Trevor weren't the only ones surprised by my rash words.
"In your dreams! I was only asking you out of pity. No one else would show up with you, unless he was dead."
"Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?"
"I'm leaving," Matt shouted from the car. "Are you coming?"
"Thanks for the ice cream, psycho," Trevor said, getting into the Camaro. "But next time remember, I prefer Rocky Road."
I watched my double-dip Chocolate Attack screech away.
"I'd offer you mine, but I know you don't like pure vanilla," Becky said consolingly.
"Thanks, but I have bigger things than ice cream to worry about. Like getting a date!"
Every time the phone rang, my heart jumped. Was it Alexander? And when it wasn't him my heart would break into a million pieces. It had been two long days since I had seen my Gothic mate. I was so preoccupied with Alexander, dreaming of the next time we'd be together, nothing else mattered. I didn't wash the spot where his tender love lips had pressed against my flesh. I was acting like I was straight out of a Gidget movie! What had happened to me? I was losing my edge! For the first time in my life I was really afraid. Afraid of never seeing him again and afraid of being rejected.
If I asked Alexander to the dance, he might freak out. He might say, "With you?" or "No way, not a lame, school dance. I'm so beyond that! And I thought you were, too." I was beyond that, even though I'd never gone to any dances to actually get beyond them. I wouldn't be going to homecoming or the prom or any of the other dances scheduled throughout the school year. I would stay home with Becky and watch the Munsters on TV. But Trevor's challenge had forced me to fight back, with a weapon that I didn't even have: Alexander.
This feeling of not being able to eat or sleep was new to me. To hang my heart on every ring of the phone, to scream at the top of my lungs for Billy Boy not to tie up the line with his addictive web surfing, not to be able to watch Nosferatu without crying, or to listen to a silly, sappy, drippy, lovesick Celine Dion song without thinking she had written it just for me--I wanted it all to go away.
I think some people call this love. I called it hell.
And then it happened. After two long, torture-filled days. When the phone rang, I thought it was for Billy Boy, and when Billy Boy called my name, I thought it was Becky. I was ready to pour my heart out to her. But before I could speak, I heard his dreamy voice.
"I couldn't wait any longer," he said.
"Excuse me?" I asked, surprised.
"It's Alexander. I know guys aren't supposed to call right away. But I couldn't wait any longer."
"That's a stupid rule. I could have moved."