It Started with a Bet... (Watty Awards 2011)

"No matter what happens, I don't want us to stop being friends."

"No matter what happens, I don't want us to stop being friends."

"You know, I don't have your number." Trevor puts his arm around my shoulders on the way to English. It's been two weeks since the bet started. Why he keeps prolonging asking me out I don't know.

"You pretty much know my schedule, you see me every day and you know where I live. Now you want my number?" I give him a look of joking alarm. "Stalker much?" He just laughs, oblivious to the girls glaring at us.

Why shouldn't they glare? If I’ve learned anything about Trevor over the past few weeks that he’s spent permanently glued to my side, it’s that he’s smart, sensitive and reasonably conservative: a guy you'd totally be okay taking home. And he's a work of art. That's what makes him so popular, I think. The fact that you know he'd never hurt you if you were to go out, but also the fact that he'd never go out with you. For whatever reason, he plays hard to get.

"There are girls glaring at us," I say with a smile, trying to move his arm. He laughs and puts his arm back around my shoulders.

"So? You're not afraid of them, are you?" I think about this for a second.

"No."

The eyes follow us into English, the curses cutting into my back as Trevor sits down next to me. I want to laugh. It's a game, I tell myself, a game. All the kindness, the smiles and the joy. All a game to him. Why I have to remind myself, I don't know. But as he passes me a note when the teacher turns to face the board, I remind myself again. A game.

What are you having for dinner?

And odd question. Is he inviting himself over?

I don't really know yet.

Mind if I come over?

What's today, Thursday?

Parents gone?

Yeah.

Poor baby ;) Sure, come on over.

I have something to tell you then. Don't let me back out.

He turns back to the teacher, his face flushed. He scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment as if he knows I'm staring at him. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. I've been enduring this junk for far too long for him to back out on me. It's only been two weeks. Can he really feel guilty already? It seems unlikely. Is this another part of the game? A hint that he'll ask me out? But acting nervous like that seems...very devious for Trevor. When the bell rings he gets up and leaves without even looking at me, his face flushing as he passes. I don't understand.

Christa corners me on my way to my next class.

"Well?" She seems kind of upset.

"Well what?"

 Ashley pops up next to me, her eyes wide.

"We've heard the rumors. Has he asked you out yet?" Oh, it's about that. But what have people been saying?

"What rumors?" I ask. Christa comes closer to me. Her anger and sadness waft off her like a light perfume.

"You guys hang out together all the time, he sits next to you in all your classes, people say he doesn't hang out with Janice anymore at all." It's about time, really. He doesn't care much for Janice anyway. That is obvious. Christa's eyes plead with me. "Teach me."

"Teach you what?"

"How you got him to get that close to you. It's only been two weeks too! What did you do?" I understand now. Christa has an enormous crush on Trevor. Typical.