Royal Blood

Unfortunately the next guy's face I had to see was Trevor's.

"We haven't answered everything," my nemesis said, finding me on the lawn after school.

"I think you can fill in the blanks," I replied.

"I can give you a lift home. We could do it in the car."

I glared back.

"I mean the assignment," Trevor said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'd rather walk."

"When are you going to admit that you are avoiding me because you're hot for me?"

"When hell freezes over."

"You should know about hell-you live there. How about you step up to the plate and finish the job?" Trevor challenged.

I thought for a moment. I was slightly taken with the idea of having my owngoth fashion magazine like Becky and I had discussed, but I couldn't possibly share that with Trevor. I'd only be ridiculed. Instead I said, "Okay, Soccer Boy. Figure out a career for me. Something that will make me money so I can be self-reliant."

Trevor opened his notebook. I could see several typed pages of his essay were already complete.

"What's wrong with a man taking care of you?" he asked."Someone rich.And powerful."

"I already have that." I admitted.

"And blond."

"I like dark hair."

"And popular."

He did have me on that. Neither Alexander nor I were popular.But Trevor Mitchell? He could have been voted prom king in the first grade.

"Isn't fame important to you?" he asked, inching closer."Everyone knowing your name?"

"I think they already do."

"But not for the right reasons," he said with a chuckle.

"I'm not interested in being famous. I'm interested in being me."

Trevor shook his head and jotted a few notes down in his notebook. "So where did we leave off? Do your parents want you to follow in their footsteps? "

"No. Is this over yet?" I whined.

"What do you like to do on a rainy day?" he asked.

"Sit outside."

"What do you like to do on a sunny day?"

"Sleep."

"Doyou think of yourself as creative?"

"No."

"You don't?" he asked, surprised. "With the way you dress and make yourself up? I think you've always been creative. Like a clown."

"Do you want me to take you down now? Or do it in front of the class?"

"Calm down. What is your favorite outfit?"

"Hmm.My corset prom dress."

"When you close your eyes, who do you dream about?"

"Alexander."

"If you had one guy in school to kiss, who would that be?" he asked, leaning toward me.

"This isn't on the sheet. None of these questions are, bonehead!"

With Trevor, sometimes it was difficult to keep straight who was kidding who.

"I was just making sure you were paying attention.Fve finished the interview portion. Now I can just write the essay."

"So- we don't have to meet again?"

"I've finished my part," he said coyly, and gave me the completed interview sheet. "Now it's time to finish your questions about me."

Trevor's interview sheet was blank. I quickly jotted down some answers to the questions and handed it to him.

"You won't get an A for handwriting," he said.

Trevor and I rose and dusted the dirt off our jeans. "Our next date will be in front of class," he said.

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of kindness toward him, as he had inadvertently helped Alexander remain in the Mansion.

"I'm off to meet my father," he said as he got into hisCamaro . "Did you hear? My dad might buy the Mansion."

I stopped dead in my tracks.

"What did you say?"

Hegrinned a wicked grin. "I was waiting to tell you until after I got my interview portion completed... We were talking about the Mansion at dinner last night and how word around town is no one will buy it because it's a hideous money pit. My dad said that the land upon which it sits is valuable property in its own right. It will be cheaper to hire a wrecking ball and bulldozer. Just thought you'd want to know. It'll make a great strip mall."

I was floored. I had no idea my own plan would turn against me. And of course, Trevor was just the person to do it.

"No- you can't buy it!" I said,my body filled with rage. "You can't buy it-and you can't tear it down."

"I know I can't, Monster Girl. But my dad can."

Trevor's father owned half the town ofDullsville . I wouldn't ever want Benson Hill to fall into that half.

"I'll tell my dad to save a few bricks when he tears it down. You can have them as a souvenir. I won't charge you very much, since they're worthless," he said, and rolled up his window and sped off.