We left Trevor by the refreshments and for the next hour, Alexander and I rocked and rolled until I was seeing hearts. Finally we were both so exhausted, we headed back to the punch bowl for a pick-me-up.
Mr. Ferguson took center stage and stood in front of the Caped Crusaders. "I'd like to thank you all for coming out tonight for Viva las Valentines!" he said into the microphone to massive applause. "I'd like to thank the Decorating Committee for volunteering their time and transforming the gymnasium into a valentine paradise."
"Go, Becky!" I shouted, clapping for my best friend who was standing next to me.
"And finally to Shirley's Bakery for the candies and refreshments," Mr. Ferguson continued.
"Now we're applauding the punch bowl," I whispered to Alexander.
"I am very pleased to announce tonight's King and Queen."
"Woohoo!" a soccer snob shouted over the sound of applause.
"Drumroll, please…," Mr. Ferguson commanded.
The crowd stood quiet as my study hall teacher opened a letter-sized valentine.
"I'd like to present to you this year's Prom King…Trevor Mitchell."
Trevor high-fived his soccer-snob teammates and ran up onstage like he was receiving the World Cup.
I rolled my eyes. "Big surprise. When Daddy owns all the land in Dullsville," I whispered to Alexander, "he can afford to buy his son a throne."
Heather came over to Trevor, who was now standing center stage, waving to the crowd, and placed a silver staff in his hand and a crown on top of his blond locks.
"And this year's prom queen…" Mr. Ferguson opened the second valentine and began to say, "Jen—"
Jennifer Warren started for the aisle.
Mr. Ferguson's eyes bulged out like Jameson's. He cleared his throat and said, "I mean, Raven Madison."
The crowd went quiet.
"Raven Madison," he said again.
I stared at Trevor, who gave me a triumphant wink.
All eyes were on me as the spotlight hit my face.
"This must be wrong," I said to Alexander.
Jennifer Warren stood stunned at the foot of the stage. "This is my senior year! I demand a recount!"
Becky started clapping. "Raven, Raven!" The other promgoers were as shocked as I was, but they joined her.
"Raven! Raven! Raven!" the crowd began to cheer.
"Get up there," Becky said, pushing me toward the stage.
I gathered my dress and walked up the few stairs toward the stage. It felt like an eternity, walking in slow motion, as I headed over to Trevor and Mr. Ferguson. Heather came over, gave me an evil look, put a silver faux-diamond-encrusted tiara on my head, and handed me a bouquet of red roses.
I awkwardly smiled as the crowd cheered. I felt like I was in a scene from Carrie. I now knew what my payback from Trevor would be. He'd imagined that I'd be excited that I, the school oddball, had been chosen by the student body to be Prom Queen. At any moment, just like in the horror film, a bucket of pig's blood would fall on me, embarrassing and belittling me in front of the whole school.
Only I had a different weapon than Carrie had.
A Victorian parasol.
I opened my elegant umbrella and glared back at Trevor, then the crowd.
I waited. And waited. And waited.
Nothing came down. Not even heart-shaped confetti from the ceiling.
I stared out into the crowd of Dullsville High faces, all looking confused. Then it hit me and I realized my fate.
Trevor had a far worse plan for me than embarrassing me with pig's blood—he wanted to dance with me in front of the whole school and, most important, Alexander.
"This dance belongs to Prom King and Queen, Trevor Mitchell and Raven Madison," Mr. Ferguson announced.
All eyes were on me. I wanted to run, but I was surrounded by staring students.
Trevor gripped my hand harder than a goalie holding a soccer ball.
I saw Alexander, who stared back at me, his eyes lonely, clapping with the rest of the students. I felt awful holding another guy's hand in front of Alexander, especially the hand of my nemesis.
Trevor led me down the steps of the stage and pulled me onto the center of the dance floor.
The lights dimmed, and red hearts danced around the gymnasium walls and floor.
I could barely breathe. Trevor put his arm around my waist and pulled me close.
I was dizzy from the lights and the music. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't invite Alexander to come with me to prom to watch me dance with Trevor Mitchell.
I didn't care what prom protocol dictated or who Trevor had paid off.
I pulled away from my nemesis. "You fixed this," I yelled over the music. "I'm not really Prom Queen. This dance belongs to Jennifer Warren."
"Don't ditch me in front of the whole school," Trevor said through gritted teeth, trying to grasp my hand back.
"Forget it!"
"Once a freak, always a freak. I'll get you, Monster Girl."
Trevor's words churned through my veins like jagged glass. As far as Trevor and I'd come in the last few weeks, we were right back to being two kids in kindergarten.
I pulled my tiara off my head.