He looked at her. She looked straight back at him. And suddenly, Timmy felt like this wasn't real.
Her awkward confession still hung in the air. He could hear it echoing, reminding him that this was what he'd wanted for five years.
Five years they'd tried out a relationship. Five years she'd confessed again and again. Five years Timmy had been so happy in, only to be disappointed. He was always disappointed when someone more funny, or hot, or smart came along. She was never disappointed.
He looked at her. She looked straight back at him. And suddenly, Timmy knew this must be real.
Her long black hair hung straight down her back, framing her pretty face perfectly. That old outfit had been replaced for one evening, and so now she was wearing a red dress. A backless red dress, with diamante studded mules. Timmy always felt obsolete when he was with her. Especially now, at prom. Her ruby red lips parted, and she said, again, as if he hadn't heard her,
"I love you, Timmy Turner."
He stared at her again, then walked forward, gathering her in his arms and holding her. She relaxed, the girl with everything finally getting what she wanted most. Timmy kissed Trixie deeply, her lipstick smudging. Then he stepped back, wiped the remnants of her lipstick off his own lips, and said,
"I don't love you, Trixie Tang."
She looked at him. He looked straight back at her. And suddenly, Trixie felt like this wasn't real.