#004 - A Knight's Tale

As a concept, being on top of a white horse was romantic. In real life, it was not practical. Thaddeus Gammelthorpe learnt that the hard way as he tried to regain control of the ivory beast while asking the maiden of his affection for permission to be her date to the promenade.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd took one look at the hulking animal then took a giant, wise step back. A white horse was romantic. In novels or movies but in real life, nobody wanted to smell horse poo. She tried her best to ignore the foul odor that emanated from the horse's direction.

She glanced at the lanky boy sitting atop the steed. With his chunky glasses, bermuda shorts and unkempt black hair, he looked nothing like her prince charming. What in the world was he thinking?

"Will you go to prom with me?" he almost shouted to be heard above the horse's neighs.

Her face scrunched up, trying to listen to what he was saying since the horse would not shut up and she was a distance away from him. "I don't understand what you're saying, Curly!" she shouted back.

"I said, 'Will you go to prom with me?'" he yelled.

He was sure that this time she heard it for her left eye twitched. Just like the last three times before, when she rejected him. He could almost hear her sigh of annoyance. Her chilling gaze intimidated him and his eyes shifted to the side. Curly finally noticed what a big crowd they had attracted.

His breathing was once again shallow and he felt extremely cold. He focused on watching out for her reply. On just listening to the sounds around him. He tried his best to hear over the loud pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

Her friends giggled at her side. They always did when he asked her out. And subsequently got rejected. He would ignore the latter, negative thinking would do him no good. Positivity attracts positivity. Today was the day she's going to say yes!

"There is no way in hell I'm going to prom with you," she said with narrowed eyes before turning back and walking away, her giggling friends right behind her.

Ouch. So much for positivity.

He had a split second to feel dejected and humiliated before the horse galloped away from the school fields without his command and he clung to the reins for dear life. He could hear the laughter of his peers as he passed through the school gates on top of the undomesticated animal.

#016 - Blonde Ambition

"Don't you ever get tired of being rejected?" Helga asked him one morning after she sat down beside him on the bleachers.

"Don't you ever get tired of just being in the shadows?" he asked, clearly aware that this might get a violent reaction from her. Instead of a beating (Thank God), she just shot him a pointed look and scowled. "And why aren't you participating in the stimulating physical activity specially planned out just for us?" he gestured to the basketball court.

Curly watched as a dodgeball hit Eugene straight in the face. He winced at the impact.

Beside him, Helga smiled. "I'm exempted."

One of his black brows arched without looking at her. He paid close attention the girl on the court wearing itty-bitty shorts dodging flying balls that were directed at her face. She was incredibly graceful at it. It was as if she was part of a New York dance troupe auditioning for Swan Lake. "How?"

"I caught him swilling liquor in school property," she proudly said. "I struck a deal. I don't rat him out if I don't have to participate in PE for a month." Him referred to their PE instructor, Mr. Gailey.

"Only a month?"

"I figured I shouldn't push it. I feel sorry for the guy. He's depressed."

"But you love PE!"

"Says who?" Helga scoffed."Just because you're good at something does not mean that you enjoy it."

Curly felt sorry for Mr. Gailey too. His alcoholism was only a recent thing. "You'd feel depressed too if your wife cheated on you and then left you to be with an older man who is a David Bowie lookalike. You didn't feel sorry enough for him not to blackmail him?"

"All's fair in love and war as they say," Helga shrugged and decided to switch back to the original topic of discussion. "So, how many times have you asked her?" she laughed.

It was an oddly great, musical sound that Curly have not heard in a long time. Not since he came back from South America with a girlfriend. This time he didn't refer to Mr. Gailey but to a certain blond football head. He was not to be discussed in any of their chats. Curly figured that out about the second time he mentioned his name, that slip of the tongue earned him a black eye.

"Fifteen," he dreadfully admitted.

Helga whistled in disbelief. "That's a lot of times."

"Yeah, it is," he said, getting annoyed at where this was going.

"You're not having any luck," she pointed out the obvious.

"You're a genius," he muttered through gritted teeth. Helga's grin only got wider.

"Watch this," Helga said as she stood up. She placed her hands on each side of her mouth then yelled. "Rhonda!"

Curly's eyes widened in shock. "What the hell are you doing? Sit down!" He tried to pull on her arm to get her to sit back down but she just elbowed him away.

Down below, the sweaty, raven-head goddess turned towards the bleachers at the sound of her name.

Helga continued screaming, "Curly wants to know if you want to go to the prom with him?"

The obnoxious loudness of the uttered sentence and Rhonda's mortified face caused Curly to bury his face in his hands.

He heard the reply without looking up. It was shouted as well but there was a hint of amusement in the tone. "Can you tell him the answer is still N-O? And that next time, not to let his friends do the dirty work. Thanks!"

Their classmates laughed. He could hear Gerald's distinctly deep chuckle.

"Will do!" Helga shouted back.

Only when he heard Helga plop down next to him did he lift his face from his hands. "You're an asshole," he mumbled.

She laughed. "I've done my good deed for the day."

"How is that a good deed?" he asked, incredulous.

"Didn't you hear what she said? She's waiting for a next time," Helga said with a smile. "By the way, the number is now sixteen. See you later, sport."

With a great pat on his back, Helga collected her things and was gone.

Next time, not to let his friends do the dirty work…

Curly smiled at the implied meaning. Rhonda expected him to ask her again. She also expected him to do it himself. He would not disappoint her.

#023 - A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

He spotted her immediately.

She was dressed head to toe in red - sparkly, crimson dress with dark, cherry stiletto heels. It made her stand out and appear larger than life. Elegant, beautiful and dangerous. She stood alone which puzzled him since she was always surrounded by people in school. So why would Rhonda Lloyd be alone at one of the biggest parties held every year?

He wanted to find out.

He grabbed a bottle of the alcoholic juice from the cooler that she always drank at parties. It was the pink one, grapefruit, which was her favorite. Then, he made her way towards her. He weaved in and out of the throng of high school students with nothing to do on a Saturday night but drink and dance to forget all their adolescent troubles. He would have joined in the celebrations if not for the higher purpose he was there to fulfill.

He was there solely for her.

It took longer than expected to reach her and when he finally did he was a slightly out of breath. He stopped himself from just thrusting the bottle into her hands. When she finally noticed him beside her, her eyes widened then a flash of irritation marred them.

"Curly not now!" she growled. Her eyes travelled around the room as if she was waiting for someone to show up and she played with the hem of her dress anxiously.

"Why? Are you in crisis?" he asked, hoping she remembered the reference. At the way she quickly turned to face him again, he knew that she remembered.

"Why are you here anyway?" she asked, clearly exasperated. As though she had given up at trying to shoo him away.

"I came to gave you this," he said, giving her the cold, bottled drink. Her hesitant hands took it and she shot him a wary glare.

"You're here to give me an alcoholic beverage?" she asked in a flat tone.

"I'm here to get you to have fun," he replied with what he hope was a debonair smile.

She continued to stare at him as though he had grown another head. He gulped at the awkwardness. Moments passed and there was still silence.

He was ready to bolt and just leave her but stopped when she started to speak.

"You hope to achieve that by getting me drunk?" she gestured to the bottle in her hand.

"No! I don't want to get you drunk," he said sincerely.

Her featured softened for a short while then her mask of indifference came back on.

"Just buzzed," she said in the same dead tone.

He shrugged. "I figured a little would loosen you up."

"Enough to say yes?" she snapped. He sensed that she was getting angry again.

"No! Just… Alright, look, you're standing alone and you looked miserable in the middle of what is supposed to be the most fun and highly anticipated party of the year. I just wanted to make you happy. I figured giving you a drink would not hurt," he said in a firm but kind voice.

At that, her eyes became sad. "My supposed date didn't show up," she said softly with her hands going up as if to gesture how ridiculous the situation is.

Curly nodded but he didn't say anything. He took the bottle in her hands, twisted the cap to open it and then gave it back to her.

"I'd say it's his loss," he said as he watched the people on the dance floor. He purposely avoided her gaze because at that moment he did not want her to see how much he was hurting for her.

Beside him, he heard her take huge gulps. Then, her hand grabbed his.

"I suppose the best form of revenge is to have a great night, don't you think?" she said. Her eyes asking him whether she should really commit to this.

"I completely agree."

She didn't need another confirmation. She led him to the dance floor.

He followed her in shock. It felt like an out of body experience whereas he was watching this amazing thing happen from the outside even though he was incredibly and honestly involved in it.

The music was fast and loud and the crowd pushed their bodies closer than it had ever been before. He gave her a sloppy, one-sided smile and she laughed. Beautiful and enchanting, she was. He wished that this moment lasted forever

"I can't believe I'm doing this with you," she said into his ear. He couldn't believe it either, he thought as his fingertips grazed the soft milky skin of her arms.

"Just try to have fun," he said, taking her hands and guiding her around the floor. Throughout the whole party, they jumped and spun and twirled. At one point there was a dance battle with Helga that was incredibly hilarious and was not to be taken seriously. In between, someone suggested they took shots which everybody thought was a good idea. After that, she decided to play tag with him and hide and seek in the bedrooms on the second floor.

It was the best night of his life so far.

They danced until their feet ached and their stomachs hurt from laughing too much. She drunk until her world swayed and she had to grab his arm for support. He stared at her until she giggled so much that she collapsed in a laughing mess on the floor. Just as he bent down to retrieve her and she looked up at him with glazed eyes and an open mouth.

Curly's eyes landed on her flushed cheeks and half-lidded stare. She was so darn gorgeous like this. So immensely happy.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He gave her a small smile. "It's nothing."

One of her fingers made his way to his mouth to shush him. "No, really, thank you," she repeated.

His heart started to hammer hard on his chest. He swallowed the great swell of emotion that formed in his throat. "You need to get up," he said simply.

He waited for her to give him her hands so that he could pull her up. What she did instead was wrap her arms around his neck and bury her nose in the crook of it. He hissed at the shot of pleasure that coursed through his body caused by the intimate contact but decided to focus on his task of getting her off the floor.

"You're a good guy, Thaddeus," she whispered.

That was only the second time she had ever called him by his real name. He couldn't remove the grin from his face as he held onto her slim waist and helped her up.

At 3 AM, Arnold suggested that maybe he should take her home. Curly agreed. And so began the longest drunk walk that he had ever witnessed.

"Okay, Rhonda, love, we're almost there," he said as he huffed and struggled to bring her to his car.

"I wish I could dance as well as Helga!" she slurred, her slims arm tightened its grip around his shoulders.

He laughed and grabbed her waist closer so it was easier to guide her through the parking lot. "You're already a great dancer."

She pouted. "Helga is marvelous!" she yelled.

"Hey, you have to keep your voice down now. People are trying to get to sleep." He was wheezing by the time he opened his car door. Rhonda was slender but she was almost as tall as him which meant that her body weight was almost the same as his.

"Sleep. Sleep sounds really good," she murmured dreamily.

Curly tried his best to get her into the car without any injury. Except for a banged knee against the side of the door, he'd say he managed pretty good.

He closed the door at her side and locked it immediately in case she got any drunken ideas of opening it while he was driving her home.

He entered the car and sighed. He realized that throughout the evening, not once did he bring up prom, his very sole purpose of being in that party. That and the pleasure seeing her of course. He had forgotten because he was having too much fun with Rhonda.

"I think I'm very pretty," Rhonda said in the darkness of the car with her eyes closed and her head leaning back against the seat.

He laughed and attached her seatbelt.

"I think so too," he said.

She hummed her approval at his thoughts. "You know, that's one of the few times I really had fun at a party."

Curly frowned as his car pulled away from the driving space and turned to the street. "Really. Why?"

She snorted. "Parties are overrated. It's great company that can't be beat."

"So, I'm great company?" he teased. Chancing a glance at her when they approached a red light.

Her eyes were still closed but she replied, "Yeah, one of the best."

His heart sang with joy at those words.

"Rhonda, I was wondering… You know, since we had a good time at the party anyw- What I'm trying to say is, maybe, if, you know, I have asked this many times..." He paused to get a grip on himself. "What I wanted to say was that maybe, this time, seeing as how we had a lot of fun tonight, maybe we could repeat the experience at prom? Would you now like to go to prom with me?"

Her lack of reply scared him. Coincidentally, they had reached her house.

So he turned to look at her and could not believe at his utter lack of luck.

Rhonda Lloyd snored. She was asleep.

Then, as if a slow madness crawled in his insides, what started out as a small bubble burst into a full cacophony. He laughed and laughed and laughed. When he was done, he got out of his car, carried Rhonda to the door, rang the doorbell, was ushered in by one of the household's staff, and had put her to bed, placing a gentle kiss on her smooth forehead.

He realized that even if he did not get to take her to the prom, he had this night to remember.