"Hey Jake," I say shyly, dropping my gaze.
Gah, he's so cute.
I can barely stand it.
How can one guy be so gifted in the looks department? I mean, even Brad Pitt's got nothing on Jake Wilder.
Jake runs a hand through his hair, for some reason appearing a little nervous.
Weird.
I should be the one who's shaking like a leaf here, not him.
"You were, um, great up there," he says, shuffling from foot to foot.
I beam at the compliment.
I know it's uncool to be so psyched about it, but I can't help it.
Jake Wilder has just said I was great.
I, Sunshine McDonald, was great in the eyes of Jake Wilder.
"Thanks," I say in my most casual of tones.
"You were great, too.
I can see why you always get the lead." He shrugs.
"Yeah, I guess," he says, clearing his throat.
I look at him curiously.
He's not acting like his usual overconfident popular self at all.
What's up with that? "But you, you were a goddess." A goddess? What is that supposed to mean? I know I nailed the dance number, but I didn't think I was especially goddesslike doing it.
I narrow my eyes, not quite sure if he's making fun of me.
Maybe this is one of those cruel jokes that the popular kids always seem to play in the movies.
Bet the football star he can't get Loser Nerd Girl to fall in love with him.
Well, I'm sooo not falling for that.
"Uh-huh.
Goddess.
Right." I snort.
"Yeah, I've always kind of thought of myself as a teenage Artemis, now that you mention it." I grab my coat.
After all that's taken place in the last twenty-four hours, I am so not in the mood to be made fun of by the guy I'm stalking.
"In fact, I've got some goddess-type duties to take care of now, so I'll, um, catch you around." I start to maneuver around him.
He steps in front of me.
"Wait," he says.
I wait.
My heart is pounding in my chest now.
This is too weird.
"Um, I wanted to uh, ask you if ..." He clears his throat again.
Does he have a cold or something? "If you have a date for the prom, and if you don't do you want to go with me?" he blurts out, in one big run-on sentence.
I stare at him, doing everything in my power not to gape with an open mouth.
Did he just say what I thought he said? Did he just...
no, I must have heard wrong.
"Wh-what?" I ask, squeaky Minnie Mouse voice back with a vengeance.
He blushes a deep red.
Jake Wilder.
Blushing.
Have we entered a parallel universe here? I remind myself this could all be some cruel prank.
That I may get to the prom and the Pop-ulars will pull a Carrie and pour pig's blood on me when I'm voted prom queen.
And I won't even have the telekinetic power to burn down the school in vengeance.
But that's stupid.
I may not be head cheerleader, but I'm certainly not Loser Nerd Girl either.
I have tons of friends and play on the varsity field hockey team.
So I highly doubt I'd be top of the list for the Populars to pick on.
Besides, Jake seems deadly serious.
"I just thought, if you weren't going with anyone, that you might, uh, want to go with, um, me," he continues, stammering.
"I mean, if you wanted to.
I understand if you don't.
Obviously you've probably got like three million guys asking you." I nearly fall backward into a dead faint for real this time.
As it is, I'm not quite sure my heart is still beating.
Jake Wilder has just asked me to the prom.
Jake Wilder! "Uh, yeah.
Sure.
That's cool," I say with a shrug, awarding myself major brownie points for not jumping up and down and doing cartwheels down the auditorium aisle.
"Why not?" He breaks out into his amazing smile, looking oh-so-relieved.
"Great," he says.
"Really great.
Thank you.
I'll um, see you around then." "Uh, sure.
Okay," I say at a loss for more intellectual conversation.
Real suave, Sunny.
He smiles at me again—that infamous brilliant flash of Jake Wilder pearly whites—then turns and bolts out of the auditorium.
I stare after him, confused as anything.
Jake Wilder has just asked me to the prom.
And I said yes.
Before today I would have bet anything that he didn't even know my name.
Now I'm suddenly his prom date? "Hey, Sunny, how you feeling?" I turn around.
Rayne's entered the auditorium.
"Rayne!" I cry.
"You'll never guess! Jake Wilder asked me to the prom.
Isn't that so amazing? I mean, Jake Wilder! Can you believe it? I'm freaking out here!" Rayne smiles her favorite patronizing smile.
"Ah, the Vampire Scent is already kicking in, huh?" I screw up my face.
"Vampire Scent?" What the hell is she talking about? And what does that have to do with Jake asking me to the prom? "Yeah, you know.
Like pheromones.
Vampires give off a scent that drives mere mortals crazy with desire.
They can't resist it.
It's actually very useful when talking your way out of speeding tickets or scoring an aisle seat on an airplane.
Though the old lady the next seat over talking to you about her grandchildren the whole flight can be an unfortunate side effect." My heart sinks.