by Mari Mancusi
I arrive back from the mall with barely enough time to get ready for the event. My mother tells me that Jake’s called three times to make sure I’m still going. That I’m still going with him. That I don’t mind him picking me up in a limo at seven P.M.
Yes, yes, and yes, though I’m not thrilled by the limo thing, to tell you the truth. It reminds me too much of my mode of transportation while on my recent trip to England. Or, more pointedly, what happened between Magnus and me while we sat in the vehicle in question. But what can you do? I can’t exactly tell Jake I’d rather take my mother’s Toyota because limos remind me of making out with vampires.
Pathetic, I know.
Once I’m satisfied that my hair and makeup are as good as they’re going to get on such short notice, I head back into my bedroom to slip into my dress. Wow. One awesome thing about being a vampire on prom night—flawless figure! Maybe it’s due to the fact that I haven’t been hungry for human food. Or maybe blood doesn’t have a lot of carbs. But for whatever reason, I think I’ve lost about ten pounds this week. And if you’re going to lose ten pounds and then put on a dress, this dress is the one to put on. It molds itself to my body like it was made just for me.
Woot! I’m going to look sooo good.
Seriously. I’m not one for bragging, but as I study myself in the mirror, I realize I’m suddenly superhot. Like Paris Hilton hot, if Paris were five foot four. I just hope I don’t turn back into a pumpkin at midnight when I drink the Grail blood. That would royally suck.
“Done checking yourself out?”
I whirl around. Rayne is standing in the doorway, a scowl on her face.
“Go away,” I growl, shooting her a glare before turning back to the mirror. No need for her to ruin what’s sure to be the best night of my life.
“Wait. Sunny,” she says, ignoring my order and stepping into the room. Gah. I knew I should have installed a lock on my door. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
“Go through with what?” I ask. “Going to the prom with Jake? Of course I’m sure. It’s what I’ve dreamed about since I first laid eyes on the guy freshman year.”
“No. Not that. The . . . other thing.”
“Are you kidding?” I ask, incredulously. I cannot believe that after all of this she’s still trying to get me to change my mind. As if. “Believe you me, Rayne. I am so ready to skip out on the vampire world. In fact, I wish it were midnight right now. I’d be downing that Grail blood like it’s a Cherry Slurpee from 7-Eleven. And you know how I live for Cherry Slurpees from 7-Eleven.”
“And what about Magnus?”
My heart sinks. Why did she have to bring up the M-word? I’d never admit it to her, of course, but I’ve been missing the guy like crazy. Wondering what he’s doing. How the coven takeover is going. If they’ve crowned him king yet. And more important, if they’ve assigned him a new blood mate. And whether that blood mate happens to be my twin sister.
I know Magnus was mad at my decision to go to the prom, but deep inside, I guess I’d hoped he wouldn’t drop off the face of the earth. That he’d still be in my life. I don’t know how exactly. After all, he’s not the type to swing by for tea. Or to call up and ask me out to dinner and a movie or something.
But still . . .
Anyhow, it seems as if that wasn’t meant to be. After peeling out of my driveway last night, he’s not called or e-mailed or IM’ed or anything. He’s just disappeared from my life like he’d never been in it at all.
Not that I mind. I’m glad, actually. It’s better this way.
Kind of.
Okay, not really.
“What about Magnus?” I repeat. “Who cares about him?”
I do! I do!
Shut up, heart. You don’t count in this case.
“Oh,” Rayne replies in an odd voice. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d think she sounded almost disappointed. Which wouldn’t make the least bit of sense, considering she’s the one hoping to play Rebound Girl with him. My disinterest should be good news for her. She can have her way with him and live vampily ever after and I won’t say a word in objection.
“Okay, then,” Rayne adds after a long pause. “If you’re sure.”
Jeez, what is her problem? “Look, Rayne,” I say, a little annoyed, mainly because I have no idea what she’s getting at and all this thinking about Magnus is doing nasty things to my insides, “as fascinating as this conversation has been, I’m running a bit late. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to cut the chitchat and get ready for my date with the Sex God.”
“Oh. I see. Okay. Fine. Whatever.” Rayne immediately turns and stomps out of the room.
I turn back to the mirror, feeling a little guilty for being so rude. What’s wrong with me lately? She’s my twin sister. The person I grew up with. The one who knows me better than anyone.
“Hrmumph,” I huff as I pick a stray piece of blond hair off the dress. That just goes to show you. If she knew me better than anyone, she’d know that I’m fully vested into changing back into a human tonight. That I’m in love with Jake Wilder. Not Magnus.
Nope. Rayne doesn’t know me at all.
27
Desperate Prom Dates
Jake’s prompt. He’s rented a limo. And he’s dressed in a divine tux. What more could I want in a prom date? He comes to the door and he has a corsage. His cummerbund matches my dress. He smiles at me and calls my mom “ma’am,” and he doesn’t even bat an eye when she tells him to call her Susan and explains her crazy government conspiracy theory that terms like “ma’am” were put into place to keep women barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. (Yeah, I don’t get her sometimes either.)
In short, Jake is perfect. A dream come true.
So why can’t I muster any enthusiasm?
He tells “Susan” he’ll have me back at a decent hour. He allows me to get into the limo first. He offers me a glass of champagne in a fluted glass.
If you looked up perfect prom date in the dictionary, Jake’s handsome mug would be staring right back at you.
So why am I stifling the urge to yawn?
“To the most beautiful girl at Oakridge High School,” he says, as we clink glasses.
“Why are we toasting Mary Markson?” I ask with a giggle.
He scrunches his eyebrows in honest confusion. “I meant you, Sunny,” he stammers. “I’m sorry, I guess I should have been more clear.”
“Um, I know that,” I assure him. “I was just making a joke.” A pretty obvious one, I would have thought, but I decide to cut him some slack. I can tell he’s nervous. Isn’t that too funny? Oakridge High’s resident Sex God is nervous around little old me. Who would have thunk it?
I lean back in my seat and take a sip of my champagne. This is nice. Speeding to the prom in a deluxe limo with the most delectable guy in school sitting right across from me. I steal a quick peek. He really is so hot, with those brooding eyes and killer bod. De-lish. And he’s all mine.
“I’m so glad you decided to come to the prom with me,” Jake continues, giving me a once-over that can only be described as reverent. “I was so scared to ask you.”
Imagine! Me scaring a boy! A boy like Jake Wilder scared of me! Too, too funny.
“I’m glad you did,” I say, dipping my eyes to appear demure. “I’ve liked you for a while now.”
“Really?” Jake looks surprised. “It’s funny, I didn’t know you existed until that day in drama.”
Ah, there’s the icy water of reality dumped on my head. I take a big gulp of champagne, wishing it was blood. I realize I’d been secretly hoping he’d say he’d been lusting after me all year. Then I could report back to Rayne that he really does like me for me and not ’cause of some weird vampire mating call.
But, um, not so much, it appears. Oh well.
“When we were on stage and I kissed you, it was just like my whole world changed in that instant. Everything I was, everything I wanted from life—all disappeared in a flash of light. At
that moment, I realized that I could easily spend all eternity with you.”
O-kay then. This is getting a bit on the creepy, stalkerish side, I have to admit. I mean, don’t get me wrong—having the love of my life spout sonnets of devotion to me while drinking champagne in a luxury limo is extremely cool and all. But knowing he’s only doing it ’cause I’ve inadvertently bewitched him kind of sucks.
I ask you: Is it so hard for a boy to like me for me? To adore and speak passionately about the real life Sunshine McDonald, not her vampire alter ego?
You mean like Magnus does? that annoying voice in my head asks. The one guy you know is not influenced by the Vampire Scent?
No. Not like Magnus, I tell the stupid voice. I really hope it goes away with the rest of the vampire stuff. I want a human boy to feel that way about me.
Jake reaches over and starts stroking my knee. “Did I mention how beautiful you are?” he asks.
I stifle another yawn. This is going to be a long night.
We arrive at the prom and parade around the parking lot so all the parents, who evidently have nothing better to do and a lot of film to waste, can clap and cheer and take photo after photo. Of course when they get to me, it’s worse. All these balding, potbellied dads start giving me lecherous grins and making “whoo-whoo” noises, much to the chagrin of their wives.
Major ew-age. The heck with free clothes; now that I’ve got old men leering at me, I’m thinking this Vampire Scent thing has got to go.
After the processional, we walk into the hotel that is hosting the prom. It’s pretty nice. Gold-accented walls, crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and a huge dance floor. On stage there’s a DJ spinning Top 40 dance remixes. By the far wall there are tables piled with buffet trays and a beautiful dessert cart. Pretty class act.
“Over here!”
We turn to see several very popular seniors beckoning us over to their table. At first I think they must be mistaking me for someone else, and then I remember I’m with Jake. And just ’cause he’s been blinded by my Vampire Scent doesn’t mean that he’s suddenly lost all coolness points with the in crowd. Suddenly I feel much better. I, Sunshine McDonald, somewhat geeky sophomore, will be spending the evening with the A-list.
“Hi Jake, hi Sunny,” the aforementioned A-list cries as we sit down at their table. Wow. They even know my name. How cool is that?
“Sunny, you look beautiful,” says Rick, the captain of the football team, who sits to my left.
“Yes, you’re like the most beautiful girl in Oakridge,” agrees Sam, the basketball player across the table.
I can feel my face heat. Wow. These A-listers are so nice. So welcoming. So . . .
So pissing off their girlfriends.
Uh-oh.
I look around the table. All the guys are drooling and all the girls are giving me the most evil stares known to humankind. Crap. This Vampire Scent thing can really backfire if you’re not careful. Free dresses from smitten clerks—good. Making the entire cheerleading squad want to kick your ass—very, very bad.
“Jake, let’s dance,” I say, even though we’ve just arrived and there’s barely anyone on the dance floor. I mean, dancing before dinner? How uncool can you get? But I’m desperate to get away from this table before the girls go all Charlie’s Angels on me.
Luckily Jake is, of course, still bewitched by me and will do anything I say, even if it’s social suicide. So though I’m positive we look absolutely ridiculous all alone on the dance floor, he obeys my command. Even more luckily, Jake’s still the most popular guy at Oakridge. So as soon as he gets up to dance, half the senior class follows suit.
Me. A trendsetter. I could get used to this.
The DJ throws on a slow song and Jake proceeds to pull me close. I nestle my cheek in his chest, enjoying the feel of his lanky, muscular body pressed against mine, his chest rising and falling with his breath.
Ah. This is nice. Normal high school stuff. Exactly what I’ve been craving.
Well, that and the pulsating vein on the side of Jake’s neck. But I won’t go there. I will not, under any circumstances, bite my prom date. At least not in public.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jake murmurs into my ear. “So, so beautiful. You’ve got me completely addicted.”
Sigh. Great, here he goes again. I wish he’d just shut up. I mean, I like hearing that he thinks I’m beautiful, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that every time he says it, I’m painfully reminded of the fact that in real life he’s, as the self-help book says, just not that into me. That, in reality, this is all an illusion that will end as soon as I drink the Grail blood and turn back into a pumpkin.
Cinderella, I feel for you, girl.
Whoa! My head spins as Jake suddenly decides to get creative on the dance floor. He dips me backward without any kind of warning. As I scramble to keep my balance, my eyes fall on a surprising prom guest.
Make that two very surprising prom guests.
I regain my balance and break away from Jake’s embrace. “I’ll be back,” I tell him, patting him on the arm and trying to appear composed. “I just want to go say hi to someone.”
Say “hi” or “what the hell do you think you’re doing here and why did you bring him?” to be exact, but Jake doesn’t need to know the sordid details of my upcoming convo.
“Hurry up, babe,” he says, dipping his head to plant an unexpected, way-too-PDA kiss on my lips. “I’ll miss you every second you are gone.”
“Hurry. Right. Okay,” I agree as I back away. Once I’m at a safe distance, I turn and make great strides to the punch bowl.
I’m going to kill her. I’m going to kill her. I’m going to kill her. I’d kill him, too, if he weren’t already dead.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss at my sister, who’s dressed (surprise, surprise) in a lacy black Gothic princess dress that’s completely inappropriate for prom.
Rayne scowls. “Nice to see you, too, sis,” she says.
“You’re not a senior. You’re not on the guest list.”
“Really. Go figure. Maybe I—ohhh,” she makes an overly dramatic shriek, “maybe I sneaked in.” She fans her face with her hands. “Oh, shock, horror. Call the police. I broke into Oakridge’s senior class prom. Past all the teachers and Home-land Security spies. All the way to the punchbowl. Watch out, senior class . . . there’s an evil sophomore in your hotel.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so not funny. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Which was?” Rayne asks sweetly.
I hate her. I absolutely hate her. Can you emancipate yourself from your twin sister? If so, I’m definitely filing the paperwork Monday morning.
“Why. Are. You. Here?” I ask, spelling it out slowly, through clenched teeth. “And. Why. Did. You. Bring. Him?”
“Him?” Rayne asks in a ridiculously innocent voice. As if she hasn’t a clue who I’m talking about. “Oh, you mean Magnus?” she concludes. “Well, I needed a date and he wasn’t doing anything and . . .”
I squeeze my hands into fists, not quite convinced I shouldn’t wind up and smack her. The proximity of the senior class advisor, Mr. Moody, is the only thing that’s stopping me at the moment.
“This is my night,” I growl at her. “Mine. I am on a date with the hottest guy from Oakridge High. And I refuse to let you spoil this for me.”
“I’m not spoiling anything. We’re just here to dance and drink punch.”
“Yeah, right. I know you too well, sis,” I spit out. My stomach is churning with fury. “You came to rub it in. To flaunt it in my face.”
“Really, Sunny, you should work out these anger issues of yours,” Rayne says with a tsk-tsk. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you sound like you need some serious help.” She grabs the ladle and pours herself a cup of punch. “Go back to your date and enjoy the prom. Magnus and I will stay out of your hair.”
“Yes, don’t worry, we’d never want to ruin your dream night,”
Magnus agrees, coming up from behind Rayne.
The second I lay eyes on him everything inside me starts doing crazy things all at once and I feel like I’m going to pass out. My hands start shaking. My stomach is nauseated. My heart aches. Tears form at the back of my eyes and I suddenly find it difficult to breathe.
He looks so good. Dressed to the nines in a dashing tux. He’s chopped his long hair to ear length, long layers in the front hanging casually in his face. His amazing blue eyes look even bluer, if that’s even possible. But the warmth I’ve found comfort in is long gone. Instead he gazes at me with an icy stare.
Gulp.
It takes everything inside me not to throw myself in his arms and cry and cry and hope that he’ll hold me and comfort me and tell me everything will be okay. But he won’t tell me that this time. He’ll shove me away and wrap his arm around Rayne’s waist to show me that she’s his new blood mate now. And later they’ll go back to the coven and giggle at how ridiculous I acted at the prom and how clearly I’m still holding a torch for Magnus, even though I’m the one who technically broke up with him first.
I glance back at Jake. My dream date. He and his buddies are slapping each other on the back, having a grand old time. One guy passes around a silver flask filled with God knows what kind of alcohol and Jake takes a long swig. Then they giggle some more, evidently oh-so-pleased by their juvenile delinquency. I cringe, wondering what Magnus thinks of their immature behavior.
I suddenly feel very old and jaded.
I look back at Magnus and Rayne, blinking back tears. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let Magnus go? He’s everything I ever wanted in a boyfriend. He’s sweet and loyal and nice and funny and oh-so-handsome. He did everything in his power to assist me on my quest to regain my humanity, even though it was against his best interests.
And I’ve been so ungrateful. In fact, I didn’t even properly thank him for all he’s done. I just said, “Thanks for the memories, dude,” and ditched him like a bad habit as soon as I got what I wanted and he could no longer help me. I wouldn’t even agree to meet up with him tonight, for a proper good-bye.
