Boys That Bite by Mari Mancusi Read Free Book Online

French-kissing me for the play? I thought. . . Oh, who cares if he's supposed to or not. He is, that's all that matters. "Hey, guys, okay, already. You're supposed to faint, Sunny." Mr. Teifert's voice sounds a million miles away. Jake pulls away, reluctantly, it seems. Our faces are inches apart still—I can feel his hot, minty breath in my face. Then he gives me a small grin and whispers, "I think we need more practice," so softly only I can hear. "Don't you?" Then I faint. Or at least I fake fainting, though actually I feel like I could almost lose consciousness for real after what just happened. Jake Wilder, kissing me. Sure, it was just for the play, but somehow it felt like more than that. It felt like he enjoyed it. I know I did. Thank you, Heather, for being absent. Thank you, thank you, thank you. This makes every boring rehearsal, every wasted understudy hour, worth it. And the best thing is, we have to do it all over again. Several times. Practice makes perfect, you know. After the rehearsal is over, I climb down off the stage and head to the back, where I've left my book bag. My legs feel like Jell-O. "Hey, Sunny!" I turn around, bag in my hands at the voice. I force my mouth not to drop open in shock as I realize who's come up behind me. "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