Unfortunately, she forgot to take into account that while she might have a hot body from doing all that cheerleading, she still has a major personality flaw—aka, she’s a total witch. Anyway, with the senior prom only four days away and still no invitation, she’s decided to focus on Rob.”
“She doesn’t have a prom date and so now she wants mine?” Mia wailed as she felt her stomach churn in a way it hadn’t done since she had first heard that Buffy was going to be canceled.
“Looks like it,” Candice agreed in a whisper as Mr. Haves turned off the lights and started to fiddle with his laptop until a picture of a cockroach flashed up on the whiteboard.
“But that’s so unfair. Why would he take me out on six perfect dates”—well, okay, five actually, because going to watch him practice football probably didn’t count as a date in the technical sense of the word—“and then ask me to the prom, if he was going to run off with Samantha Griffin the minute she looked his way and tossed her hair? I mean, he said I was cute and that he liked the fact I wasn’t high-maintenance. He said it was refreshing.”
“He also said that Indiana was the capital of India in geography the other day,” Candice pointed out.
“Okay, so he’s not exactly a brainiac,” Mia conceded. “But unlike most of the other jocks around here, he doesn’t think he’s God’s gift to the world, either. He’s just a regular guy who is sweet and kind—”
“And has abs that would make David Beckham weep,” Candice added, and Mia found herself nodding. Yup. There was no denying that Rob Ziggerman was gorgeous. With a capital GORGEOUS. None of which was helping with the problem at hand.
“So where does this leave me?” Mia stared unhappily at the back of Rob’s head. His blond hair was styled in a sculptured mess that she longed to run her fingers through (not that she would, of course, because despite being sweet and kind, he did have a thing about his hair). Sitting as close as she could get, Samantha was leaning all over him, leaving no doubt about what her intentions were.
“With a spare prom dress?” Candice guessed before shooting her an apologetic grimace. “Look, you’ve lived across the street from Samantha for the last ten years, so you know as well as I do that what Samantha wants, Samantha gets. Just accept it and be happy you dated a football player for a few weeks.”
“Well, she’s not going to get her own way this time. No way.” Mia gave a firm shake of her head. “We just need to think of a plan. Ooh, maybe if I start using makeup and do my nails, I can beat Samantha at her own game.”
“That’s your plan?” Candice peered at her from under her mascara-free eyelashes as if to remind Mia that their makeup kits didn’t consist of much more than Clearasil and lip gloss. Then Mia glanced back to where Samantha was now laughing at something Rob had said, and she felt her resolve strengthen.
“It’s not such a dumb idea,” Mia defended. “I mean, it’s a slight problem that I don’t have a PhD in eyeliner application, but how hard can it be? Besides, I could always ask Grace to help.”
“You hate your sister,” Candice reminded her. “And more to the point, Grace hates you. Plus, she’s friends with Samantha. It’s that whole cheerleading-club thing. She would never go along with it.”
“True,” Mia reluctantly agreed as she realized no good could come from telling her fifteen-year-old, pom-pom-wielding, vacuous-Barbie-doll sister about this. “But I’ve got to do something or I’ll be the laughingstock of the school. I mean, how can I go to the prom if Rob dumps me?”
“Oh yes, how embarrassing to not have a prom date. We wouldn’t want that,” Candice bristled, and Mia found herself wincing in guilt. They’d made a pact to go to the senior prom together to prove they didn’t need guys to have fun. Though in all fairness, they’d made this decision based purely on the fact that with Candice’s ongoing medical obsession and Mia’s encyclopedic knowledge of anything Buffy- and Angel-related, neither of them had any expectations of being asked in the first place. Let alone by a guy like Rob Ziggerman.
“Candice, I didn’t mean that.” Mia shot her friend an apologetic look. “It’s just, if he hadn’t asked me, then no one would’ve cared less if I did