Erica couldn’t help but to laugh as Summer smacked straight into a lamp post. “Oh my god, are you ok?” She was giggling as she walked over to her and put her arms around her shoulder.
“Ahh prom. Every girl’s dream and nightmare. Oh god, I’m not going to have a date … again.” She let out a small sigh as she hugged Summer back. “That’s fair enough, you take your time, but does he know that you’re someone from his school?”
“He knows that I like him, and that I can see him, and that I know where he lives. He knows about the books I like to read and my poetry and going to conventions.” She sighed and looked down at her hands. “He doesn’t know we’re in the same school.” Summer poked Erica in the side with an elbow. “Why don’t you ask Stiles?”
“How can he ask you to prom if he doesn’t know that you’re in the same school? But that’s really sweet how much you know about each other without even knowing who you are.” Erica let out a laugh at Summer’s suggestion and poked her back. “Ha. Yeah. I could never work up the nerve to ask Stiles..”
“No, see, that was not the point. If he asked me I think I would pass out, right on his feet. And then crawl in a hole. I want to see if he asks anyone else, and then if he doesn’t I — maybe I will ask him. What kind of nerve do you need to ask Stiles? Seriously.”