Never Been Nerdy

by C.M. Kars

  “You know, if we had hung out tonight, I would’ve passed out on your couch before nine.” I uncross my legs, and hook the left one on the right one, kicking out my left, absently beating out Guns N’ Roses “Welcome to the Jungle”.

  “You should get his phone number. I’d really like a friend named Dean. It would make my life complete.”

  I snort. “Right. Next, you’re going to need a dude friend named Sam to complete the set.”

  “I’m never going to find a Castiel.”

  She actually looks put out. See? Sera gets disappointed and excited over the most inconsequential of things, and sometimes I really worry for her. She’s a dreamer, and she’s so far up in the clouds, the ground is nothing but a fleeting memory, nothing but a pain that’s been completely forgotten.

  I have to be there when she falls, because I know the truth. Love doesn’t exist, not the kind you see in the movies, not the kind that couples get married for. Nobody stays together, and nobody should take that chance on anyone – it’s so stupid.

  Why fuck up your kids when you decide to call it quits? Why can’t people be brave enough to say ‘this isn’t working anymore?’ instead of going on ahead and hoping that you’ll forget your partner’s infidelity?

  I know that whatever she has with Hunter now, whatever promises they’ve made to each other, however much I pushed her to get back together with him – they’re just time bombs, and I’m the only one that can hear the tic-toc-tic-toc countdown. My throat actually swells up just thinking about the pain she’s going to have to get through when this doesn’t work out, how devastated she’ll be.

  Maybe it’s the curse that’s made my eyes become completely open to the farce of true love. To how shitty human beings can be to one another. To my stupid bitch of a grandmother who took serious offense that I wasn’t named after her and cursed me with bad luck all because my dad fell in love with my mom. And look where that got him.

  Sera’s telling me how excited she is about going out for Halloween with Matty and MacLaine. She’s actually bouncing in her seat, and grinning like a fool. God, she’s going to be crushed when this is all over, when they break each other’s heart, and ruin the kid in the process.

  Heat boils in my gut, roars through my throat, and I have to bite down and strangle the anger off or I’m going to say something I’ll regret. I can’t lose a friend like Sera. She’s what I wish I could be, carefree, and completely sheltered from the uselessness of being in a relationship.

  We’re told by a nurse that Dean has to stay the night, since he has no one at home to keep him under observation. The nurse with the purple crocs looks at me like I have a solution to this problem, but hey, I’m not his girlfriend, just a potential one night stand in the near future, I hope.

  I drive Sera back to her place, and don’t go upstairs to say hi to Hunter and Matty.

  Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll bake something diabetic friendly and bring it over and watch movies with the kid and Sera if Hunter’s doing overtime when I finish my shit.

  Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

  But first, my sweet, sweet bed. My empty bed with no Dean to keep me occupied, to keep me from my thoughts, from dreaming of pro forma sheets, and emails that go unanswered and humiliating meetings where I’m naked.

  After doing my skin care routine and brushing out my hair, I settle into my bed in panties and a tank. I hit the feather-down pillow and grin into it. Yeah, Dean would be real comfortable in my king-sized bed, right next to me. Hopefully, not just right next to me. Maybe on top of me, inside me, behind me, and under me.

  The right answer is all of the above.

  But I’m here – alone. Like always.

  Maybe I should call Russia. Get him to come over, maybe watch something. He’d probably take it as an invitation to fuck, the prick. Hmmm… funny how Russia’s blue eyes keep getting replaced by jade green when I close my eyes.

  And how they look so very familiar…

  Chapter 3

  My conscience is bipolar.

  Sometimes, I’m a heartless bitch that doesn’t give a flying fuck about anyone or anything, and I’ll steamroll any moron who gets in my way. Other times, I’m a heaping mass of cuddly female hormones that consumes tons of chocolate and drinks lots of wine, all while contemplating the crappiness that is the world today.

  I’m pretty sure a lot of people aren’t 100% normal, and I’m not going to apologize for either side of me. Especially at a time like this.

  I don’t want to go back to the hospital and see Dean; I have so much to do, and so little time to do it. I was going to get all my work done today so I could do absolutely nothing tomorrow.

  I should, though. I know I should go see him. Maybe try to give him a ride home, the kind with a vehicle and not through my vagina. Damn, I wonder what he looks like without his clothes on. He’s got a big build, so I’m hoping he’s thick with muscle, and damn I hope he’s got pronounced sex lines, the ones over his hip bones, ‘cause those are one of my favourite places to play with.

  Heat swishes languidly in my veins, and with my eyes still closed, I can imagine Dean over me, fucking me like I want him to, me licking up the veins along his neck that are popping out just a little. Shit, and him licking me between my legs and me clutching at his long hair?

  Good morning! Time to get dressed.

  I get myself up off the bed and fight the wave of usual dizziness as my blood goes back to all the regular places. I stretch my back, then rotate at the waist a few times, feeling my ribs and spine crack in a melody of wow, I’m getting old.

  Through my closed curtains, I can see the light of the sun dying to fry my eyeballs, and I again stare down longingly at my bed, hoping against hope they were big strong arms that could rock me to sleep.

  Wake up, DiNovro. Your life can’t be like Sera’s – freaking fairy tale perfect.

  I grab my phone off the nightstand and head on over to the kitchen. My appliances are greater than great after the mint they cost me, but hey, after working two jobs for the past ten years, hell yeah, I’m going to start spending towards my dream kitchen. What takes the cake is my awesome espresso machine, dotted with Juventus stickers – my only ode to my favourite soccer team – when I have time to watch them play.

  I make a perfect cappuccino and sit at my counter to slowly sip at it. I’m rudely interrupted in the complexity of flavour dancing over my tongue when my phone vibrates and I get Sera’s faced plastered on my phone under incoming call.

  “DiNovro residence,” I sing-song as an answer and get a snicker on the other end. It makes me smile.

  “Hey, Katie,” Sera says in a bright voice. Now that I think of it, her voice is always bright, even if she’s had a bad day, she always puts on a face for me when we call each other. It’s only when I see her face when I can tell how hard she’s trying to keep it all together.

  “Oh, shit. Just gimme a sec-” she cuts off, but I can still hear her; she’s probably just moved the phone away from her face without thumbing the mic.

  I listen to the cacophony coming from her – and Hunter’s – apartment. I look around my empty place, seeing without seeing the high-end furniture, the prestige that I try to wrap myself in to try and disguise that my place is as interesting as a tomb.

  More noise comes from the line, and I can just imagine Matty running around like Satan’s spawn, causing havoc and basically driving my best friend and his dad crazy.

  I like little kids – two hours at a time, and after they’ve had a meal in them.

  I swear to God, kids are the pickiest eaters I’ve ever met. How the hell can you appreciate fine dining without trying the food that doesn’t look or sound so good? My zia Angelina says that when I have the right man, I’m going to want to have kids, and because they’ll be mine, I’m going to love them more.

  I call bullshit. Big, smelly bullshit. Plus, I don’t intend to have kids, or get married.

  “Hey, K! You there? Sorry, about that. The little guy cou
ldn’t find one of his new sneakers I bought him.”

  “I see,” I tell her. I really wasn’t expecting this side of her, as she slowly becomes a mom. Not this fast anyway.

  When we were younger, Sera and I both talked about it, living across the street from one another, having kids at the same time, husbands who would become best friends. That was a dream of a little girl who bought in to the whole true love thing, like it was the end all of everything. No, no, no.

  This isn’t Twilight.

  “Yeah, it was like Armageddon, you know?” She coughs, then clears her throat.

  “So, listen, hey, what are you doing up so coherent this morning?! I guess you already dosed yourself with caffeine. Want me to come over and make you some pancakes?”

  I can’t help but grin. Sera makes epic buttermilk pancakes. She makes the buttermilk from scratch, too, and for some reason, it seems to make all the difference.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll make myself something small.” I take another delicious sip of my cappuccino. “Watcha need, Delos?”

  “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to call to ask for anything in particular. I just wanted to know if you were going to go to the hospital this morning to go see Dean.” She puts emphasis on the guy’s name and I let myself have an eye roll to put all other eye rolls to shame, because Jesus Christ, real life is not meant for this many Supernatural references.

  “Yeah, I’m going to head over there in twenty minutes or so, see how he’s doing.” More cappuccino down my throat and into my tummy, warming me from the inside out. I check the time on the clock on my stove. Dean should be up by now.

  “Sweet. I know we didn’t get to hang out yesterday, so I was wondering if you’d like to spend the day with me and Matty? We’re gonna go to the bookstore after we have breakfast.”

  “Sera,” I say, licking foam from my upper lip, “where in hell are you going to put any more books? I’ve seen your bookshelves, and every nook and cranny has been disabused of the notion of being a free agent. What are you going to do? Kick the kid and MacLaine out so there’s more room for your books?”

  Sera laughs. “Obviously not. Those two like me the best in here. Can’t say the same for the paperbacks, no matter how many times I whisper ‘I love you’ to them.”

  “You are a sick, sick woman, Delos. You’ve got MacLaine over there, probably not two feet from you, and you’re talking to me about bookstores. Now, lemme ask ya,” oh, yeah my Marisa-Tomei/Mona-Lisa-Vito just came out to play, “what’s the problem with this situation?”

  “Ha. You’re so funny, K. So funny. Ha. Ha. Ha. Hilarious. I’m dying over here.”

  I smile, and lightly punch myself in the shoulder, all good-game-bro. “You should be having sex non-stop, buddy. You shouldn’t be leaving the bedroom at all – unless it’s to eat, and use the washroom.”

  Sera snorts. “Yeah, ok. Like I was saying, we’re going to the bookstore, in like, forty-five minutes – ish? You in or out?”

  “Project Runway reference, right?” I say, waving an arm in the air mid-way between a fist pump and waving my hands in the air like I just don’t care.

  “Uh, what now?”

  I practically make that farting sound balloons do when they deflate.

  I drop my arm, and look around my apartment as if someone saw me. Ugh. Getting one of Delos’ references is like winning the lottery for a normal person. I mean, you don’t get any money in the end, and hence, realizing all your dreams and finally having financial security, but it’s almost the same thing.

  “Never mind. I tried, I really did.”

  “I don’t know what just happened,” Sera says.

  “It’s okay. I’m gonna go get dressed now, and I’ll see you after I go see Dean. I’ll call you. Say hi to Matty, but give Hunter a wet one for me!”

  Sera laughs and says goodbye.

  I grab my True Religions and a pastel pink Ralph Lauren blouse and get them on with efficiency. I run a brush through my long hair and decide to keep it down today. I rush out of my apartment after locking up and get to the garage and into my car.

  I show my need for speed as I drive to the hospital, grabbing my ticket and finding the best parking space in the lot because you know, good things happen to good people.

  Of course, tempting fate and Lady Luck by saying shit like that is just an awful and petty thing to do, and that bitch smacks me down as I twist my ankle on my favourite pair of pumps as I step out of my car. I collapse onto my open car door, and pray to God that no one saw me.

  When I stand upright, I’ve got the slightest twinge of pain shooting up from my ankle, and forego supermodel walking my way into the emergency department minus the air blowing through my hair.

  That’ll teach me to tempt my curse, and the bad luck that goes with it. It’s what happens when I let myself forget about it – nona Imelda’s curse comes up like a beast from hell to hunt me down until it does what needs to be done – namely to make me clumsy, or just in general to take me down two or three or a hundred pegs in the ego department.

  Thanks, nona. I love you, too.

  I get to the registration desk and make sure precious Dean is still in his bed in Monitored Care getting checked on by hottie nurses that probably give him embarrassing hard-ons. The pain in my ankle feels better already!

  I walk through the big blue door of Monitored Care and strut my stuff counting time in my head to distract from the smell of stanky human beings and the remnants of alcohol-laced vomit. Ah, barely-legal teenagers first trip to the hospital! I hope the parents get a picture for the family photo album.

  I spot Dean at the far end of the room, his long legs on top of the skinny sheets, bare feet crossed over one another at the ankle.

  Hello, headlights are on, locked and loaded, because a nurse has moved out of the way and I can now see he is wearing nothing but skin above his hips.

  He’s looking down at his phone, making the iPhone look tiny and delicate in his Viking hands. Man, I think this guy was born in a different time or something. He’d be at home wearing armour, sword and shield, jousting a la Knight’s Tale with the late, great Heath Ledger. And making this princess drool, and generally beg for him to give it to her.

  Female and male nurses alike (there’s like two of them) are looking at him up and down. I mean come on! I’m sure those dudes are totally okay with being gay a few seconds as they look at the expanse of chest and broad-ass shoulders that look like, if he were standing in front of me on a sunny day, they would block out the very sun.

  A young chick nurse is at his side now, as I click-click-click my way over to him, getting all the attention of the boys in the yard (no milkshake needed) and watch her make as much physical contact while trying to get his I.V. line out. Hell, if I was in her place and was in front of such a hottie mctottie, I’d probably do the same thing.

  I get on the other side of Dean’s bed and give a smug smile to the nurse. Yeah, I’m onto you, and female to female, I approve!

  Maybe sensing movement out the corner of his eye, Dean glances my way, his gaze travelling from my belly button up and up and up to my boobs and then my face. I give him another I’m onto you smile, raising an eyebrow so he knows he’s been caught.

  His guilty look has little minions inside my belly trying to break dance and show off their skillz. This guy is hot and cute at the same time, and wow, I’m gonna tap that. ASAP.

  “Hey,” he says, dropping his phone in his lap and giving me a wave with his free hand.

  Yup, so going to have him underneath me.

  “Hey yourself. So? Did I break something in your brain?” I ask, looking to the nurse who is staring at me open-mouthed. She looks like she’s been practicing doing invisible BJ’s. Maybe I should tell her something.

  Maybe I won’t if she keeps looking at me like that.

  “He’s being discharged as soon as the doctor signs off on the paperwork,” she tells me, eyes narrowing to slits, still holding Dean’s arm even though the IV
line has clearly been extricated in an expert fashion. Applause, applause!

  “Thank you,” Dean says, smiling up at Nurse Noseyface. “Just let me know when I can go,” he tells her, leaving his arm in her grasp and still smiling at her.

  When the nurse finally leaves, he swings his head to look at me – that’s when I get to see the slightest wince of pain on his face. Yeah, bumping your noggin on something as unforgiving as pavement wasn’t the best of ideas.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks with a not-so-friendly tone, like I’m the one that put him in this bed. Oh, wait…

  “Staring at all your male perfection on display. Good idea leaving the jeans on – really gets my imagination going, if you know what I mean.” I give him a thumbs up and a saucy grin.

  Dean’s eyebrows leap up the skin of his forehead and his green eyes get big. I have the insane urge to kiss him between his eyebrows because all that adorableness should be rewarded somehow. Kisses seem like a good idea because kisses always lead to something else…

  I half expect him to get underneath the covers and stop the amazing view I have right in front of me. Seriously, this guy is built in a way that’s not shredded, but the kind that looks like he eats enough for four people. His pecs are thick, his abs only hinting at a six pack, and his arms are thick with muscles that bulge and punch out of the skin like little mountains. He’s all terrain without all the details needed; all man without any wiryness.

  Gimme more.

  “But what are you doing here?” He emphasizes the ‘you’, and that sort of pisses me off, remembering how easy he talked to Sera. Now that it’s me here, conversation is drying up.

  “Coming to see if you still have some brain cells left,” I spit out, trying to rein in my bitchy side. The rules are simple. Be a dick, then you’re going to get a dick back.

  “Well, I’m fine. Moderate concussion. There’s no real reason for you to be here,” he says through clenched teeth as I watch his fingers inch closer and closer to the hem of the sheets under his legs and ass.