How to Date a Nerd

by Cassie Mae

  Calm down, Zoe.

  “No. You told your mom you’d be home for dinner. You don’t want to piss her off.”

  “Then come over and eat.” He smirks at me and I roll my eyes. Another escape from the bathroom is not what I had in mind for tonight.

  “Thanks, but I really should go home.”

  “Okay. But you’re missing out on some good food.”

  I’m sure I am. Mrs. Gibbons’ cooking is amazing from what I remember. But this whole thing has gone on long enough. Time to get back to the real world.

  I turn the key, and smack my hand on the shifter. Zak buckles back up and sits there watching my arm as I try to shift.

  “Um, hello?” I say giving up and waving my hand in front of him. “I still need your help.”

  He laughs and laces his fingers with mine over the gearbox. “Just remember, I can’t hold your hand every time.”

  But he gives me a little squeeze, letting me know he won’t mind if I ask him again.

  Chapter 10

  I can totally handle two personalities.

  Oh. My. Gosh. That was one of the best afternoons of my life. Yes, I stalled the car about fifty times. Yes, I talked about my nasty ex-boyfriend. Yes, I bawled my eyes dry. But I can’t stop smiling. I thought I couldn’t like that nerdboy any more than I already did, but all the scrunched up queasy feelings turned into a riot in my belly the second he put his hand on mine.

  Boy, am I in trouble.

  And I’m totally on a high! I want to scream it out to someone. Dance around and squeal and do all that stuff girls do with their girlfriends when they meet THE guy. It totally sucks ’cause I can’t.

  But I want to talk boys. Just to get it out. Make it official that I’m totally into him and then maybe I can push it away forever.

  I blow up my cheeks and pull my laptop out.

  All I have to do is show a little bit of control. I don’t have to go all-out nerd with Hope. Just tell her I’m into a guy and like, it’s totally awesome. Then she can squeal and show the proper enthusiasm without actually knowing who it is.

  I can do this.

  No problem.

  I log on and see Hope’s online. Sweet! I open a chat window and start typing.

  Zoester: hey girl!

  Hopin4lovin: hi! wut u up 2?

  Zoester: nuttin. just got home.

  Hopin4lovin: from where? I thought u were grounded?

  Zoester: from my old friends. not from new ones. ;)

  Hopin4lovin: OMG! spill!

  Zoester: not much 2 tell. ;)

  Hopin4lovin: come on! tell me!

  Zoester: just a guy.

  Hopin4lovin: who????

  Zoester: no one u kno. but he’s amazing!

  Hopin4lovin: not gonna tell me? Zoe, I’m ur best bud!

  Zoester: I kno. I wanna c where it’s going first.

  Hopin4lovin: gotcha. glad ur in a better mood.

  Zoester: me 2.

  See, totally can handle this. I tell Hope a quick g’nite and shut off the computer. Since I’m “grounded” I probably shouldn’t be using it a lot anyway. It’ll help Geek Control too.

  I’m still smiling as I dress for bed. When I shimmy off my tight jeans and low-cut blouse, it’s only then I realize Zak’s eyes never lingered over my body. At least, not that I noticed. He always kept his gaze locked on my face, or my hands. Maybe that’s why things are so different with him. He’s not constantly ogling me.

  Wait a minute. Maybe he doesn’t think I’m attractive enough to ogle. I run to the full-length mirror. I’m only in my underwear, but it gives me the opportunity to assess everything.

  I guess I’m a little too curvy. I have some love handles, but all girls have those right? Except those freaky skinny ones. My hair still looks hot even though some of the color rinsed out in the shower. I’ve always been proud of my boobs, but maybe it’s the bra making them look so big and perky.

  I cringe as I adjust myself, trying to see if I fill the underwear properly. After a few minutes of tugging at it, I huff and slink my arms down to my sides, smacking my hips.

  Agh! My hips are so wide! And I have thunder thighs.

  I bring my arm up and play with the sagging fat by my armpit. I’ve heard all girls have this too, but mine is nasty. How did I ever think I was hot?

  Zak’s phone rings, which jolts me out of my boob dancing and fat flailing. It’s his house phone, and the answering machine picks up right away, which I can hear loud and clear. Mrs. Gibbons’ sweet voice echoes through the open window.

  You’ve reached Maddie and Zak. Leave a message and we’ll get back to you when we can. BEEP.

  There’s silence for a brief moment, and I figure whoever it is decided to hang up, but then a deep voice, one I haven’t heard in over three years, stammers from the line.

  Hi Zak. I-It’s Dad. Just wanted to see h-how you were. You know school and stuff.

  Dad?! I must’ve heard that wrong. I stick my head out my window so my ears don’t lie to me again. No way is Zak’s dad calling him.

  Um, if you get this before tomorrow, I’m gonna be at the Econo Lodge in Sante Fe. Room 25, so if you want to call me back, that’s where I’ll be.

  He pauses.

  So, yeah. I guess I’ll…

  Another pause.

  L-love you son. CLICK.

  Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. Zak can not hear that message. After years of silence, Zak wrote his dad off, and this? It would destroy him. And even thinking about the effect it’ll have on his mom makes me shudder.

  What do I do? I mean, I could rush over and delete the dang thing before Zak gets home. I don’t know where the crap he is, or how long he’ll be gone, but I know where his hide-a-key is. I can be quick.

  Or should I even worry about it? He’s not my friend, right? I mean, not in public.

  Agh! What the hell do I do?!

  I know what I should do. Get that message off his phone. It’s totally meddling, but I can’t even imagine the look on his face if he hears it. I don’t want to see him lose it like I lost it today. I don’t want to see him in that much pain. Especially if I can prevent it.

  I pull on my “Mr. Hyde” sweatshirt which couldn’t be more ironic with all my mood swings today, and a light from Zak’s driveway catches my eye.

  Dammit! He’s home!

  Forget the hide-a-key. Forget the front door altogether. I gotta get over there stat! I take a deep breath and a few steps back from the window. I haven’t done this in so long, I hope I’m still capable without getting hurt.

  I launch myself outside, hooking my hands on Zak’s window ledge.

  Yikes! At least I didn’t miss.

  I pull up slowly—thank you fourth period gym!—and a sliver digs itself into my thigh.

  Holy crap, that hurt!

  I hop into his room, ignoring the throbbing from the dang sliver and try not to breathe in too much because of how distracted Zak’s amazing scent would make me. I cross over to the answering machine which I’m so glad is in his room in the first place and I don’t have to book it to the kitchen.

  Oh gosh, how do I work this thing?

  Right as I find the delete button, Zak’s door swings open.

  Chapter 11

  Who knew pulling out a sliver could be so sexy?

  “You know, I think I’m going to ask Mom to start locking the door when we leave. We don’t want any crazy neighbors to get in.” He chuckles and shrugs out of his jacket.

  My back hovers over the machine, and I hope he won’t immediately go to it. My fingers are slipping over buttons, but I’m afraid I’ll accidentally hit PLAY instead, so I don’t push anything. “Um, I came through the window.”

  He shakes his head, letting his hair wave away from his eyes. He’s laughing as he peeks outside. “Did you lose your pants?”

  Gah! How could I forget I’m only in a sweatshirt and underwear? I want to act cool, like it’s totally on purpose. I mean, I do that all the time! I prance around in much le
ss, but I find myself grabbing his blanket and awkwardly wrapping it around me.

  “Sorry,” I mumble. “I forgot to put them on.” Could things get any worse?

  He pulls out a pair of jeans and tosses them at me, his face lobster red. “Well, wear these till you remember yours.”

  My jittery hands do not help as I pull up his pants, which are too big. I suck a breath through my teeth as the material scrapes against that darn sliver.

  “Did you hurt yourself?” His amusement wipes from his voice, replaced with that worried look I still don’t know why he gives me.

  “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Just a sliver.”

  He gulps and for the first time I see his eyes flicker to my legs and stay there.

  “You should really get it out before it gets infected.” His voice and hands shake, and his face flushes so dark, steam would come off him if I poured water over his head.

  Maybe my thighs aren’t as thunderous as I thought. I smile, and let the jeans fall to the ground, stepping out of them gently while keeping my eyes locked on him.

  “Will you help me?” My heart crashes around my chest. I’ve done the whole sexy, flirty thing millions of times, but I never meant it. I’m not using Zak for anything. I just want him to find Geek Zoe sexy. To totally treat me like I’m his own Princess Leia.

  He closes his eyes and turns his back on me. I’m ready for a rejection, for him to tell me to go home, but instead he grabs a pair of tweezers from his desk and motions for me to sit on the bed.

  He sits next to me, his eyes desperately trying not to look at my bare skin, but I know he has to. He knows he has to, but he’s fighting it.

  I should help him out, even though he’s being so cute, and I like seeing him get all nervous because of me. The sliver is jammed into my inner thigh, high enough you can see my cute boy short underwear—good thing I didn’t go with the thong today—but low enough he won’t have to touch my crotch. I pull up the oversized sweatshirt so it reveals more of my attire, but I stick my leg out in such an unsexy way I’m sure he’ll be able to control his shaking hands.

  He laughs as I almost kick him in the face, and he moves to the floor, crouching so he can get a better look at the nasty thing.

  “Ouch. I wouldn’t call this much of a sliver. More of a twig.”

  I punch him in the shoulder. “Well, maybe you should consider sanding down your ledge.”

  “I didn’t realize my neighbor would leap into my room in her underwear.”

  “Ha ha.”

  The cold tip of the tweezers hits my burning leg, and I cringe.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No. Just cold.”

  “Try to hold still. I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice hitches on the last sentence, and I suppress the wide smile that wants to form on my lips. Holding still is going to be a problem.

  We’re silent as he tries to get it out. I wince from the brief seconds of pain, but mostly I focus on the way he keeps his distance. Like he doesn’t want to touch me. I know this’ll go a lot faster if he grabs my leg to balance while he works, but he doesn’t. The only touch I feel is from the tweezers.

  But there’s a tension in the air I can’t ignore. Our stuttered breathing patterns, the heat radiating off our bodies, the building sweat on his forehead, and the pounding my heart makes in my ears. Goosebumps erupt over my skin, like it’s trying to reach out and close the distance between his fingers and my leg.

  I close my eyes and hold my breath. My hands clench around the pillow on his bed as I fight every urge to knock the stupid tweezers out of the way and tackle him to the floor.

  “There.”

  The air I’ve been holding flutters out in small wisps as I look at the giant sliver he pulled from my leg.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He pats my leg as he stands. Then as if he’s forgotten he’s avoiding touching me, he jerks his hand back and hides his face.

  I tuck my legs back together, smiling at his reaction. Standing, I tug the sweatshirt down so he doesn’t see my underwear. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

  “So, uh,” he stutters, “why are you in my room?” He’s still not looking at me as he crosses to the desk to put the tweezers away.

  “Oh, well, um.” Great. Now I’m the one stuttering. I’d completely forgotten why I flew myself across our houses with the temporary distraction, but now it zaps back to my head. My eyes flicker to the blinking light on the machine right as he turns around.

  “Zoe,” he says smirking, “did you leave an embarrassing message on my phone?”

  Crap.

  Before I can move to delete the darn thing, he bolts past me, reaching for the play button.

  I jump on his back, making him lose his balance and smack into the floor. I straddle him, pinning his arms down with my knees. He’s laughing hysterically, but stops when he hears the dreaded voice I can’t stop in time.

  “Hi Zak. I-It’s Dad.”

  His smile fades, and his mouth opens wide. He’s staring right into my face, but I know he’s not really looking at me. He’s listening to every word on that message. And with each word, his eyes shine more and more with tears he’s forcing back.

  This is the face I didn’t want to see. The pain and shock and just… everything I can’t make better. I don’t know how. I just don’t want to see this look on his face ever again.

  We don’t relax after the message ends. We sit in a tense silence, me still on top of him.

  What do I say? What do I say?!

  “Are… are you okay?” I know it’s a dumb question, but it’s the only thing in my head.

  He nods, but it’s too rapid to be the truth. I take my knees off him, and sit to his side. He still doesn’t move.

  I don’t know what to do. Or if I’m even the right person to do it. He’s just lying there, staring at the ceiling with that horrid expression still glued on his face.

  Come on, Zoe. You used to be good at this stuff. Especially when it came to him.

  Because nothing else comes to mind, I grasp his hand, which seems to bring him back to life. He stares at it, his brow furrowing, like I’ve suddenly grown fur or something.

  Maybe that wasn’t the thing to do.

  But he pulls me down on the floor and holds me against his side.

  A few minutes ago, this would’ve made me incredibly happy. To lie here in his arms and feel his warm body against mine, but right now I feel sad for him. I rub his chest, and he holds my hand there.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into his armpit. He squeezes me tighter, still not saying anything. I reach for the blanket I dropped on the floor earlier with my toes and pull it up over us. He lets me use his arm as a pillow, and I trace the words on his T-shirt, which I didn’t notice until now, say Dr. Jekyll.

  Finally, after almost an hour, he says something.

  “You awake?”

  I look up to see his face, but his eyes are closed. I nod and snuggle into him more.

  “I never thought I’d hear his voice again,” he says over my head. “When he left, I thought he’d be gone for good.”

  Now I’m the one who doesn’t say anything. I can’t think of the last time Zak talked about his dad. And that’s not because we’ve had a falling out. Ever since his dad left, it was a forbidden topic. Like saying Voldemort.

  “You heard the message didn’t you? That’s why you risked your neck to get in here?”

  “Uh… yeah.”

  He pulls my chin up so I can look into his dark, watery eyes. “I didn’t know I could count on you like that.”

  Something inside me whips around like beaters mixing cookie dough. I’m suddenly aware of how vulnerable I’ve become with him. How I want to melt into him. How much I want him to kiss me and never stop. And maybe I could keep it all a secret. Hide it from everyone at school. From my friends. From my family. From everyone.

  But I can’t do
that to him. He deserves more than that. More than me.

  I want to shove my insecurities away. Make them all disappear somehow, but I can’t find the strength. Half of me gets excited envisioning his hand around mine as we walk down the halls at school, but the other half starts hyperventilating to the point of getting sick.

  And then everything else shoves itself into my mind. How high school will become middle school all over again.

  The whispers.

  The shouted insults.

  The disgusted looks from people I thought were my friends.

  The desperate attempts to be liked for who I really am, and failing.

  Crying over the gossip.

  Crying over the hurt feelings.

  Crying over everything. Just because of what I like. Of who I like.

  It’s better to pretend. It’s better to be fake because it hurts less.

  I shrug out of his arms and swipe my cheeks before Zak can see. He sits up and watches as I strip the blanket off and walk to the window.

  “You should probably take the stairs.” His voice sounds defeated, but it’s probably more due to his dad than me. Though he knows what goes through my head most of the time, I doubt he knows how screwed up I am.

  “I’m not supposed to be out this late. I don’t want to get caught.”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.” He glances at the clock. “And your parents aren’t home yet. Just hurry.”

  He’s right, and I’m trying to ignore that he still knows this much about me and my family. I get to the door, resting my hand on the knob.

  “You’ll be okay, right?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  I pause, blowing up my cheeks.