How to Date a Nerd

Home > Young Adult > How to Date a Nerd > Page 9
How to Date a Nerd Page 9

by Cassie Mae


  “Yeah.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets and folds his arms, covering the words. “Is that all you want?”

  Throwing him a sheepish grin, I pull up my hoodie so he can see my shirt. I’m ready for his mouth to upturn in that irresistible smile, but instead he goes blood-orange red and tugs my sweater back down.

  “If you don’t need anything else, I’ve got a lot of stuff to do.”

  “Zak, I…”

  “You can save it.”

  I startle back from his tone. “Save what?”

  “Whatever you want to say. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Why do you say that?” I’m trying to keep the hurt out of my voice, but I don’t know how successful I am.

  He glares at me, like I should be smart enough to figure it out. “I really do have a lot of crap to do.” He rubs his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “So, if that’s all you want, you should go.”

  “I-I’m sorry,” I sputter.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear it, Zo.”

  I’m chipping at him. He used the nickname.

  “It’s not like that with me and Hunter. I… he wanted… I can’t…” Argh! I can’t get the words out because I don’t know what the right ones are.

  “You think I’m upset because some guy was all over you?”

  I nod—lying to him. Again. I know it’s much deeper than that.

  “Guys are always all over you. At least the ones you talk to.”

  I’m not sure what to say. He’s right, so I can’t argue. So I say the only thing I can. “I’m sorry.”

  He sighs, dropping his hands back into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said yesterday, it’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

  I really wish he’d stop saying that.

  “Will you still give me a driving lesson today?” I know I’m pushing his limits. But I can’t help myself. I want to spend time with him. I have to do something to clean up the mess I made, even though I’ll probably end up making it worse.

  But it’s like I’m addicted to him or something.

  “I don’t know.”

  I gulp, and dig up the courage to say something I haven’t in a long time. “Please?”

  Zak raises his eyebrow again, probably surprised I asked nicely. He seems to argue with himself, chomping his teeth and running his hands through his feathery hair, interlocking his fingers behind his neck. I play with my ring underneath the pocket of my hoodie, trying really hard not to blow out my cheeks as I wait.

  Finally he opens the door and steps outside. “Let’s go. But it’s gonna be a short lesson today.”

  I nod, forcing back the wide smile that wants to glue itself on my face as I follow him to my car. “Thanks.”

  Zak doesn’t open my door for me, but it sure looks like he wants to. He stops halfway up the drive and stares at the car like it’s giving him a pop quiz. Then he slumps his shoulders and climbs into the passenger seat.

  Guess I’m not as forgiven as I thought.

  I strap the seatbelt on, my hands shaking like the paint mixer again. Zak’s not paying attention to me though. He’s picking at the stray fabric on his holey jeans, not a word passing his lips.

  “Okay, so I just need to keep my foot on the clutch and the brake to start the car?” I ask, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

  He nods.

  A defeated sigh seeps out as I turn the key. He doesn’t offer to shift. Still says nothing as I smack my hand on the stick, shoving it downward into that screwed up reverse position. The only response I get is his eyebrows shooting skyward in approval.

  He starts picking at his jeans again as I back up.

  And stall.

  I growl and let my head fall on the steering wheel. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Are you talking to yourself, or me?”

  I puff up my cheeks and let it out before I answer. “You.”

  “Look, I said I’d teach you how. So I’m going to follow through.”

  “But you don’t want to.” I peek under my arm so I can get a look at his face. He presses his wrist in between his eyebrows, like he’s got a major headache or something.

  “Just start the car, Zo.”

  I want to cry. I totally deserve the frosty attitude, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. Zak’s only been this pissed at me once. And it was my fault then too.

  Instead of apologizing again, since it’d be pointless, I start the car, put it in gear and try to stay calm as I reverse out of the driveway. When I get to the street, I’m not sure how to shift, but I try my best, Zak watching my hand without making a sound.

  The grinding the car makes as I shove the shifter in first makes me cringe, but Zak still stays silent. He doesn’t look bored, or annoyed, or even angry. He looks like he’s beyond caring. I’d rather take the anger.

  The car jerks forward as I ease off the throttle, rocking us both in our seats. This continues during the entire drive to the parking lot we went to before. I pull in, and shut off the car, my eyes watering. I can’t tell if I’m more humiliated or hurt because of what I’ve done to him.

  “You did really good.” His voice still sounds like he’s trying not to care, but he’s saying it anyway. “It takes practice.”

  I nod, ’cause my voice will totally come out all juicy and snotty if I attempt to use it.

  It’s silent between us, that horrid awkward silence that makes the tension in the air like sniffing glue. I feel sick, and stupid, and want it to all go away.

  A growl erupts from Zak’s throat which makes me recoil in my seat.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  His concern locks a fist around my throat, making me croak out my words. “What?”

  “There’s something wrong. What is it?”

  I shake my head. “It’s nothing. Just forget it.”

  “Zo…”

  His hand goes for mine, but then he stops mid-air. A heat wave comes off his face as he pretends he was just going to scratch an imaginary itch.

  “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me,” I blurt. “Even though you have every right to be pissed.”

  Zak growls again. A really guttural and menacing growl as he smacks his fist on the roof of the car. “I don’t get you.”

  “What do you mean?” I say, though I know exactly what he means. I don’t get me either.

  “What is this to you?” He waves his hand between the two of us. “Are you using me like you use everyone? Once you know how to drive that’ll be it?”

  He thinks I use people? Oh gosh. He’s starting to think Popular Zoe is the real Zoe. I mean, that’s what I thought I wanted, but it’s totally not. I like that he knows Geek Zoe. Because Geek Zoe is just… Zoe.

  “Do you want that to be it?”

  “You’re not answering me. I don’t like games. So if you want this to be a teacher-student thing, then keep it that way. No more treating me the way you do at school then coming over to say sorry so I’ll help you. No more jumping across our windows to get into my room. You obviously don’t care as much as I thought you did.”

  “No, please…” I stutter, my eyes ready to flood out. Great. “I didn’t mean… at school, it’s just so different. I don’t know what happens to me.”

  “I know exactly what happens to you.” He shakes his head and starts clicking the lightsaber keychain on his hip.

  “But… I… I never ever mean to… I guess I don’t think about it hurting you.” I slam my face on the steering wheel again. “I’m selfish. That’s what happens to me. I can’t think about anyone but myself when I’m there.”

  “I don’t think that’s true, either.”

  My brow crinkles as I turn to him. “What?”

  “If you only thought about yourself, who you really are, you wouldn’t care about what other people think so much.” He looks out his window, his breath fogging up the glass. “And you’re still not answering me.”

  “What was the quest
ion, again?”

  He rolls his head back to look at me. “Are you using me?”

  I shake my head wildly. It may come off its hinges.

  “You’re saying you want to be my friend again?”

  Is that hope in his voice? Like, does he want that too?

  I totally want to be close to him. To hug him and tell him that’s exactly what I want. Without really thinking, I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean over him, taking in his intoxicating scent. His breath catches with his surprise at our proximity, but he doesn’t move. His eyes lock with mine, searching for the answer to his question.

  A flash of movement passes the window behind his head, pulling my eyes away from his.

  Outside, BJ and Keira walk across the park grass, snuggled into each other, laughing and flirting.

  Crap. If they look this way and see me leaning over Zak like this, I mean forget the Chlamydia rumors. It’ll all be about me seducing the Head Nerd. It sucks to think of Zak that way. Because he’s so much more than just someone people make fun of. He’s fun, funny, super awesome to hang out with, and accepts people for who they are. He’s not afraid either. To be himself.

  And I’m nothing like that.

  I’m afraid of myself.

  I reach over Zak and yank on the seat release and he flies back, letting out a yelp.

  I fumble around with the keys, start the car and screech out of the parking lot without stalling the dang thing.

  Zak adjusts his seat. “What was that about?” He turns around to look out the back window, and his voice lowers. “Oh.”

  I open my mouth to say the apology on my tongue, but he stops it.

  “I think you’ve got the hang of this driving stick stuff. Take me home.”

  I nod, because there’s really nothing to say, and then stall the car.

  I try again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Still nothing. My legs shake too much to concentrate, and all of a sudden Zak yells at me.

  “You have to feather the clutch, Zoe! You’re doing it too fast.”

  My defenses zap into place as another wave of tears splash down my cheeks. I’m always crying around him. “I’m trying!”

  He puts his hand on my knee, but it’s totally not sexy. He tries to control my foot as I let it off the clutch.

  The car goes forward, then comes to an abrupt stop.

  “ARRR!” I scream and shake the steering wheel. I so can’t do this right now. I’m hurting him. Hurting me. Hurting everyone.

  “Get out.” Zak unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his door.

  “What?”

  “Get out!”

  I crawl into the passenger seat, pouting like a freaking five-year-old. I know the person I should be pissed at is me, but Zak is the one who’s going to get the brunt of it.

  “I’m sorry! I can’t concentrate!”

  “It’s ’cause you’re in too much of a hurry to get out of here without being seen with me,” he snaps. “So let me help you.”

  He starts the car and shifts like a crazy racecar driver, and before I know it, we’re back in my driveway.

  “Were you watching?” he says as he chucks the keys in my lap. “That’s how you drive stick. And that’s your last lesson. Hope you learned something.”

  “Zak, wait.” He doesn’t. He’s already halfway across the lawn separating our houses by the time I catch up to him.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” I say grabbing his arm.

  “Just stop it!” He jerks back from my hold and I stare at him like an idiot. “Why am I such an embarrassment to you?”

  Again, I have no answer for him. He shakes his head, his hair flying around his face.

  “Forget it.”

  Everything inside me says I need to go after him, but I stay put. There’s nothing I can say that wouldn’t be totally contradictory to what I do.

  I stop the flow of tears and stomp to my bedroom, slamming the door so hard I’m surprised my house is still standing.

  Flattening my lips into a straight line, I gaze out my window at Zak’s room. He wants to chuck keys at me? Yell? Continue to be dork of the year? Fine.

  He’ll never understand anyway. He won’t get it. He’s never been popular. He’s never had to hide who he really is because he can handle it.

  I can’t.

  And I’ll probably never be able to.

  Chapter 14

  Someone needs to explain to him what

  a booty call is.

  “Will Hope’s parents be home?” Dad shuts the fridge and pops open a can of Diet Coke before looking at me. I give him the “impatient daughter” roll of the eyes.

  “Yes, Dad. It’s just a sleepover. Girl stuff.”

  He takes a sip before answering. “Girl stuff.” He pauses, taking another drink. “No boys then?”

  Duh. “No boys, Dad. It’s going to be Hope and me. Maybe Keira.” That’s a flat-ass lie.

  I haven’t seen Zak since our fight, and I yell at myself every time I realize I’m thinking about it. It’s not like I can make anything better or that I want to. I’m done with that craptastic attempt at getting his attention.

  Jesse’s party tonight is exactly what I need to forget this whole frakking mess.

  “I don’t know…” Dad leans against the counter and it creaks under his weight. “Who’s going to watch your sister?”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” Sierra pipes from the table, her fingers curled in front of her face so she can blow her nails dry. “Mom’ll be home at like ten, right?” She flicks her gaze to me then back to Dad. “So I’ll only be alone for an hour or so.”

  Dad grunts and rubs the stubble on his chin. “And you’ll behave? Both of you?”

  “Yes,” we say together.

  His eyes go back and forth between us before he lets out a puff of air. “Okay. But Zoe, you bring your phone and answer it if your sister calls. And Sierra, no friends, and no leaving this house.”

  We both nod and Dad chugs the rest of his soda. “All right, I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”

  Late shift. Again.

  Always really. It bugs me how much he and Mom work, but not tonight. Tonight I need them gone.

  The second he leaves I run upstairs to change. I pull out the purple number I was going to wear at the last party and strip down to my undies. The window isn’t even open because I’m done with that. I can’t do it anymore. I need to forget about those amazing—yes, amazing—few days I had with him. Because it’s not… it can’t be what I really want. I’ve worked so hard to be this person. The girl who goes to parties and gets the boys and who everyone wants to be.

  And Zak doesn’t want anything to do with that person. Guess I have to live with that.

  Plopping onto my bed, I dig my phone from my jeans. There are a few texts and for a second my brain gets really stupid hoping they’re from Zak. My stomach does a twist turny thing when I open the messages, then drops when I see they are all from Levi.

  I guess I can’t blame him for trying to get a hold of me. I never gave him my number—I’m sure one of my friends did—but I did give him some tongue. He’s probably waiting for his booty call.

  He won’t have to wait much longer.

  If I’m going to stay popular, and forget Zak, I better do it right this time. Not halfway.

  I’ll c u @ the party 2nite.

  I hit send and toss my phone behind me. There’s something stinging behind my eyes, but I shake my head and focus on getting dressed.

  Yeah, a party and a new boy will cure whatever is wrong with me.

  “You’re not going to Hope’s, are you?”

  Sierra leans against my doorframe, not looking at me, but at her feet.

  “You going to rat me out?”

  “No.” She steps in my room and settles on the center of my bed. “I’m a good sister.”

  I roll my eyes and go back to putting on my eyeliner. “You were in the effing hospital. I had to tell Mom.”

  �
��I-I know.”

  My head whips around, and I swipe a big black mark across my cheek. Sierra’s not looking at me, she’s picking at a loose thread in my comforter. I don’t even know how to respond. She’s never agreed with me on anything.

  She twirls her finger around the thread and yanks it out of my bedspread. “So, you’re going to a party?”

  I shake my head and grab a wipe to get the eyeliner off my cheek. “I’m not taking you.”

  “I wasn’t asking to go.” Her eyes narrow. “I was just curious.”

  Yeah right. Like I’m going to believe that one. Unless…

  “Is someone coming over?”

  “What?”

  “Is that why you’re okay with me leaving? And why you won’t tell Mom and Dad? You’ve got someone coming over, don’t you?”

  She huffs a huge breath out her nostrils and crawls off my bed. “You know, I’m not as bad as you think I am. I was actually going to bed.” Her hair bounces a little as she storms across my room. “Have fun at your party.”

  And she’s gone.

  What the heck? That was so not normal Sierra behavior. I think house arrest has done something funky to her brain.

  Either that or she’s gotten better at lying.

  It doesn’t matter. I can’t worry about what’s going through my sister’s head when I’m so messed up myself. Split personalities and all.

  Time to convince the world, and myself, that I’m happy with the choice I made to redefine myself.

  Because I am happy with it.

  I. Am.

  See? There’s the smile in the mirror. Now, adjust the boobs… and I’m set.

  I don’t even look at my bookshelf or my window as I walk out.

  ***

  “This is the part where you tell me the name of that guy you were gushing about the other day.”

  Hope gives me a huge grin and runs a stop sign in the process.

  Ugh. I wish I could go back to two days ago when that’s all I wanted to do—gush. But I have to get Zak out of my brain. Shove him so far away I won’t remember why the heck I liked him in the first place.

  It’s not going to work if my friends keep bringing him up.

  “No. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I’m moving on.”

 

‹ Prev