Dating on the Dork Side

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Dating on the Dork Side Page 27

by Charity Tahmaseb


  The second I opened the door to the tutoring room, the lights flashed on. There was an explosion of blue and white pom-pom fringe and flying ponytails and … almost everybody. Byron and his friends. Lexy and the entire pom squad. Mercedes and Dalton. I glanced around; the only ones missing were Elle and Rhino. And Sophie.

  But a moment later, Sophie skidded into the room. “Surprise,” she said, giving my arm a gentle punch.

  Lexy rushed up to me. She was holding a long sheet of paper in her hands. “Camy, look.” She shoved the paper at me. “I took your speech from the pep rally and … look!”

  I held the paper carefully. “Aww, it’s in glitter glue,” I said. Pink, purple, and electric blue.

  A lot more things happened in the tutoring room that afternoon, but studying wasn’t one of them.

  I smiled all the way home. I was still smiling when I pulled open the cover of my laptop and turned it on, then I remembered my mission.

  I opened the browser and typed in the address of the Hotties v. Notties video. Nothing. I searched as many ways as I could and came up with several candidates. Each of them turned into a dead end, though. I tried typing the account holder’s name, TrojanMan, and found about what you’d expect: tons of sites devoted to condoms, and one notice that a video posting account had been suspended for reported violations.

  Just in case, I punched in my own name, Camy Cavanaugh. What I found then surprised me. In the past week, the citizens of the Internet had been busy discussing me. My name popped up in blogs and feeds, a whole page’s worth. And none of it had anything to do with a troll doll.

  Instead, from Olympia to Prairie Stone, to Bear Head Lake and back, the “uplifting,” “inspiring,” and “OMG totally AwEsOmE” story about a former football player turned homecoming candidate who’d stood up for girl power and against rumors ... had gone viral? Well, viral in a small town Minnesota kind of way.

  Wow.

  When I opened my inbox and Facebook wall, they held so many emails and posts that I wondered if I’d ever have enough time to get through them all. Most of them were quick messages of support. Mixed in were new friend requests, invitations to Halloween parties (Mercedes) and harvest festivals (Lexy). Prudence had suggested I “like” the OHS orchestra, and Bing Bing wanted to know when I would be available for an interview and photo shoot. The investigative article she’d threatened me with earlier was going to be a “Trojan Treasure” feature instead, whatever that was. Sadly, my AcreRage chickens had passed away from neglect, but I thought I might be able to nurse a few of the sheep back to health.

  I sorted the posts between the ones I needed to respond to right away, and the ones that could wait a while before I did something with them. One from the first category had come from my mom. The subject line said, Fall Break Plans.

  I sighed.

  Mom had been great about what she called “the situation.” Sure, she’d lectured me, but she’d also really talked to me about respect, between guys and girls, and between girls and girls too.

  “You’re growing up,” she said at the end of it. And it’d felt like she meant it.

  That didn’t mean I was all fired up about visiting her over fall break, though. I mean, I do love my mom. I miss her and I wish I could spend more time with her. But I wanted to spend time with my friends too. When I opened her email, I realized that both of our school breaks were at the same time. I wrote to her:

  Mom, I’d really like it if you spent fall break with me here. That way I could introduce you to some of my friends and talk to you and Dad about my college plans. <3 Camy

  Five minutes later, she responded:

  Camy, Sounds like a great idea! See you soon. ~Mom

  I had one more email to sort and I couldn’t decide if it was a do it now or a pretend you never saw it. Someone with a screen name I hadn’t seen before had sent a link to me:

  Hotties of Troy2! Check it out!

  I held one hand over my eyes and clicked the mouse with the other. When I finally found the nerve to peek, I saw a new wiki. An open one where anyone could post—as long as the message was positive. A wiki where someone called Adm*n kept everyone in line. Mercedes had left one of the first messages:

  mercedes: We won the chess meet! We pwned the pawns! Dalton and Tara are so hot, it’s like their brians are on fire!!!!!!

  Beneath that, Dalton had posted a response:

  daltonr: Mercedes swept the novice division. Her “brian” is on fire too.

  I was still laughing when the doorbell rang downstairs. I opened the door expecting to see Boy Scouts selling popcorn, or third graders hawking wrapping paper for the annual PTA fundraiser. Instead, I found Elle. And she wasn’t alone. She had a death grip on Clarissa’s upper arm.

  “Somebody has something to say to you,” Elle said.

  “I wasn’t trying to make things worse. I swear.” Clarissa yanked her arm out of Elle’s grasp. “Remember Homecoming?” she began. Like it was a night either Elle or I could forget. “That night, I tricked Jason into leaving his laptop at my house so I could get into the wiki and see for myself. Well, I did, but I also found that video, and a bunch of other ones, saved on Jason’s hard drive. They were funny, and actually kind of clever.”

  “Really?” Elle said. “Even the one of you?”

  A blush blazed up Clarissa’s cheeks, but she recovered quickly. “Anyway, I asked him about them the next day and he got all freaked out. He made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone that he had them. I pushed him about it and he finally caved.” The memory of her conquest brought a smile to her face. My stomach started to churn.

  “Here’s the deal,” she said. “When Jason saw the videos last spring, he sent a link out to everyone on the baseball team, and guess who that included? Yeah. Rhino.”

  Obviously it made sense to Clarissa. And from the way Elle nodded, she’d understood as well. But, frankly, I was lost.

  “I still don’t get it,” I said.

  Elle pulled a fresh copy of the YouTube print from her jacket pocket. “Look at the date on the video. It’s just before the wiki got started, right?”

  “And?”

  “Don’t you see? When Rhino found out what they’d done to you in that video, that’s when he built the wiki. He made the guys all promise to stop posting things anywhere else, and in exchange, they could have free rein inside The Hotties of Troy.” Elle paused and spoke her next words slowly. “He did it to protect you.”

  I studied the paper in my hands. “Why didn’t he just tell me when I found out about the wiki?”

  “He didn’t want you to know about this,” Elle said. “He didn’t want you to be hurt.”

  In my mind, I heard the echo of Rhino’s protests that day I’d confronted him about the wiki: No one was supposed to get hurt. I thought about the strange exchange between him and Gavin when we convinced Rhino to help us shut it down.

  “Was it that bad?” I asked. After all, I’d survived the wiki. How awful could a troll doll in a football helmet be? Enough to ruin a friendship?

  Elle cast a glance at Clarissa. She went pink again, shrugged, and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  Okay. Pretty awful. I sighed. Rhino. Wasn’t he always riding to my rescue, whether with an ugly orange skirt, the cash for the perfect homecoming dress, or a crazy scheme to protect my online reputation?

  “Still,” I said, turning the paper in my hands. “Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

  “Look around you, Camy.” Elle said. “This isn’t your tutoring room. It’s the real world. People take risks to get what they want. They make mistakes. Try factoring that into your problem and see what answers you come up with.”

  I nodded, then sighed again. “I think I need to go work on some math.”

  Clarissa’s forehead crinkled, but Elle snorted and tugged her down the steps. When they reached the car, I called out to her.

  “Hey, Elle?”

  She looked up.

  “Thanks.”

  “What are f
riends for?” She grinned. “Let me know when you figure out that equation.”

  I nodded, my eyes drawn once again to the paper in my hands. Could I solve this one? Math had never been my best subject, but it was kind of like a test, and I was good at those. Still, it would take some work.

  Camy + Rhino = what?

  I woke up early the next day. The sun hadn’t risen yet but I could already tell that something felt different.

  I gathered up all the printouts I’d made of the wiki and carried them to the outdoor fireplace in our backyard. On top, I placed the screen shot from the troll video. I lit a match, then stood there, under the last of the night’s stars, and watched them burn. When the only thing left was ashes, I scooped them into a jar, washed the smell of smoke from my hair, and walked to Rhino’s.

  The cold air nipped at my cheeks, enough so that I’d wrapped a scarf around my neck before I left the house. It was still early, and Rhino’s garage door was shut. That was okay. I’d planned on leaving the jar with a note, anyway.

  The second the glass touched concrete, the door creaked, and I stepped back to let it open. Rhino was standing in the center of the space. His hair was a mess, and he was wearing an oversized Twins sweatshirt with a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.

  He pointed to the jar. “What’s that?”

  “The wiki,” I said. “And a screen print from something called Hotties v. Notties.”

  His face tensed. I held still, held my breath, and waited. It didn’t happen right away, but at last I saw the crinkles around his eyes deepen and that rare, warm Rhino smile appear.

  “We okay, Ladybug?” he asked.

  “I hope so.”

  “You were right, you know.”

  “I thought you said there was no such thing as right and wrong.”

  “I was …” His lips twitched. “Wrong.”

  I laughed.

  He held open his arms and for three glorious seconds, Rhino let me inside his personal bubble.

  “I missed you,” he said, but my throat was so tight, all I could do was nod.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I asked a few moments later.

  Rhino gestured toward the driveway. “See for yourself.”

  A cherry red Mini-Cooper pulled in, and Elle rolled down the window. Her face brightened when her gaze landed on me, and she waved.

  “It’s about time you two made up.” She looked over at Rhino. “Well? Anything new on Todd the Toad?”

  “He has some extra evidence, but nothing you don’t have a counterargument for,” Rhino said. “Plus, he’s doing this thing where he touches his nose, but he’s just trying to fake everyone out. Don’t fall for it.”

  Elle nodded. “You’re the best.”

  I expected Rhino to agree with that. Instead, he leaned toward her window. “No, you are,” he said and gave her a quick kiss.

  “Let me guess,” I said after Elle had driven away. “Another debate with Prairie Stone?”

  “We both like the challenge.”

  “I’m glad you two are working things out,” I said. “She’s nice.”

  “Please, Ladybug. You’re nice. She’s … Elle. But speaking of nice…” He raised an eyebrow. “What about you and a certain football player?”

  I took in a deep breath and shrugged my shoulders as I let it back out.

  “Did you know he was willing to take the blame for the whole wiki? He knew how much it would hurt if you found out I was behind it.”

  I shook my head. But it sounded like Gavin.

  “Call him or something.”

  “I might,” I said. “Right now, I’m just going to take a walk.”

  I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear, but my feet led me to the football field. The toes of my Chuck Taylors had just touched the fifty-yard line when I heard the pounding of sneakers behind me.

  I turned, and froze.

  It was Gavin. His breath was coming out in clouds and he had a football tucked under one arm. “Hey,” he said. “Rhino told me you’d be here.”

  “He did?”

  “Well, he texted, and said I should take a walk.”

  That sounded like Rhino. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

  “You are?”

  I nodded. “I’ve wanted to tell you how sorry I am for everything.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the lousy season. I—”

  Gavin interrupted. “It’s not like any of us deserved to win, anyway. Except for the last game. I wish you could have seen it, Camy. Randall was awesome.”

  “I bet you were pretty awesome too.”

  “Nah.” He shrugged, then a smile snuck onto his face. “Actually, I wasn’t too bad. Coach Cutter set up a meeting with a recruiter after the game. Guess who’s playing college ball next year?”

  I gave him a high five. “That’s great.”

  “Randall too. We’re pretty stoked about it.” He tossed the football in the air and caught it. It was good to see him show some confidence. Maybe Rhino was rubbing off on him.

  “So, I was thinking about it. You know how the high school quarterback always ends up with the best girl in school and stuff?” he said.

  Maybe a little too much of Rhino’s confidence was rubbing off on him. I squinted, trying to make my face look fierce. I was about to repeat a little of my mom’s speech about boys and girls and respect and … when he laughed.

  “So, anyway, I hear there’s this party coming up and I thought maybe you’d go with me and you could practice.”

  “Practice what?”

  “Practice being my girlfriend. I mean, if you want to.” Gavin kept his eyes on the football in his hands.

  “Girl … friend?” I asked.

  “You’re a girl, right?”

  He looked up and I nodded.

  “And we’re friends.”

  “I hope so.”

  Gavin glanced at the football in his hands one more time. Then he looked up at me again. “So, friend. Want to go long?”

  Without answering, I ran. I ran with the cool October air against my cheeks and the turf beneath my feet. I ran, and for once, my knee didn’t hurt at all. I spun around just in time to find Gavin throwing the most beautiful pass I’d ever seen. I caught it and clutched the ball to my chest. I held on until Gavin tackled me.

  He swung me around by the waist. I might have squealed. He might have laughed. We definitely tumbled to the ground. And there, beneath the goalposts, Gavin “Mad Dog” Madison kissed me.

  This time, there were no interruptions.

  Acknowledgments

  Have you ever wondered why so many books include a page that begins: No one has ever written a novel by themselves? It’s because it is true. Our characters, their world, and the words that describe what they say and do may seem to come straight from our brains to your page or screen but that is an illusion.

  We would like to thank Jennifer Klonsky for believing in this story enough to sustain our belief in it all these years later. We’d also like to thank the fans of The Geek Girl’s Guide to Cheerleading, for continuing to ask if there would be another book. We offer our gratitude to Sara Bennett Wealer for reading and offering her amazing advice on everything from tech advancements to how to keep all of you turning the pages.

  If not for Carol Davis, our talented editor, this book would have been filled with so many inappropriate ellipses, dashes, em-dashes and misplaced commas that it likely would have been many pages longer. What do you do when your last language class was in another century but your characters have a grand desire to parlez the Francais? You contact the lovely Mlle. Brittany Mazzola and Mme. Heather Christianson to ask for their advice. Merci beaucoups, ladies! And we can’t picture this book becoming real without the talent of our fabulous cover artist, Aaron Andersen.

  Darcy would like to thank her mother, Luanne Jarvis, for being the Best. Cheerleader. Ever. She’d also like to thank her husband, Doug/Niles for the countless times he’s answered the question: she’s
or she is, which sounds better? And her children, Matthew and Sara, for learning to be resourceful during all those years that their mom sat in front of a computer screen saying, “I’ll take care of it as soon as I finish this sentence/ paragraph/chapter/novel.

  Charity would like to thank her entire family for putting up with this writing thing, with special thanks to her daughter Kyra who has a wealth of story ideas.

  Together we would like to express our appreciation for all of the wonderful writing friends we’ve made through the years, including those at Writers Village University, on WordPress, the 2009 Debutantes, and on Facebook. And finally, we would like to thank YOU, the reader. You are really what all of this is about.

  About the Authors

  Charity Tahmaseb has slung corn on the cob for Green Giant and jumped out of airplanes (but not at the same time). She spent twelve years as a Girl Scout and six in the Army; that she wore a green uniform for both may not be a coincidence. These days, she writes fiction (long and short) and works as a technical writer for a software company in St. Paul.

  Her short speculative fiction has appeared in UFO Publishing’s Unidentified Funny Objects and Coffee anthologies, Flash Fiction Online and Cicada. She blogs (occasionally) at Writing Wrongs.

  Darcy Vance is the slacker half of the author duo of Charity Tahmaseb and Darcy Vance. She didn't start writing seriously until she was 40, and didn't publish her first novel until she was 50. Even then, she needed a co-author to get the job done.

  While Charity was busy slinging corn for Green Giant and jumping out of airplanes for the Army, Darcy was busy making out with boys and perfecting the art of the doodle. She only makes out with one boy now (her husband) but she still doodles wantonly.

  Their novel, The Geek Girl’s Guide to Cheerleading, was a YALSA 2012 Popular Paperback pick in the Get Your Geek On category.

 

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