“You hid your notebook in your closet?” Ro says from behind me. “How interesting. It’s almost like you wanted Mom to find it.”
I give him the stink-eye over my shoulder. “Leave me alone, Dr. Freud.”
He leans forward. “By the way, have you finished another one? Did you put a list of issues in the front so you can reference them easier?”
I nod, grinning. “Yeah, you were right. That made it so much easier to find a specific—”
Dad cuts me off. “It doesn’t matter. You’re still grounded, and I don’t think you should see this boy anymore.” He stands like the discussion is over.
“Why?” Mom and I both say at the same time.
“Because he’s the cause of all this, obviously.”
“Logan didn’t ask me to lie.”
“Let’s not be too hasty here, Hank. He seemed like a good kid.” Mom’s always been a romantic.
Dad throws his hands in the air. “Whatever, but you’re still grounded.” He stomps off to the living room.
“Yes, sir,” I call after him.
“And no allowance for this month,” Mom says.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s it?” Ro slaps the back of my chair. “That’s all you’re going to do to her? If I’d done all this, you guys would have locked me in the basement.”
“That’s ridiculous, Roland,” Mom says. “This is Louisiana, we don’t have basements because of the water level.”
I leave Mom and Ro to their bickering and head for the stairs. Dad is sitting on the bottom step. He rubs his forehead like he has a headache, then looks up at me. “We don’t have to have our marathons anymore, if you don’t want to. If you’re really concerned about what the kids at school will think, then—”
“No, that’s… I love the marathons. I love hanging out with you.”
He smiles, then quickly goes back to his stern-dad face. “Don’t do anything like that again, Maddie.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
He stands and hugs me like he hasn’t seen me in years. “It doesn’t matter what you like to read, you know that, right? You’re so smart, I don’t see how you got this idea in your head. Who cares what other people think?”
“I know, it’s just… It’s high school.”
“It’s not just high school. People are going to judge you for all kinds of reasons for the rest of your life. Because you vote one way or the other, because you go to one school or the other, because you look a certain way. It’s a fact of life: you can’t make everyone happy. But you can make you happy.” He pokes my shoulder.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You’re welcome. Now, go up to your room, and you know, think about what you’ve done and stuff. I’m going to take some aspirin.”
…
I’ve been trying to fall asleep for a good three or four hours. The house got quiet a long time ago except for the TV downstairs. I’m sure Ro passed out on the couch and forgot to turn it off.
But you can make you happy, my father’s voice repeats over and over as I stare at my ceiling.
Have I been trying to do that all this time? Has that other part of me been trying to break through because deep down I know I’ll never be happy until… Until what? Until I’m able to freely discuss who I think would win in a battle between Darth Vader and Lord Voldemort? (The answer obviously being Lord Voldemort. He’d Avada Kadavra Vader way before Vader could even think about the force choke move.)
The crazy thing—okay, maybe one of the crazy things—is I broke up with Eric and my house hasn’t been egged or rolled by the football team. He even said he likes the same things I do. Plus, I told Terra and Rayann about Logan and last I checked, I haven’t been unfriended by everyone on Facebook, even though I’d bet money Rayann has told everyone she could send a text message to. And Terra, even after I was such a bad friend to her, was still concerned enough to make sure I was okay tonight.
For a long time, I thought this hiding habit was harmless. I wasn’t hurting anyone, right? After everything that’s happened these past few weeks, I can admit I was wrong. I was hurting someone: myself. Instead of protecting myself, I’ve been pushing everyone I care about away. I’ve hidden who I am from my friends for years. I’ve lied to my parents about where I’ve been going. I’ve gotten so caught up, so concerned about the things I could lose, I ended up losing something really important: Logan. Because of him I’ve realized how amazing it can feel to be completely free. He might not know it, but that’s something no one else has done, and that’s priceless to me.
As I lay here in bed, an unbidden question pops into my head: so, what am I going to do about all this?
In issue #250 of The Super Ones, the character Grayson was introduced. He was this shy kid who had great powers but no confidence to use them because he was an orphan who’d been picked on by the other kids at the home where he grew up. But he never lost hope. He knew one day he’d prove himself worthy.
Then, on the day he turned eighteen and left the home, he got into trouble. Baron Gravity knew Grayson had powers, and he wanted to get rid of him before Grayson could learn how to use them. But Marcus had been keeping an eye on the baron for a while, suspecting this bad guy was up to something. So when Marcus saved him, Grayson saw what he could be one day. He begged Marcus to teach him, but Marcus, being the “I don’t need any help” d-bag he was back then, turned him down.
Grayson vowed to make Marcus proud, so maybe Marcus would want him by his side. He went after the baron who had gotten away in the initial battle, but he didn’t know what he was doing. He got himself into even more danger and still had to be rescued by Marcus.
Even though Grayson’s plan didn’t go like he wanted it to, Marcus saw the potential in him and ended up taking him on as his sidekick for the rest of the series.
I don’t know why this story is the one I rehash as I try to go to sleep, but a plan of my own begins to brew.
#23
I lay low for the rest of the weekend. I do my chores, I don’t argue with Mom, and I absolutely, positively do not feel sorry for myself. Because feeling sorry for myself is getting really old.
Then, on Monday while Dad is at the hardware store, I approach Mom and beg her to let me go over to Terra’s so I can apologize. It doesn’t take much begging.
…
Terra’s house is so normal, so unimposing with its soccer-mom minivan in the driveway, its lazy tomcat basking in the sun on the porch, and its tire swing swaying in the almost nonexistent breeze in the front yard. So why do I feel like it holds a horrible monster when I pull up to it? Why do I feel like I could get swallowed up by the sheer hate that emanates from it?
Her little brother—“little” only because he’s a year younger, but he’s actually taller than me—answers the door. He has the same reddish-brown hair as Terra, but it looks like his facial hair comes in redder. That mustache is seriously, epically bad.
“Hey, Jaime, nice mustache.”
His hand goes to cover it so his voice is muffled when he says, “Th-th-thanks, Maddie.” Poor thing has stuttered every time I’ve talked to him.
“Is Terra home?”
“She’s in her room.”
It’s a weird feeling standing in front of her closed door. I don’t think I’ve ever had to knock on it. I poise my fist, ready to tap on the door, and then I hear music. It’s a song I’ve never heard before, a slow twinkling of a guitar and a light, shy voice. Maybe it’s a new Allison song.
I knock, and the music stops. There’s some rustling inside before she opens the door. When she sees me, her expression becomes so resentful I want to go hide in a corner.
“Hi. Can we talk, please?” I repeat the word “please” in my head over and over.
She frowns as she stares at me, studying my face. “Fine,” she says, and I almost jump up and down.
She sits on her bed, and I close the door behind me. She stares at me some more. It’s like she’s taken “How to get a
confession out of Maddie” lessons from my mom.
I decide I shouldn’t beat around the bush. I should just come right out with. “I’m really, really sorry. I’ve been a horrible friend.”
“You freaked me out. I was so worried. And you practically ruined the concert.” She crosses her arms.
“I know. I suck. I’m such an idiot. I was selfish and stupid. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Ever, ever, ever. And I totally understand that you never want to see my stupid face again. I just wanted you to know you’re the sweetest, most trustworthy person ever and wanted to thank you for being so concerned about me even though I didn’t deserve it.”
Terra continues to look at me, but her accusing stare is gone. It’s been replaced by this blank, bored expression.
My nerves are so on edge. I’d love a relaxing Shoot Your Face! session right now.
Finally, she sighs and rolls her eyes. “You’re right. You didn’t deserve it…”
My spirits take a tumble at this.
“…but I forgive you.” She stands. “And you owe me.”
She grins and holds her hand up for a high five. We go directly into our usual greeting. The hug I give her at the end lasts a long time.
“So, it’s all squashed? You don’t hate me?” I say hopefully.
“Totally squashed. Let’s just forget about it.”
“Forget about what? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Terra’s giggly laugh rings through the room, and a little piece of my world falls back into place. Soul-Sisters forever.
“So, what’s been going on? What was that music I heard? Did Allison release a new single?” I ask as we flop on her bed.
“You heard that?” Her nose crinkles up.
“Yeah, it sounded pretty.”
“Really? You think it’s pretty?” A genuine smile takes over her entire face.
“Yeah, what was it?”
She chews on her thumbnail for a second. “Peter broke up with me. He called from Florida.”
“Oh my God. You two have been together for how long? Like eight months?”
“Yeah, well, he said we’d gotten too serious.” We both make a pfft sound at the same time.
“I’m sorry about that. You want me to break out the brass knuckles and pay him a visit?” I hold up my fists in a boxing stance.
She nudges me with her shoulder. “It’s okay, really. It was actually kind of a good thing. No, not kind of, it was a good thing. After that happened, I turned on that Allison tour documentary. She started talking about how she taught herself to play guitar and that the first song she wrote was about a boy she liked who didn’t circle ‘yes’ on the note she passed him before recess.” Her words rush out, her hands doing all kinds of weird little gestures. Man, I missed regular hand-talking Terra.
She hops up and starts pacing. “Then, I remembered my guitar I got for my birthday when I was in, like, fifth grade, and I thought, ‘Maybe this is a sign.’” She pauses, wringing her hands.
I can only wait a second before I can’t hold it in. “And?”
“And… I wrote a song.” She bites her lip.
“And… Now you have to play it.”
“I don’t know, Maddie. It’s really not—”
“Play it!”
“Okay,” Without pause, she wrestles her guitar out from under her bed.
…
After I’ve called for an encore twice, I offer to take Terra out for a snow cone, knowing she can never resist one.
At the little wooden shack that seems to appear out of nowhere every summer in the Wal-mart parking lot, I order a blue raspberry cone and Terra orders a rainbow one.
Terra holds my cone while I pull back into traffic. “Where to now?”
I start to suggest my house or hers, but another place pops into my head.
Maybe I just want to beat myself up. Maybe I’m trying to hold on to every little piece of Logan I can. Either way, the aquarium is where I decide to go.
“Yay!” Terra bounces in her seat and claps her hand against her snow cone when I park.
“It’s still as awesome and deserted as ever.” I smile at her.
Terra opens the door and pauses for a moment, bathing in the cool air from inside. “I can’t remember the last time I was here. When was it that we skipped first period?”
“I think that was right before Christmas. I’ve been here since then, though.”
“We totally have to sign in. Do you have a pen?”
“Yeah.” I take extra long digging through my purse, though, because I know what’s going to be on the first page. He wouldn’t let me see it then, but there’s nothing stopping me now.
I open the book, and there it is. Logan’s small, precise writing.
Graffin and Laowyn 4 ever.
Terra points at the page. “Aw, that’s sweet, huh? Weird names though.”
My chest feels tight, the first sign I’m about to bawl my eyes out. “Yeah. So sweet. And they’re cutest, weirdest names I’ve ever heard.” My voice cracks on the last word. 4 ever only lasted for one LARP game and a bowling date.
I can’t help it. The tears come.
Terra grabs my hand. “Whoa, what’s wrong?”
It’s really hard to catch my breath, fight back tears, and talk at the same time. “I… That was… I’m so stupid, Terra.”
She waves for me to follow her into the aquarium. “Come on, girl. Let’s sit down and have a talk.”
#24
The sun is shining today, and I mean really shining, like burn-your-eyelashes-off shining. This is going to be one of those summer days where no one steps away from the air conditioner unless it’s a life or death situation. I hope everyone will take this into consideration later when I run around searching for people to help me in my quest. But first, I have to start with step one of the “Make Logan Not Hate Me” plan.
I sit down on my bed and flip through the phone book until I find The Phoenix.
“Thanks for calling The Phoenix, what can I do for you?” Logan’s smooth voice makes my breath hitch in my throat.
I have to control the urge to ramble on with apologies and confessions. I put on my fake guy voice. “Could I speak to Martha Scott, please?”
“She’s not in today. Can I take a message?” he says.
“No, I’ll just try another day.” I hang up. I picture him put the phone down and hunch back over the comic he’s reading, just like he was the first day I walked into the shop. Except, this time there’s an evil, dark fairy sitting next to him, talking smack about a certain cheerleader.
“Whatcha doing?” Mom asks from my bedroom door, bringing me back to Earth.
“Nothing. Actually, I was thinking of going over to Logan’s, if that’s okay.”
“Could you define ‘grounded’ for me because I do not think it means what you think it means.” She waves around a clean pair of my socks to emphasize her point.
“But, Mom, I have to fix this. I’m not going to have fun, believe me. You said, ‘It’s all about how you treat people,’ right? Well, I have a plan to at least apologize to Logan, but you have to let me out of the house.”
She looks at me for a minute. I can almost feel her mom-brain-tentacles digging through my thoughts, looking for a lie, but she’s not going to find one because one isn’t there.
Finally, she comes over to me and puts her hands on my shoulders. She squeezes. Hard. “All right, but you go there and nowhere else, understand?”
“Um, I might need to stop at a couple of other places, too.”
She hits me square on top of the head with the socks and sighs.
…
Vera’s face drops when she sees me at the door. She crosses her arms. “Logan’s not here.”
“Is your Mom?” I ask.
Martha comes around the corner and into the front entrance way of their house. “Vera, what have I told you about answering the door.” She stops when she sees me, and I wonder if she’s going to
tell me to stay the hell away from her son. Did he tell her what happened? Did Eric actually follow through on his promise to “fix things” and come by to apologize?
A huge smile lights up her face, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Hi, Maddie. Vera, go watch your show.”
Reluctantly, Vera goes into the living room, making sure to cast a scornful glance at me behind her mother’s back.
Martha holds the door open for me. “Come on in.”
I follow her into the kitchen. She sits at the dining table and shoves her husband’s paperwork to the end of it. I sit down across from her. Now to begin the groveling.
“I just want to say I’m so sorry about what happened to Logan. I so did not intend for—”
She holds up a staying hand. “It’s all right, hon. You didn’t hit Logan. Besides, Eric apologized and explained the whole thing. These kinds of things happen with men.”
“So, you know about the Eric debacle?”
She nods.
“And so does Logan?”
She nods, again.
“But he still thinks I’m ashamed of him.”
“You’re right. That’s exactly what he thinks.”
I close my eyes and bite my lip.
“But that’s not what’s going on now, is it?” When I open my eyes, she’s smiling that familiar smile. My heart leaps into my throat.
“No, no, absolutely not. I mean, at first I was worried about my friends finding out about things, but then Logan made me realize that—”
She reaches across the table to put a soft hand on mine, halting my rambling. “I understand, hon.”
I sigh out the words, “Thank you.”
“But as much as I understand what’s going on, Logan does not. Do you want him to?”
“Very much so. I was wondering if you could help me?” I straighten my back like I’m about to discuss a business agreement, a merger of Guy’s Mom Inc. and The Potential Heartbreaker Company.
“What do you need?” I get the feeling she understands the seriousness of the situation, too, because she steeples her fingers together and props her chin on them.
“Do you have copies of the books for LARP of Ages? I need to read up on it before the next game.”
The Summer I Became a Nerd Page 16