As I come around the corner to the back lot, Dan’s dad steps out of his massive Suburban. I’m still slightly mesmerized by his beauty. His long, lean legs were made to wear those cowboy boots. He smiles a dazzling smile as he smooths back his longish, wavy hair and pulls on a baseball cap. I know the man is almost forty, but a girl can look. From the moment I met Mr. Garrett, I knew I was right about Dan being the type of guy who’s going to get better looking as he ages.
“What do you think, Maddie?” Mr. Garrett points to his hat. It has the festival’s logo, then underneath it says, “Sponsored by Garrett Taxidermy.”
“It’s perfect. Thanks again for your help, Mr. Garrett.”
“It’s no problem. This is a great thing you’ve thought up. And what better business to sponsor something like this than a small business that’s made it big, like mine.”
Dan walks out from the back of the large, black Suburban carrying a big box. “If your puny arms can handle it, why don’t you help us with these T-shirts,” he says.
“Someone’s not a morning person.”
“Bite my chunky—”
“Daniel!” Mr. Garrett yells from the alley. “What did I tell you about how to treat a lady?”
Dan just grumbles as he follows his dad.
When I go to the open back end of the Suburban, I freeze at the sight before me. Logan sits on top of one of the boxes reading a notebook. My notebook.
I clear my throat, and he looks up. Mr. Garrett might have dreamy eyes, but there’s no competition when it comes to Logan’s blue stare. He closes the notebook, drops it in a seat behind him, and opens the box he was sitting on. “I hope we sell the hell out of these things because Dan’s dad bought about a million of them.” He pulls out one of the festival T-shirts and hops out of the Suburban.
I notice some blue paint under his fingernail. My cheeks suddenly feel extremely hot because I know where that paint came from.
He opens another box. “And these are genius.” He holds up a fan/water squirter also sporting the festival’s logo.
I just nod.
We each take a box, and I follow him down the alley, questions flooding my mind. Where did he go last night? What did he mean by “finally”? Did he mean, “finally this is happening,” or, “finally I can put my feelings for this girl to rest and move on,” like I suspect? But when we make it to the front, I realize now is not the time.
Cars are already filling up the library parking lot. Plus, Terra and Rayann are jogging across the street.
Dan brings out a dolly, and Logan and I stack our boxes on it. I turn to Logan, hoping I might be able to get in at least one question before everything gets hectic, but he’s looking at his phone.
“Ben’s here. I have to go help him.” He points at the alley.
“Okay,” I say, even though I feel the exact opposite.
#30
“Oh my God, I’ll be so glad when this is over,” Rayann says as she and Terra approach, both decked out in their cheer uniforms.
“You’re just going to have to deal with the heat. This is an awesome thing Maddie has put together. Who cares if your makeup runs?”
I want to hug the crap out of Terra for standing up to Rayann. Instead, we go directly into our high fives and ankle-kicks.
“This is great, Maddie. I’m so proud of you,” she says.
“Is Chili’s going to have a booth, I could really go for some—”
I cut Rayann off by holding up a hand. “Chili’s is not exactly the right business for this event. It’s called the Small Business Festival, remember?”
Once the rest of the squad shows up, we get to it. We perform every hour on the hour. By midday, Vera knows all our moves and cheers. She stands in front of us with her friends, copying our routines. It’s so cute, I can hardly stand it.
We take a break, grabbing cold water bottles from our coolers, and listen to Logan over the speakers.
“Oh, I didn’t even notice we had a radio station here. Thought it was just a CD player?” Rayann nods at one of the speakers. “What station is it?”
“The college station. They’re getting some of the profits from today. Did you even read the flier you were supposed to have put up all over town?” I ask.
“The college radio station? As in ‘Awesome Logan’s Show of Awesome’? Oh my God, I love him. I listen to his show every night. I call in all the time. Is he going to be here?”
“He’s here already.” I grin at Terra. “In fact, there he is.” I point at Logan sitting at station’s table into front of the comic shop.
After realizing Capri is actually Rayann, Terra and I knew it was only a matter of time before she found out she had a crush on a nerd, but this is better than any reveal we could’ve come up with. Rayann frowns and tilts her head to the side like a confused poodle. “Isn’t that… Wait, A.L. is Logan Scott? The porn shirt guy? I can’t believe I actually asked him for his number. Yuck.”
Logan spots us. I smile at him, and he waves back.
Her confused poodle-face turns to me. “Wait, are you… You’re Wonderful Wendy?”
“Yep.”
“But… He’s such a nerd. Everyone knows it. I mean, you can’t go to prom with…with…that!” She raises her voice a little too high, and the rest of the squad turns their heads to watch.
She sits on one of the coolers, apparently too stunned by my treachery to stand. I glare at her, my hand crushing the almost empty water bottle I’m holding. “You know what, Rayann? I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think. Or what anyone thinks, for that matter. You don’t know him, and you definitely don’t know me. He’s the sweetest, most considerate guy ever. And if he wants to wear that ‘porn shirt’—which by the way is Power Girl drawn by Adam Hughes and it’s a freaking work of art—and his old sneakers to prom, I’d be proud to go with him. So, you can take your shallow self back to the pirate ship and leave us alone.”
Not only is the squad watching, but a lot of other people are, too. What’s awesome is that I don’t even have the urge to run away and hide. I throw my shoulders back and don’t break eye contact with Rayann. There’s a snicker behind me I quickly recognize as Terra’s. That one is followed by a couple more. I turn, preparing myself to lay into them, too, but they’re not laughing at me. They’re focused on Rayann.
Rayann opens and closes her mouth a few times in shock. It’s an excellent impersonation of Mr. Whiskers. “Pirate ship? What are you… Ugh. Whatever! If you want to commit social suicide, be my guest.” She throws her arms in the air and stomps off.
Dan stops her before she gets too far and tries to sell her a T-shirt. “Come on, Capri. It’s for a good cause.”
She just slaps the shirt out of his hand and keeps walking.
He turns to me and grins. “What did I say?”
…
The festival is a success. In fact, it exceeds my expectations. Next year, we’re definitely going to need more room.
Unfortunately, the squad couldn’t do a pyramid for Vera during our last performance because Rayann decided to leave. I’d like to think this whole thing might’ve taught her a lesson, or at least, given her something to think about, but I’m not holding my breath.
Dan and Jonah did a great job of selling the T-shirts and fan spritzers. They set up in the library parking lot so they were the first booth people came across. Surprisingly, Dan went above and beyond when it came to hocking his merchandise.
“Stay cool and help the school, get your water gun fans here!”
“All T-shirt proceeds go to charity. Show your friends how philanthropic you are! And maybe even get a tax break!”
Mom and Dad showed up later. Dad got some back issues of comics he used to read, and Mom bought a new rocking chair from the carpenter’s booth.
Even Tommy, a.k.a. Sorenson, showed up in costume to sell college students on the greatness of LARP of Ages. Martha made a ton of money off the theater crowd, especially the improv troop.
All day the co
llege station’s broadcast has been piped out over our little shindig. So, when Logan pulls his mom over for a live interview toward the end of the festival, my ears perk up to listen.
“So, Martha, this festival has been awesome. What do you think?”
“I agree. We’ve worked really hard to make it great so this is just wonderful, Awesome Logan,” Martha says.
“What gave you the idea to put this together?” His tone sounds like he already knows the answer.
“As much as I’d like to take the credit, this wasn’t my idea.”
“Wait,” he says, all hint of knowing the answer gone. “You told me this was your doing.”
“I’m sorry. I lied.” From where I’m standing on the practice mats the coach set up for the cheerleaders, I can see the trademark Scott smile spread across her face. “The truth is this was all thought up by a certain nice, young girl.” She looks in my direction and Logan’s gaze follows.
I pretend to be completely enraptured by the nearby bakery booth that’s selling cake-pops. After a few seconds of silence, I glance back. Martha and Logan have their hands over their mics and are leaning close to each other, having what looks like a very fast-paced conversation. Martha says something that makes Logan’s mouth drop open and his eyes sort of glaze over, and then she flicks him on the forehead. He sits up straight and adjusts his mic.
The sound of him clearing his throat crackles through the speakers. “Well, let’s get the real mastermind mind over here. I hope all of my regular listeners remember Wonderful Wendy.” He waves a hand for me to come over.
I shake my head vigorously, but Terra laughs and shoves me toward his booth. Reluctantly, I take Martha’s seat. She pats my head, then leaves to help a customer.
Logan stares at me, his shock still obvious, then seems to realize we’re on the air. He clears his throat again. “So, this is quite an amazing undertaking, especially for a seventeen-year-old. What made you do it?”
“I…I know this guy whose family owns a small business here in town. They were having troubles like a lot of locally owned stores, and I couldn’t understand why they weren’t getting the customers they deserved. I know prices are lower at the bigger, chain stores, but I think the benefits to the community are worth the extra dollar or two. Then I thought maybe people just didn’t know about all the amazing stores around town. So, why not give them the opportunity to explore them in one place and make a little money for charities and the college at the same time?”
I can’t believe I got all that out without stumbling over every other word, especially with how intently Logan is watching my mouth.
He shakes his head slightly and looks me in the eye. “That’s very noble of you. So, what’s been your favorite booth today?”
“They’re all great. Did you know Cajun Confections has an orange spice cupcake with hot sauce in it? So yummy. But I’d have to say my favorite has been The Phoenix. I spent most of my money there. I picked up the first five issues of the new Green Lantern.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Well, thanks for talking with me today, Wonderful Wendy, and to all the listeners—”
“Actually, my name isn’t Wendy,” I blurt out. “It’s Maddie. Madelyne Jean Summers. I’m a cheerleader at Natchitoches Central. And I love comics.”
Logan raises an eyebrow. “Good for—”
“Oh, and role-playing games. And video games.” Now that I’m confessing, I can’t seem to stop.
“Okay, well—”
“And reading regular books, all kinds, and science fiction stuff. I’ve also been thinking of making a costume for next year’s NerdCon. Maybe Princess Leia when she was captured by Jabba the—”
Logan flips the switch on the microphone. “That’s great, but we need to get back to some music now.” He looks like he’s trying very hard not to smile.
“What? You don’t like that part? I thought all guys had a thing for Leia in that metal bikini thing.”
“Of course, I like Leia in the…bikini thing. But don’t announce to the city you’re going to be wearing that. I can hear Dan from here making a note on his phone to get passes to S.N.C. next year. And look at Tommy and his friends. They haven’t stopped staring. Tommy’s grooming his fake beard, for God’s sake, probably getting ready to hit on you.” Logan glares at Tommy, who straightens and tucks his beard comb back into his robes.
“So, you don’t want me to dress up for the con next year?”
His gaze drops to my lips again. “I didn’t say that.”
I can’t help myself. I lean closer and whisper, “How about Power Girl? I could probably work that costume up before next year.”
The rest of the festival fades away when he smiles. He opens his mouth to answer me, but I don’t let him speak. Instead, I press my lips to his. He goes tense, and for a second I think he’s going to pull away, but then he falls into the kiss with me. He runs his palms over my bare shoulders as I wrap my arm around his neck, and I could seriously just melt away.
When I pull back, his content sigh echoes over the speakers. Ben must have turned the mic on from the control board when the song ended, which, by the look on some of the faces around us, was a long time ago.
#31
Most of the stores have packed up their booths and gone home by the time the crickets start chirping. I hang around to help put away all The Phoenix’s merchandise. At some point before the job is finished, poor little Moira zonks out in the office, so Martha, Mr. Scott, and the rest of the clan go home, leaving Logan and me to lock up the shop.
We pass each other five or six times as we lug the long, white comic boxes back to the storeroom. It feels like we’re two magnets being held just close enough to almost connect, but then we’re pulled apart.
“There’s one more left,” Logan says as we pass each other again. “Could you lock the door behind you when you come back in?”
The last box isn’t that heavy. It was the super cheap box so it’s only half-full of one-dollar comics. I lock the front door behind me and make my way to the back room again. The sun is setting. Its pinkish-purplish rays stream in through the display windows, but the light doesn’t reach the back.
I turn the corner to the back room and try to find the light switch with my elbow. I can’t find it, but suddenly, the light pops on. Logan’s right next to me, which scares the bejesus out of me. I squeal and drop the box. The books scatter across the floor.
“Sorry,” he says. “I was trying to be smooth and help. But once again, I screw it up.”
We both kneel down to gather up the comics. “What do you mean ‘once again’?”
“I screwed up that day with Eric.”
“That was my fault. You didn’t screw anything up.” My hands shake as I stack the books. “I’m sorry, Logan.” I let out a long sigh. It feels like I’ve been waiting to say that for years.
He doesn’t belittle my apology by brushing it off, by saying anything like, “It’s okay, it’s no biggie.” He lets it hang in the air for a long minute, then nods, accepting it.
“I did mess up last night, though,” he says. “Where did you go?”
I give up on trying to concentrate on the comics. “I went home. Where did you go?”
“I knew I should have told you before I left, but everything was so crazy. I went to my house to get something for you, but you were gone by the time I got back to Tommy’s.” He reaches over to get my notebook that was lying on one of the boxes. I didn’t even notice it was there.
He holds it out to me. “Thanks,” I say as I thumb through the pages. There’s now green writing along with my purple throughout it.
I stop on one page: The Super Ones #328. Underneath where I wrote, Marcus is such a jerk! Can’t he tell Wendy loves him? Logan wrote, in his neat, precise scrawl, How is Marcus supposed to know if she doesn’t tell him? He has plasma powers, not telepathy.
“I hope you don’t mind that I put a few things in there.” He scoots closer so he can read over my shoulder.
>
I shake my head, too busy reading all the green ink I can find and trying to focus past my sheer delight at him being so close to me. I flip to the #400 entry.
Purple: “Be true to yourself and others will be true to you, too.” Yeah right, what a crock.
Green: I’d be true to you no matter what.
I look at him over my shoulder. He’s smiling that honest smile.
“Are you sure about that?” I ask. “I’m not exactly the most stable person. I’m still getting used to this whole being myself thing and—”
“I know what type of person you are. You’re the girl who picked the longest book Mrs. Mackley listed in ninth grade Honors English to do a report on because it mentioned a love story on the back. You’re the girl who, in tenth grade, told Elinor Pensky that if it were up to you she would have gotten the last spot on the squad. I know because she told me.”
“She knew every one of our cheers. She studied them like they were her Advanced Chemistry notes.”
“But everyone knew there was no way she was going to make it, seeing as her and her group of friends are known as the Nerd Herd. I mean, who does stuff like that?”
He brushes a piece of my hair that’s fallen from my ponytail over my ear, his fingers lingering on the sensitive spot behind my earlobe. Despite the heat, a shiver runs across my neck. I turn and lean into him. He plants his lips firmly against mine and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to him. We stay like that for a very long time. I run my hands through his already messy hair. His hands drift up my back, and I don’t care that the itchy fabric of my cheerleader top is scratching my skin even more, because he’s the reason. He’s the reason for a lot of things these days.
Eventually, it gets to the point where I have to come up for air. I clutch his Power Girl T-shirt and grin. “Do you need telepathy to understand that?”
“I think I get the message, but I can’t be sure, really. Maybe you should tell me again.”
And that’s how I ended up making out with the love of my life in the storeroom of a comic shop where, it turns out, heaven really can be found.
The Summer I Became a Nerd Page 20