Summer of the Geek

by Piper Banks

  I left Charlie to her date sabotage and headed back to Amelia. I could see her eyes shining, and wondered if it was just reflected light from the overhead halogens, or if she was holding back tears. I hesitated, wondering what to say. I didn’t want to embarrass her.

  “Do you think you’ve gotten the hang of bowling?” I asked. “Do you want to take down the bumpers and see if you can beat me?”

  Amelia didn’t say anything for a minute, and I wondered if she was going to return to the hostile silence she’d been treating me to all day. But then she surprised me by giving me a shy half smile, shrugged, and said, “Okay. Why not?”

  Chapter Nine

  TO: mirandajbloom@gmail.com

  FROM: Della@DellaDeLaCourte.com

  RE: A Foggy Day in London Town

  Darling,

  What do you mean you haven’t decided where you’re going to live next year!?! London is so much more fabulous than boring old Orange Cove!

  I know that you were looking forward to writing for your school magazine, but trust me, darling—you’ll have many, many more opportunities to write. But how many chances will you get to live in a dazzling international city?

  I hope this reluctance doesn’t have anything to do with a certain red-haired young gentleman! I know he’s adorable, but really—there are plenty of cute ones over here, too. In fact, Henry was just asking about you the other day . . .

  Please don’t keep me in suspense for much longer . . . let me know as soon as you decide you’re coming, and I’ll book your plane ticket.

  XXXOOO,

  Sadie

  I shut my laptop without replying to Sadie’s e-mail. Was my mother right? Was I reluctant to go to London because of Dex?

  I was also distracted by Sadie’s mention of Henry. I’d met Henry Wentworth when I visited Sadie over the Christmas holidays, and we’d hit it off. Because of a misunderstanding with Dex—I’d accidentally given him the wrong e-mail address, and then when I didn’t hear from him while I was in London, I thought he was blowing me off—I’d allowed my friendship with Henry to blossom into a brief romance. I’d put that all behind me once Dex and I sorted out our relationship, but Henry and I were still friends, e-mailing each other on occasion.

  I shook off these thoughts. I was going to have to make a decision about London—and soon—but I really didn’t want thoughts of Dex, Wendy, or even Henry to come into it. I needed to think about what was best for my future—my education, college prospects, career path. That, I reasoned, was what I would tell a friend who was in a similar situation.

  I glanced at the clock and wondered what time the pool opened. I had weekends off from my job at the Fishers’, but Dex had a more erratic work schedule. Sometimes he was on the early shift at the pool, sometimes the evening, and he rarely got two days off in a row, unless he specifically requested them. He’d told me the night before that he’d be on duty at the pool that morning.

  I put on my boring navy blue tank suit, wishing, not for the first time, that I had enough style sense to pick out a trendy little bikini. The problem was, I had no idea what would look good on me. I made a mental note to ask Hannah for help when she returned from her trip to New York City. I might attend a school full of geniuses, but none of them matched Hannah’s brilliance when it came to clothes and shopping.

  It was ten past nine when I biked into the parking lot at the public pool. The temperature was just starting to heat up, the sun blasting down through a cloudless sky. By two, it would be painful to be anywhere near the blacktop parking lot. I dismounted my bike, locked it to the bike rack, and headed through the gate in the chain-link fence to the pool inside.

  The pool was a large rectangle with half of the space roped off into lanes and the other half left open for the kids to noodle around in. There were already a few dozen people in the water—some serious-looking swimmers cutting easily through the water as they did their laps and a bunch of kids paddling and splashing around one another like a family of playful otters.

  There was a cement deck surrounding the pool, and a number of chaises lined up on either of the long sides. On the short side closest to the parking lot, there was a snack bar, changing rooms, and an office where the lifeguards hung out when they weren’t on duty.

  I immediately looked up at the guard chair to see if Dex was there. He wasn’t. Instead, there was an athletic-looking girl with short brown hair and wearing an orange tank suit, sitting in the guard chair. She had a whistle on a cord around her neck, and looked very capable and professional. I gave her a smile—she didn’t return it, but then again, maybe she didn’t see me—and then headed over to one of the empty chaise longues. I spread my towel over the chaise, took off my T-shirt and shorts, and lay down, feeling incredibly self-conscious. I glanced around.

  Dex was nowhere to be seen. He’d told me that the guards only spent a half hour at a time in the chair. It was hard to keep up the constant vigilance needed while sitting out in the hot sun for longer than that. Once a shift was over, the lifeguard coming off duty would head into the air-conditioned office, to cool off, rehydrate, and wait for his or her next shift.

  I could already see that Wendy had been right about the bikini girls. There were already quite a few of them at the pool, despite the earlyish hour. They were stretched out on chaises, their hair fanned out behind them and golden tanned skin on display. How many of them were there just to flirt with my boyfriend? I worried.

  And then, as though I’d conjured her out of my thoughts, I saw her. Wendy Erickson. She and a friend were occupying two chaise longues on the side of the pool opposite from where I was. She was sitting up on her chaise, talking animatedly to her friend, but occasionally glancing around, as though checking to see if anyone was admiring her. And, as much I hated to admit it, there was a lot to admire. Wendy was wearing a tiny white-and-pink-striped bikini and large round sunglasses that made her look like a movie star. Her long blond hair was tied back with a brown tortoiseshell hair clip. Her friend was pretty, too—she had long, straight brown hair, a heart-shaped face, and a cute figure—but she wasn’t nearly as glamorous as Wendy. Wendy’s head swiveled in my direction, and before I had a chance to look away, she caught me watching her. She smiled and raised a hand in greeting. I gritted my teeth and waved back.

  A wave of sickly hot insecurity washed over me. Why was she here? I wondered. How much time did she spend at the pool? Was she here to see Dex? And, if so, why hadn’t he told me he’d seen her here?

  “Miranda? Is that you?”

  I looked up at the familiar voice, and my heart fell even further. Felicity Glen and Morgan Simpson were towering over me, both wearing unpleasant smirks on their faces. I’d been so busy worrying about Wendy, I hadn’t seen them approach.

  Felicity and Morgan went to school with me at Geek High. Felicity was petite with thick dark hair, catlike green eyes, a button nose, and Angelina Jolie lips. Morgan was short and square, with a round face and an unflattering dirty blond bob. They’d never liked me, which was fine by me, because I’d never cared for them much, either.

  “Hey,” I said without enthusiasm.

  “What are you wearing? That bathing suit looks like something a seventh grader would wear,” Felicity said. She smirked. “I guess if you don’t have anything up top, it limits your options.”

  Was it any wonder my nickname for Felicity was the Felimonster? To make matters worse, Felicity was wearing a chocolate brown bikini edged with a thick band of turquoise that showed off her figure perfectly, including her more than adequately endowed top half. Even Morgan was wearing a bikini, although hers had a red tank top that came down over her belly button, exposing only a few inches of pasty white belly flesh.

  My bathing suit—a boring navy Speedo—was so old I might well have had it since seventh grade. A hot flush spread over my face.

  “Don’t get too close to the pool, Felicity,” I said.

  “Why’s that?” she asked.

  “Haven’t you seen T
he Wizard of Oz?” I asked.

  “Of course I have,” she snapped. “Duh, who hasn’t?”

  “Well, then you know what water does to witches,” I said sweetly, enjoying the flash of rage that contorted Felicity’s pretty face.

  “Whatever,” Felicity said. She tossed her dark highlighted hair back, turned on one perfectly pedicured pink toe, and stalked off, Morgan hurrying behind her.

  I lay back in my chaise, trying to relax. It was hard to do. Between Felicity’s and Morgan’s hostile glares, and Wendy looking golden and gorgeous as she sunned herself on her chaise, my entire body was stiff with tension.

  Maybe I should just go, I thought. I could slink back to the beach house and set fire to my horrible bathing suit. Could you burn bathing suits? I wondered. Or would the resulting smoke be too toxic? Maybe I should just throw it out instead. Less dramatic, but probably safer.

  Yet at the same time, I didn’t want to leave. Despite my ugly bathing suit and general insecurity about how I would fare in a direct comparison to the gorgeous Wendy, I knew I had to see Dex’s reaction to Wendy and all of the other sunbathing girls. I needed to know if there really was something to worry about, or if I was just blowing it all out of proportion.

  Then suddenly I saw a flash of red in the corner of my eye. It was Dex, emerging from the lifeguard office, his copper red hair gleaming in the sun. He was wearing a loose white T- shirt that had the word LIFEGUARD printed on both front and back, orange swim trunks, a black butt-pack that all of the lifeguards seemed to wear, and sunglasses to shade his pale blue eyes from the intense sun. I wasn’t sure if I was just imagining it, but it seemed to me that as he began to walk around the perimeter of the pool, there was a general stirring of interest among the girls.

  “Hi, Dex,” I heard one of them call out.

  “Are you here to save us?” another asked flirtatiously.

  Dex smiled and waved, but didn’t stop, not even when he passed by Wendy, despite the fact that she propped herself up on her elbows, shook back her long golden blond locks, and gave Dex a dazzling smile. Dex just continued his walk, turning and then turning again, until he was headed in my direction. And then, when he saw me, he did stop.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice full of pleasure. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”

  “Surprise,” I said, grinning back at him. “It’s my day off, so I thought I’d come by to see you in action.”

  Dex leaned over and kissed me lightly. I couldn’t help feeling a surge of victory amidst the familiar zing his kisses always set off inside me. Take that, bikini girls, I thought.

  “Nice butt-pack,” I said.

  “Isn’t it, though? I think it makes me look extra-tough,” Dex said, flexing his biceps.

  “Definitely,” I said.

  Dex glanced behind him, where the brunette lifeguard was watching us from her perch. “I have to go get on the chair. We’re still on for tonight, right?”

  I nodded happily. “What do you want to do?”

  “My friends are having a cookout over by the beach. Do you want to go?”

  “Sure,” I said. Since Dex and I went to different schools, I hadn’t met many of his friends. I felt a fluttering mixture of pleasure that he wanted me to meet them and nervousness over what they would think of me. “Should I bring anything?”

  “Just yourself.” Dex smiled. “I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?”

  “Great,” I said.

  He kissed me again, his lips light against mine in a way that made everything go blurry around the edges. “I’ll see you later.”

  Dex turned away and walked over to the chair.

  The athletic female lifeguard climbed down, and Dex took her place. He sat with his back erect, his expression unusually serious, as he scanned the swimmers. A group of kids was taking turns cannonballing into the pool, aiming their jumps so that they’d land on one another. Dex blew on his whistle and told them to cut it out.

  The female lifeguard turned and walked back around the perimeter of the pool, in the opposite direction Dex had just come from. I guessed that this walk around the pool was required of both the incoming and outgoing lifeguards on each shift change. As she passed by me, the female lifeguard—who had ignored me when I came in—glanced curiously at me. Now that she knew I was Dex’s girlfriend, I clearly rated extra interest. I could also see, out of the corner of my eye, Felicity and Morgan gawking at me. A quick glance in Wendy’s direction let me know she wasn’t staring, but I was sure she’d taken note of how Dex had greeted me.

  Smiling to myself, I settled back on the chaise. But as the lingering effects of Dex’s kiss wore off, an entirely unwanted thought popped into my head: If I was this insecure about how girls were throwing themselves at Dex when we lived in the same town, what would it be like if I lived on an entirely different continent?

  Chapter Ten

  “I need your help,” I said to Hannah over the phone.

  “What?” she yelled so loudly, I had to hold the phone away from my ear. I could hear music blaring in the background on her end.

  “Where are you?”

  “A club,” Hannah said.

  I glanced at the clock. “But it’s only five. And anyway, I didn’t think you were old enough to get into clubs,” I said.

  “Fashion people don’t care about things like that here,” Hannah said, in a tone of bored indifference. “And it’s not like I’m drinking or anything.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “I need your help.”

  “Okay, but make it quick,” Hannah said.

  “I’m going to a party at the beach with Dex this evening, and I have no idea what to wear,” I said.

  Hannah’s tone became brisk and businesslike. “Okay, here’s what you need to do. Are you listening?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Go into my room,” Hannah said.

  “Okay.” I headed to Hannah’s room, the portable phone tucked under one ear. Her room was very girly—it had lilac-colored walls, a big canopy bed swathed with white tulle, and a vintage vanity table covered in makeup and perfume. “Now what?”

  “Go into my closet,” Hannah directed.

  I obligingly stepped into her enormous walk-in closet, which was crammed full of clothes, shoes, and handbags.

  “Do you see the rack with the dresses on it?” Hannah continued.

  “No,” I said, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff she owned. I turned around slowly in place. “Oh, wait, yes. It’s right here.”

  “Okay. In the very middle of that rack, there’s a red strapless Juicy Couture sundress. Do you see it?”

  I looked for the color red. It took me a few moments, but I finally saw a glimpse of it wedged between a Lilly Pulitzer pink sundress and a long green knit dress.

  “Are you still there?” Hannah asked in my ear.

  “Yes. I think I found it.” I pulled the hanger with the dress out and looked at the label. “Juicy Couture, right?”

  “That’s right. Wear that. It’ll be perfect,” Hannah said.

  I looked at the red dress uncertainly. It was definitely cute—strapless with a smocked bodice and a tiered ruffle skirt. I just wasn’t sure if it was the sort of dress a nonfashion girl like me could carry off. I lived in T-shirts and shorts.

  “Do you like it?” Hannah asked.

  “Isn’t it sort of bare?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just so short. And so strapless.”

  “That’s why it’s so perfect.”

  “I don’t know,” I said dubiously.

  “Trust me,” Hannah said. “You’ll look gorgeous. Look, I have to go.”

  “Wait! What shoes should I wear with it?”

  Hannah considered this. “Well, if you’re going to be at the beach, you don’t want to wear heels.”

  Since I didn’t own any high heels, this wasn’t really a problem.

  “You have flip-flops, right?” Hannah said.

  “Yea
h,” I said. “But they’re not nice. They’re just plain black plastic ones from Target.”

  “Those will be fine,” Hannah said confidently. “Once you’re on the beach, you can kick them off and go barefoot.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling a bit better. I still wasn’t sure if I could pull off the dress, but Hannah knew more about these things than I could ever hope to. If she said this was the right thing to wear, I had to trust her judgment.

  “I really have to go,” Hannah said. “See you Sunday!”

  “Bye. And, Hannah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks,” I said, meaning it.

  “No problem,” Hannah said.

  I smiled and turned off the phone. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible having a stepsister after all.

  When Dex pulled into the beach parking lot, it felt like the butterflies in my stomach had started to dive-bomb one another. What if Dex’s friends didn’t like me? What if I wasn’t the sort of girl they expected him to date?

  There were already a bunch of cars parked in the sandy lot, and as I climbed out of Dex’s car, I could see a knot of people gathered near the barbecues. The beach wasn’t visible—you had to walk up the boardwalk, which rose over a grass-covered dune—but there was a recreational area back by the parking lot, complete with a playground, basketball courts, a volleyball net, and picnic tables.

  “Ready to meet everyone?” Dex asked, extending a hand to me. He didn’t seem to have any clue how nervous I was.

  I took his hand in mine, and instantly felt better. “Sure,” I said, trying to sound confident.

  We walked over toward the group. They had one of the barbecues fired up and were cooking hot dogs over smoking coals.

  “Hey, Dex!” a few people called out. “Hey, man!”

  Dex bumped fists with a few of the guys—all of whom looked athletic and vaguely familiar—and introduced me, although their names almost instantly slipped from my memory. I guessed some of the guys were on Dex’s lacrosse team, and were vaguely familiar from the few games I’d watched at the end of the school year. They all smiled and said hello to me, and I began to feel my nerves loosen. I even saw a few people I knew, like Hannah’s friends Tiffany and Britt. They were pretty identical twins, who both had their long hair in braids.