Smart Boys & Fast Girls (A Girlfriend's Guide to Boys)

by Stephanie Rowe

  "Anytime," he said. "I live in this end of town, so it was convenient. Let me know if you need a ride again."

  Hoo, yeah. How about every day?

  No, I was supposed to be cool. Besides, I'd already changed too quickly and I didn't worry enough about my hair, so he totally wasn't hitting on me.

  Yet.

  I was definitely going to have to change that. After all, he'd noticed I was alive, right? It was a good start.

  CHAPTER THREE

  My parents left four minutes before Matt arrived. Four minutes! I was panicking! My mom hadn't been able to find her favorite pearl earrings, and I'd gone on a mad search to locate them. My dad was making phone calls, and my mom was moaning and groaning as the minutes ticked past.

  Thank heavens I was there to straighten them out. I found the earrings, rounded them up and herded them out the door.

  I was still standing on the front step when Matt rode up the driveway on his bike. He was wearing a bike helmet, had a strap around his left pant leg to keep his jeans from snagging on the chain, and he had his backpack over both shoulders.

  He was definitely a little bit nerdy.

  He coasted to a stop in front of me. "Waiting for me?"

  Ack! So uncool to be caught waiting for him, especially since I wasn't! "No. My parents just left so I was out here watching them drive away..." Crud. How stupid did that sound? Why did I feel like I was saying the wrong things with every guy in my life? All I wanted was to sound normal, and I was getting it wrong. Zach probably already had me in the friend camp, and Matt thought I was an elitist idiot. Two thumbs up for me. Not.

  He flipped his leg over his bike. "You always watch your parents leave?"

  Ugh. See? I was a complete dork. "No. I never watch them drive off." Yeah, that was a witty comeback. Point for Natalie. Hah.

  He raised his brows, but obviously decided it wasn't worth trying to engage me in any kind of coherent conversation. "Can I bring my bike inside? I don't want to leave it outside."

  I looked around at my quiet little street. "This isn't a bad neighborhood."

  He tightened his grip on the handlebars. "It's my only bike."

  Wow. Okay, so he liked his bike. That was almost sort of cute, in a geeky kind of way. "Okay, sure." I held the door open for him while he wheeled the bike inside, catching a whiff of something that smelled good. Aftershave? He was only fifteen. Surely he didn't shave. Cologne? It was so faint, it was difficult to tell. All I knew was that I liked it. Weird to be liking the smell of Matt. He was my tutor, not some hottie.

  "Where to?" He leaned the bike carefully against the wall of the front hall, making sure not to get black marks on the white paint. I was actually kind of impressed with how careful he was being. Most guys I knew were about getting dirtier and sweatier instead of keeping it contained. Was Matt neater than I was? He might be. Wow. I wasn't even girly enough for Matt either? "Should we study in the kitchen?" he asked.

  "Kitchen?" I echoed blankly. I was so distracted by how much of a sub-performer I was on the girl front, that it took me a second to actually remember what a kitchen was. "Oh, right, sure." I led the way to the kitchen.

  I couldn't believe I was about to be tutored. Here I was on the verge of a social crisis, in desperate need of advice from my friends on how to be girly, and I was stuck with Matt, learning geometry. And I was going to do this every day for the entire semester?

  No way. I'd never survive. I needed to stop the slide, and to stop it fast.

  The only option was to prove to Matt and Ms. Olsen that I didn't need a tutor. No problem. I didn't need one anyway, right?

  While Matt pulled books out of his backpack, I retrieved mine from the family room, where I'd dumped my bag unopened when I got home. I carried my math book and a notebook back into the kitchen. "How long is this going to take?"

  He started flipping open cabinets until he found the glasses, then grabbed one. "As long as it takes. I already did the rest of my homework, so I have all night."

  I nearly dropped my book. It was only seven and he'd already done all his homework? Was he kidding? I hadn't even unzipped my bag, let alone figured out what I had to do. "Yeah, me too."

  "Good." He opened the fridge and pulled out a can of root beer. Tossed some ice in the glass, grabbed the cookie tin from the counter and then brought it all over to the table.

  "Help yourself," I said. Nice manners, dude. I was already sensitive enough about him being there; it felt weird to have him acting like he owned my house. I didn't like it. I wanted my space back.

  He held up a cookie for me. "I don't expect you to wait on me. I'm here to help you, not have you serve me."

  Oh. When he put it that way, it was sort of okay. I guess. Thoughtful, even. Wasn't it? He was totally confusing me.

  He nodded. "Sit."

  I sat. Not because I would do what he said, but because I felt like sitting and his suggestion had coincided with my desire to sit. So there.

  He pulled out his assignment notebook, then started flipping through his book. I sat there until he shot a meaningful look at my book. Then I immediately opened mine. Duh. What was my problem? My brain had stopped functioning merely because I was in the presence of a smart boy? Get it together, Natalie.

  I opened to the assignment and read the first problem. It made no sense whatsoever.

  Matt scooted his chair around the table so he was sitting next to me. "Why don't you start working on it, and I'll watch you. It'll help me figure out where you are."

  Start? But the problem made no sense. "Um—"

  He picked up a pencil and held it out. "You'll need this."

  "Thanks." I felt sweat beading on my forehead. It was one thing not to have any idea how to answer the problems when I was alone and no one had to know how stupid I was. But to look totally brainless in front of someone else? Especially a guy who was in my class? Forget it!

  I threw down the pencil. "I'm hungry. I think I'll make a sandwich. Want one?"

  He grabbed my wrist as I started to push my chair back. "I'm here to work, not sit around while you procrastinate. It's fine if you do that on your own time, but I have too much to do to waste time while you fart around."

  Okay, my humiliation had reached new levels. "You're a study geek."

  "Yep. And you appear to be a stereotypical dumb jock. I'm being paid to help you. So sit down." His eyes were flashing, and I knew he hadn't appreciated the geek comment.

  "I'm not a dumb jock." I sat back down and folded my arms across my chest.

  He handed me the pencil. "Prove it." He grinned. "A little geometry humor."

  I rolled my eyes. "So not funny."

  His smile faded. "No matter how hard you try, you're not getting rid of me. I want Ms. Olsen to hire me next summer to work on a research project, and this is my chance to impress her. So you're stuck with me, and I will make you pass this class."

  Great. So he had incentive to stalk me with a math book for the rest of the semester. Unless I could get straight A's right away; then there'd be no need for him. I grabbed the pencil. "Fine. Watch this." I read the problem again.

  And then again.

  Then I drew my proof table.

  Then I read it again. Um...

  "You don't know where to begin?"

  "Of course I do," I snapped. "I'm thinking."

  "Ah." He totally didn't believe me. Too smart, I guess.

  I decided I hated smart guys. "Okay, fine. I don't know where to start."

  "Really?" He looked so surprised I wanted to punch him.

  "Are you being paid to make me feel stupid, too?"

  He had the grace to look embarrassed. "No, sorry. It's no problem. This stuff is hard." He leaned closer so his shoulder was touching mine. "Okay, so let's start at the beginning."

  Good. The beginning. Sounded like a good place to start.

  He pointed to the page. "See this? What do you make of this?"

  I frowned. "It's a triangle. And some extra lines pointing
out."

  He lifted a brow. "What kind of triangle?"

  "With three sides." I was starting to sweat now. He was totally going to know I had no idea what I was doing. That I was stupid.

  He pulled back and looked at me. "Are you being intentionally difficult or do you really not know?"

  I suddenly felt like crying. "Why do you keep doing that? So I'm dumb. So I don't understand. There, are you happy now? I admitted it. Shut up and leave me alone."

  Matt leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. "Listen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel stupid. I have to find out exactly how much you understand so I know where to start." He cleared his throat. "With your... um ... attitude earlier, I thought maybe you were being intentionally difficult."

  I wiped a traitorous tear off my cheek. "Well, I'm not. I'm stupid. Okay? Happy? You're smarter than me. I don't understand this at all and I hate it and I hate having to think about it because I can't do it!"

  Matt shifted in his chair and looked like he'd rather be getting a cavity filled than sitting here with me. Good. I hoped he was suffering. I'd make him earn his seven bucks an hour. "Um ... so how about if I start by explaining some basic concepts?"

  "Basic? I might not be able to understand them." I blinked hard and ordered my tears away.

  "Sure you can." He pulled the book closer to him and flipped to the start of the chapter. "I'm a great tutor."

  "With a big ego."

  He shrugged. "You should be glad you got me. I'm good." He scanned the page for a couple seconds, no doubt doing some speed reading of this very basic stuff. "Okay, you ready?"

  I nodded, and felt a little glimmer of hope. If he was a great tutor, then maybe he could help me. "Um ... Matt?"

  "Yeah?" He jotted some notes down on his paper.

  "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

  He looked up, and I noticed he had really blue eyes. "Tell anyone what?"

  "That you're tutoring me?"

  He cocked his head. "You want to keep it a secret?"

  "No, I don't care." I hesitated. "I mean, yeah. If my parents knew I was being tutored, they'd pull me off the team."

  "We wouldn't want that, would we?"

  I gave him my best annoyed look. "No, 'we' wouldn't." I decided not to go into how my social life depended on not being known as so stupid that I needed a tutor.

  He shrugged. "It's not interesting enough for me to discuss with other people."

  Ouch. Total slam. "Good." But at least I'd gotten the desired result. A promise of silence.

  "Is that it?"

  How could he sound so disdainful of everything not related to a burning need to learn? "Yeah."

  He continued to look at me. "You're putting up with the tutoring thing so you can stay on the team? Not because you care about your grades or anything?"

  "Exactly. Running is so important to me..." My voice faded at the look on his face. "What?"

  "Good to know your motivation." He didn't sound like he was impressed with it.

  "Hey, Matt. Not everyone is obsessed with school and grades like you are."

  "Your loss." He nodded at the book. "You ready to focus? We have a lot to go over."

  I felt my chest tighten again at the thought of tackling geometry. I hated it. Hated it, hated it, hated it. Because I couldn't do it. Not at all.

  He lifted his brow. "You look sick."

  "Thanks." I took a deep breath. "I'm fine. Let's start." Think of running. Think of Zach. Think of Valerie and her cool friends. It's all worth it.

  "You sure? I don't want you to puke on me."

  I laughed at the comical look of horror on his face. "I'm not going to puke. I save that for after hard races."

  His look of horror intensified. "Seriously?"

  "Yeah."

  "And you like this sport?"

  "Well, I don't particularly enjoy the puking part, but yeah, I like the sport."

  He shook his head. "Remind me not to go watch a race. Seeing a bunch of kids spilling their guts isn't high on my list of fun activities."

  Such a geek. "I suppose you avoid sweat too."

  "I ride a bike everywhere."

  Yeah, good point. Still a geek. "So are you going to help me or what?"

  "Yeah." He pulled the book over and pointed to a list of words. "We're going to go over each of these terms until you understand them, okay? And you have to stop me if you start to feel lost. It serves no purpose if you pretend you understand and you don't. Got it?"

  I lifted a brow at the perfunctory recital. "You've given that speech before, huh?"

  "Every time," he said. "Doesn't usually work, but I'm serious. If you don't know what the heck I'm talking about, tell me. Okay?"

  "You already know how dumb I am, so I guess there's no point in hiding it, huh?" I laughed weakly to hide my discomfort.

  "Exactly."

  Jerk. That was his perfect opportunity to tell me that no, I wasn't actually stupid. I was merely geometry-challenged. But he'd agreed with me. Hello? That was not one of the times I'd wanted to be right.

  He pointed to the first word on the list. "Obtuse angle. Tell me what you can about obtuse angles."

  Nothing. I knew nothing about obtuse angles. I did know that Matt seemed intent on proving just how stupid I was. So good to know we agreed on something.

  Then Matt started to talk, and I was stunned to realize I could understand what he was talking about. Was there hope? Suddenly, I thought there was. And that's when I put down my pencil and I really started to listen.

  * * *

  I was concentrating so hard that I didn't even hear my parents walk into the house.

  "Natalie! Who's this?" My mom's voice ripped through my math-fog.

  My head snapped up, and I stared at them blankly, trying to wrap my head around the fact that they were home, and I was still studying with Matt. "You're home already?"

  "It's ten-thirty." My mom was looking intently at Matt, no doubt trying to figure out if she'd seen him at races before. "Who do you have here, Natalie?"

  Matt cursed under his breath. "Ten-thirty? I gotta get home." He leapt to his feet and grabbed his backpack off the floor.

  My dad leaned casually against the doorframe, blocking Matt's exit. "What's going on here?" His voice was casual, but it was a total lie. He was big time onto us. "Who is this?"

  Oh, no. How was I going to explain Matt? Our books were open, and there were notes sprawled all across the table. It was totally obvious we'd been studying. "Um, this is Matt Turner."

  Matt shook my parents' hands, politely, then continued to shove stuff into his backpack, muttering about how he was going to be late.

  "You two were studying?" My mom sounded completely skeptical. Of course she would be. I never studied. I also never dated boys, so I'm sure she was confused. If I wasn't studying, and I wasn't sneaking a boy in here so we could make out, what in heaven's name was I doing with a boy?

  Matt looked up as he swung the backpack over his shoulder. "Yes, I'm her..."

  "Boyfriend!" I shouted and jumped to my feet. "Matt's my new boyfriend."

  His mouth dropped open and he gaped at me.

  Oh, crud. He was totally going to blow my lie, wasn't he? I grabbed his arm and shot him my most pleading look. I'll do anything for you, I mentally promised him, hoping he was psychic. Please go along with this. I grabbed his bike helmet and pushed it at him. "You have to be going. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

  "Natalie…" His voice dripped with warning.

  "Tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for studying with me." I practically carried him and his bike out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

  I leaned back against the door for a moment, trying to collect myself. I was in such trouble with Matt tomorrow. I knew he was pissed about the boyfriend thing, and that totally bummed me out. Was I such a loser that even a geek would be horrified at being linked socially with me?

  Then my parents walked into the
front hall and I knew I was in trouble with them, too. They were looking super serious and standing close to each other, like they always did when they were going to be mad at me. It was like they wanted me to know that they were both in agreement that I needed to be in trouble, and there was no point in trying to go around one of them to get a different answer from the other.

  I knew they weren't buying my story. I'm sure they could smell tutor dripping from every pore of my desperate body. "Um ..."

  "Why didn't you tell us you had a boyfriend?" my dad demanded.

  I blinked. They believed me? "Um ... because we just started dating."

  My parents exchanged glances and I crossed my fingers behind my back. Please, please, please believe that he's my boyfriend.

  It was my mom who spoke for them. "We're not comfortable with the two of you being in the house without a chaperone."

  I nearly laughed. As if Matt was going to try to kiss me! "I understand."

  "And we're very bothered by the fact that you didn't tell us he was coming over," my dad added.

  Uh-oh. I sensed an ultimatum coming on. What if they banned me from dating him? Then how was I going to explain it if I continued to hang out with him? Think, Natalie, think. "He's a straight-A student."

  My mom lifted her eyebrows. "Really?"

  "Yeah, he's a major math geek."

  My dad was a physics professor at a local university, and my mom was an ex-accountant who now owned a successful chain of beauty salons. They would totally love it if I dated a guy who was a math and science nerd and got good grades. The perfect child they'd never had.

  "He's a science geek too," I added. "Did I mention straight A's?"

  My parents looked really interested now. They'd always been concerned that I'd shown far more aptitude and interest in sports than school, so they had to be thinking that maybe Matt would be a good influence on me. "And he isn't into sports at all. Thinks they're dumb, actually."

  They looked at each other and did some sort of silent communication. Then my mom looked at me. "Why don't you invite him to dinner so we can get to know him?"