Revenge of the Geek

by Piper Banks

  Thankfully, Avery didn’t stay for dinner. When I arrived in the kitchen, Peyton and Hannah were seated at the table, while my dad stood at the counter, carving a deli rotisserie chicken.

  “Hi, honey,” Dad said.

  “Hi,” I said, taking my seat.

  “How was your day, Miranda?” Peyton asked.

  I was still having a hard time adjusting to this new Peyton. For most of the time I’d known her, she’d treated me with, at best, cold indifference and, at worst, outright hostility. But her lack of enthusiasm for my presence in the beach house had started to cause a strain in her marriage to my dad. So over the summer, he and Peyton began seeing a marriage counselor. It seemed to be doing them a lot of good—they weren’t fighting nearly as much as they used to—and Peyton had been making a real effort to be nicer to me. We’d probably never be close, but as long as we were stuck living together, it was nice to have the hostilities ratcheted down.

  “It was fine, thanks,” I said politely.

  “I was just telling Mom and Richard about my new Web site,” Hannah said. She shook her hair back and secured it into a ponytail with an elastic.

  “Is it up and running?” I asked.

  “It will be soon. Finn said he’d have it ready by the end of the week,” Hannah said.

  “How did you talk him into doing it for you?” I asked.

  “I just asked nicely,” Hannah said.

  “Hmph,” I said.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Finn doesn’t really know what it means to be nice,” I warned her. “You’d better double-check your Web site carefully once he’s done with it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d listed himself as the only eligible male for girls to date.”

  “I thought Finn was still dating Phoebe McCleod,” Hannah said.

  “He is. But even so, I wouldn’t put it past him,” I said.

  Dad brought the carved chicken to the table.

  “Dinner is served,” he said, settling the plate down with a flourish.

  Along with the chicken, there was pasta tossed with Parmesan cheese and broiled asparagus. I was starving, and loaded up my plate. Hannah rolled her eyes and took about half as much food as I had, while Peyton speared a single asparagus stalk and piece of chicken the size of a half-dollar onto her plate. Peyton almost never ate. This bizarre ability to survive without ever eating was one of the reasons I’d long suspected her of being supernaturally evil.

  “Peyton and I have an idea we want to run past you two,” Dad said, helping himself to a chicken leg.

  “What’s that?” Hannah asked.

  “We’ve never been on a family vacation, all four of us together. So we thought that maybe we could take a trip this fall. Maybe drive down to the Keys for a weekend,” Dad continued.

  “Okay. Fine with me,” Hannah said, shrugging.

  I was less sure. Even though Peyton had been much nicer to me lately—or, at least, much less hostile—the idea of going on vacation with her didn’t exactly thrill me. And I never really thought of Peyton as my family. But my dad looked anxiously over at me, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. I knew how important it was to him that we get along.

  “Sure. Sounds fun,” I said.

  And even though it was a lie, my dad’s bright smile made me think it was worth it. And who knew? Maybe five hours stuck in a car with Peyton would bring us closer together. It certainly wouldn’t kill me.

  I glanced over at my stepmother. She was pretending to nibble on the stalk of asparagus without actually letting it pass over her lips. Peyton felt the weight of my stare and she turned her cold, pale eyes on me. They narrowed with dislike.

  Yeesh, I thought, as a shiver passed over me. Or maybe five hours in the car together wouldn’t bring us closer. Maybe it would kill me.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’m not coming to lunch,” Charlie announced.

  We were standing at our lockers. I’d just stuffed my backpack into my locker and slammed the door shut behind it before any of the random stuff inside—books, notebooks, a spare sweater, a Frisbee that Finn had tossed to me in the hallway last year and I kept forgetting to give back to him—could fall out.

  “What do you mean, you’re not coming to lunch?” I asked, turning to her in surprise. Charlie’s cheeks were flushed, and she was rocking back and forth from her toes to her heels. Charlie was manic-depressive, and this sort of nervous energy was always a sign that she was entering into a manic phase. “You have to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Charlie said. “And I want to paint.”

  “You have an art period after lunch. Paint then,” I said.

  “No, I want to work straight through.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I had an epiphany last night,” Charlie announced. “At Grounded.”

  “You had an epiphany at the coffee shop?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “It just doesn’t seem like the sort of place you’d go to have a spiritual realization,” I said.

  “I didn’t go there in order to have a spiritual realization. I went there to have a decaf latte and do my physics homework,” Charlie said. “But then I ran into Finn.”

  “Really? He must have gone there straight from my house,” I said. “Funny he didn’t mention it. But, then, he was probably too busy scarfing down pizza. He had a large pepperoni pizza delivered to the beach house, and ate the whole thing himself.”

  Charlie looked at me. “Wait. Why was Finn ordering pizza to your house yesterday?”

  “He was there helping Hannah set up a Web site for her new matchmaking business. Don’t ask.”

  “No, I think I’m going to need more details about that,” Charlie said.

  “We’ll get back to it. First, tell me about your epiphany. And hurry. I’m starving,” I said.

  “Okay. So Finn came in and sat at my table, and we actually had a really good talk.”

  I gave a disbelieving snort. When Finn and Charlie were together, he tormented her and she insulted him. It was probably the main reason they’d never gotten together.

  “No, really. We actually talked. A real conversation. It was nice for a change,” Charlie said.

  I leaned against my locker. “What did you talk about? Did you tell him how you feel about him?”

  “Of course not,” Charlie said, dismissively waving one hand. “Finn was telling me about a book he’s been reading called The Art of War. It was written by some military genius two thousand years ago, and is apparently still the definitive treatise on battlefield strategies.”

  “I don’t think Finn should be allowed to read books on strategic warfare. It can’t lead to anything good,” I said.

  “I would normally agree, but it was actually really interesting. And Finn was so normal when he was talking to me about it. And I don’t even mean normal for him. I mean he was acting like a normal person in general. He even bought me a coffee, which he never does. It was almost like we were—” Charlie stopped abruptly and pressed her lips together.

  “It was almost like you were on a date?” I asked sympathetically.

  Charlie gave a half nod and a shrug, which I took as a big yes.

  “So, what happened?”

  “Phoebe showed up. She and Finn had plans, which he had, of course, neglected to tell me,” Charlie said. Her eyes darkened.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, patting her arm sympathetically.

  Charlie shrugged again. “When Phoebe saw Finn and me sitting there together, she came rushing over and made a big show of sitting on Finn’s lap and playing kissy face with him.” Charlie demonstrated, puckering her lips in a way that was more fishlike than kisslike. “The whole thing was so revolting, I had to leave immediately. Anyway, that’s when I had my epiphany.”

  “Which was?” I asked. My stomach gave a low rumble. I wished we were having this conversation over lunch—even a mediocre Geek High lunch—rather than standing in the school corridor.

  “Instead of
just sitting around waiting for Finn to realize that he has feelings for me, I should use the feelings I have for him in my artwork,” Charlie said. “I’m going to do a whole series of paintings fleshing out all of the pain and longing that’s caused by unrequited love. It’s going to be very modern, very ethereal, very Chagall-inspired. I’ve already sketched out the first one.”

  She reached into her bag, pulled out a sheet of paper, and thrust it at me. On it was a pencil-drawn sketch of a girl—at least, I think it was a girl; it was a tall figure with long hair blowing behind her—with her arms wrapped around a heart. Not a heart shape, but an actual heart with lots of valves. Behind the girl, in the far-off distance, a tidal wave was swelling.

  “Very cool,” I said, handing the drawing back. “Except for the heart. That’s kind of gross.”

  “I was going to do a heart shape, but that seemed too literal. I want it to be gritty, so I used a pig’s heart instead,” Charlie explained.

  “So is this girl supposed to be you?” I asked.

  “Not necessarily. She represents all intelligent women who are overlooked in favor of dimbos,” Charlie said. She hoisted her book bag over one shoulder. “Anyway, I have to go. I need to start painting while I’m feeling inspired.”

  “Good luck,” I said.

  Charlie flashed me a pained smile. “Thanks. Sorry I’m ditching you for lunch.”

  “No worries,” I said.

  Charlie hurried off in the direction of the art room. I watched her go, wondering whether her new obsession with unrequited love was something I should worry about, before deciding that it was probably a good thing for her to express herself. Even if it was with pictures of pig hearts.

  I headed toward the cafeteria, my spirits drooping a bit. Charlie and I always ate lunch together. Sure, I had other friends at school, and could definitely find someone to eat with. But it was always awkward to stand in the doorway of the cafeteria, looking around for a spare seat while feeling like a complete loser.

  “Hi, Miranda,” Nora said, suddenly appearing beside me. “Are you going to lunch?”

  “Yes,” I said. “You, too?”

  Nora nodded. “Do you mind if I eat with you?” she asked shyly.

  “Sounds great,” I said. I smiled at Nora. “Hey, I have the same top.”

  I hadn’t noticed Nora’s blue plaid halter top with white buttons down the front when we were in lit class. I’d bought the identical shirt at the Gap when Hannah took me back-to-school shopping. I hadn’t been at all sure about the shirt—halter tops made me nervous; it seemed like there were too many things that could go wrong with them—but when I’d worn it to school a few days earlier, I’d gotten lots of compliments on it. Even better, horrible Felicity Glen had given me the stink eye, which meant that it must have looked really good on me.

  “You do?” Nora asked.

  “Yep. The Gap, right?”

  “That’s right. We must have the same taste,” Nora said.

  “Or, more accurately, you and my stepsister have the same taste,” I said. “She’s the one who picked it out. Anyway, it looks cute on you. Although you should put on a cardigan, or you’re going to get busted on a dress-code violation.”

  Nora did look nice. She was wearing the shirt over a pair of crisp white shorts and navy blue grosgrain flip-flops. She looked much more like a Florida girl than she had on the first day of school, when she’d shown up in dark clothes and Doc Martens.

  “I have a cardigan in my bag,” Nora said. We stopped for a moment while she dug out the white cardigan and put it on. “What happens if you get a dress-code violation?”

  “Nothing really. Just a warning and a hassle about it from the headmaster,” I said.

  When we got to the cafeteria, Nora and I found a couple of empty seats at one of the corner tables. Platters of sandwiches, fruit salad, and peanut butter cookies were already out on the table.

  “It’s so weird that the food here is served this way,” Nora said, helping herself to a sandwich and a bunch of red grapes. “My old school had an actual cafeteria, with food that was spooned out onto plastic trays by grim women wearing hairnets.”

  “They have a whole theory behind it,” I explained. “Apparently, they think if they put the food out on the tables, family style, it will foster a sense of camaraderie among the students.”

  “That sounds totally bogus,” Nora said.

  “Yeah, I’m sure some school administrator just made it up. All it does is create a free-for-all with everyone trying to grab the best sandwiches,” I agreed.

  “I had fun yesterday hanging out at your house,” Nora said.

  “Me, too,” I said. After Nora and I had eaten the rest of our popcorn, we’d taken Willow on a long walk down the beach. Even though Nora still didn’t seem all that comfortable around Willow, she at least stopped flinching and gasping every time Willow sniffed in her direction. I kept assuring Nora that Willow was very gentle and not at all aggressive, and Nora had finally seemed more relaxed around my greyhound by the time we got back to the beach house.

  “And I think I’m going to take your advice and work on layout for The Ampersand,” Nora said.

  “Good! I know they’re always looking for people. And your experience will be a big plus,” I said.

  “Did you get any work done on your article?”

  “No. But I did talk to Dex about it, and he agreed to let me interview him. I just wanted some time to think about what questions I’m going to ask. Besides, some of his friends came in while we were talking, so Dex had to get off.”

  “That’s too bad,” Nora said sympathetically. “The long-distance-dating thing is so hard.”

  “Did you talk to Marcus last night?” I asked.

  Nora nodded. “He wasn’t very talkative, though. I couldn’t tell if he was just feeling quiet or if he was actually upset about something. It’s so hard not being there and seeing him in person.”

  “Have you tried talking to him on Skype?” I asked. “That way you could at least see him. That’s how Dex and I talk most of the time.”

  “Marcus doesn’t have a computer,” Nora said.

  “Really?” I asked. This surprised me. Everyone I knew had a computer. In fact, laptops were mandatory for all Geek High students. Then I remembered what Nora had said about Marcus being poor, and that was at least part of the reason why her mother was against their relationship. “Maybe he could use one at school or borrow a friend’s?”

  “Maybe,” Nora said, with a shrug. She didn’t seem all that keen on the idea, so I decided to drop it.

  “Did you ask him if he was upset about something?” I asked instead.

  “Yeah. He said he wasn’t. But who knows? I’m so far away, I can’t tell what’s really going on with him,” Nora said. She sighed and dropped her half-eaten ham sandwich on her plate. I didn’t blame her—lunch was especially bad that day. The sandwiches tasted as if they were about two weeks old, and the apple slices were mealy and covered with brown spots.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. Dex has this whole other life up at his school that I’ll never be part of,” I said, pushing aside my plate. “And it’s good that he has a life there—I want him to—but at the same time, it makes me feel even farther away from him.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I feel bad sometimes, because I want Marcus to be happy, of course . . . but I also sort of want him to be miserable, too, because I’m not there. You know?”

  “Yes!” I said, nodding. “In fact, just the other day, Dex was feeling homesick, and said that he was thinking about transferring back to Orange Cove High. And even though I knew it wouldn’t be the right thing to do—this school is such a great opportunity for him, and he really hasn’t been there long enough to give up on it—I couldn’t help feeling a little ...” I trailed off.

  “Happy that he was unhappy?” Nora suggested.

  I nodded, feeling guilty admitting it. “That’s pretty awful, isn’t it?”

  “No, n
ot at all. I totally understand. I feel the same way.”

  “You do?” I asked. It was such a relief to have someone to talk to about this. Someone who knew exactly what I was going through. Not even Charlie or Hannah would get it, since neither of them had ever had a long-distance relationship. Charlie would probably tell me that I had to trust Dex, and Hannah would give me terrible advice about how I should try to make Dex jealous to keep him interested. But Nora knew what it was really like. She understood where I was coming from.

  “What do people do on dates around here?” Nora asked. She smiled wryly. “Or, should I say, what did you do when Dex was still here?”

  “The usual stuff. Movies, dinner, going to the beach,” I said. “Is that what you did in Boston?”

  “Pretty much, minus going to the beach. Is there someplace cool to hang out around here?” Nora asked.

  She spent the rest of lunch asking me a lot of questions about Geek High and life in Orange Cove, and who my friends were, and what various kids at school were like. After what seemed like the hundredth question, I finally laughed.

  “I can tell you were a reporter. I feel like I’m being interviewed,” I said.

  Nora blushed, and looked down at the table.

  “Sorry. I guess I’ve been asking too many questions,” she said sheepishly.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said, realizing that I shouldn’t tease Nora the way I would Charlie or Finn. She was so shy.

  “I just ...” Nora began, but then stopped, and blushed an even deeper shade of red. In fact, she flushed right down her neck and into the V of her plaid halter top.

  “You want to fit in?” I suggested. She nodded. “Yeah, I totally get that. Don’t worry. Ask me whatever you want.”