Nerd Girl

by Jemma Bell

  “Fine, fine. I understand what you’re saying, but I just think you should dance the hell out of a sexy song. You’ve got the moves down and are going to be fantastic.”

  “Thanks, doll, but this is the one. You’ll be there to cheer me on, right? You know I can’t do this without you.” Layla’s love and support have been a balm to my broken heart these last few weeks.

  “Are you kidding? Riven and I will be sitting in the front row. You know damn well I’ll be the loudest spectator there. Don’t ask dumb questions.” Her statement makes me giggle just a bit. I do know she wouldn’t miss seeing me perform for the world. When they were handing out best friends, I won the lottery; when they were handing out boyfriends, I went bankrupt.

  “Thank you. Barb said she plans on closing the bookstore early so she can be there too.”

  “Ugh! Barb? Why did you have to go and invite her? The old bat just gets on my nerves.” Layla and Barb and their love/hate relationship. Barb thinks Layla is a bad influence on me and Layla has no patience for her judgement. She’s very much a what you see is what you get kind of person. Barb wishes Layla would tone down her abrasive attitude, and soften her edges. I’m not so sure Layla is capable of that, so the love/hate continues.

  “Layla, Barb is a friend and wants to show her support as well. Deal with it.”

  “Whatever you say, Jenks, just keep the old bat away from me,” Layla says, scrunching up her nose. I wish those two would learn to get along, it would make my life so much easier. I close up my laptop and carry it over, placing it on my desk. My room has under gone a few drastic changes lately and it appears that Layla has finally noticed. She’s sitting on my bed examining my bare walls. I had a little temper tantrum the day after “Hell Day,” as I refer to it and trashed all my posters of Derrick. I ripped them off the walls and tore them into confetti. It would be next to impossible to try and forget about him when he’s everywhere I looked. It was a very cathartic experience.

  “So, you’re finished with him?” She asks, her eyes are full of compassion. “Did you give him the opportunity to explain?” She asks and I huff out a frustrated breath.

  “What’s to explain? Am I supposed to sit there and listen to him tell me “nothing happened” or “it’s not what it looks like?” Continuing my rant I say, “Those phrases are the biggest lies in the world.”

  “I know, Jenks, but from everything Riven has told me about that day, it sounds like Derrick didn’t do anything with Mitzi. Riven agrees, Derrick was a complete asshat at the party, but he believes Derrick when he says he didn’t sleep with her.” I wish I could believe that I’m not the way that I used to be. The things that happened with Derrick have changed me. I’ve grown up; I’ve become a woman. I realize I deserve better than he gave me. Granted, I’m not drop dead gorgeous like Mitzi, but her arrogance and nasty attitude make her ugly on the inside. Me, I’m a book nerd who can look ok with lots of effort, but my soul is genuine and kind.

  “Even if he didn’t sleep with her, he still maintains a relationship with her and she’ll stop at nothing to get rid of me. Derrick needed to make a choice between me and her and he obviously chose her.” The more I rehash all this, the more upset I get. I can’t help it. Getting over my first love is easier said than done.

  “Have you ever considered just hearing him out?” Layla asks, giving me a hard look.

  “Nope! Why are you asking all these questions? Do you know something I don’t? I thought you were on my side.” Her questions are making me rethink my actions over the last few weeks. Should I have heard him out? Could I have gotten the wrong idea? Whatever. Actions speak louder than words and his actions were screaming that I don’t matter to him.

  “I’m just trying to make you think about things. What if he didn’t do what we think he did? Are you ready to throw him away over a misunderstanding?”

  “I can’t talk about this right now, I’m moving on. Once this competition is over I‘m looking for a job where I can put my degree to good use and find a nice guy who will treat me right.” Perhaps the more I tell myself these things, the more I’ll believe them.

  “As long as you’re sure that’s what you want.” Layla shook her head and gathered her things to head out. “I’m working tomorrow until six and then I’ll pick you up so we can go to Cara’s for one more practice.” Giving me a quick peck on the cheek, she clomps out of my room in her hot pink Docs. Clyde noses his way through the door and makes himself comfy in his blanket nest on my bed. I’ve been so busy and sad lately, I’m sure Clyde senses something is wrong with me. Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose and walking over to the bed, I climb on behind Clyde and snuggle into his back. He gives an annoyed grunt and we settle down together.

  “Oh, Clyde, you and Pops are the only men I can depend on. You’d never break my heart would you?” His answer is another annoyed grunt huff of breath. “I didn’t think you would. Why can’t I find a guy as loyal to me as you are?” Damn Layla and all her questions, now she’s got me second guessing my decision to avoid Derrick. Maybe I should have heard him out. His messages and texts have become more and more sporadic; maybe he’s getting over me. Since I refused to meet with him or respond, I guess I’ll never know.

  *** Derrick***

  I spent three days of the first week without Amy visiting my mom and kid sister back home. I needed to get away from everyone around me that thought I was an incredible asshole. Their negativity and the impulses I had to ambush Amy were making me crazy. I realize she needed time to get a clear head, so I removed myself from her orbit and left town for a few days. I’m not saying mom was proud of my actions; she set me straight as soon as I finished the fucked up story about what happened. She humbled me and made me see the error of my ways. Taryn Walker is a strong woman with impeccable values. Raising two kids on her own and completing nursing school, she’s someone I’ve always admired. We had long talks about where I want to go with my life and who I want to keep in it. Growing up, my mother always kept me on the straight and narrow. She asked me what I’ve been doing to try and make Amy listen. When I told her, I’d been blowing up Amy’s phone with voice mails and text messages, she told me to stop.

  “You have to let the girl breathe, son. She’s nursing a wounded heart.” I know mom, but so am I. I’m no angel and I’ve made some mistakes in my life, but I didn’t do this. I didn’t cheat on Amy. I never would. She’s the one. I knew it the first time we ran into each other. My mother talked me into giving Amy some time and suggested maybe once she calmed down then she’d talk to me. Man, I wish that were true. The three days I spent with Mom and Star were much needed. Star is already a stunning young woman at 17 years old. She is a lyrical and jazz dancer. Her dream is to dance on Broadway someday. If my work and connections can help make those dreams come true, then I’ve done right by her. It was a good visit and sent me home with a clear head.

  Upon returning home, I was met with a disappointed and aggravated Riven. The creep even took a swing at me. Good thing my reflexes are sharp. He would have busted my nose with that hit. We exchanged a few insults and then he reluctantly agreed to listen to my story. I told him what I remembered about that night and that I passed out in the bathroom after getting sick. He nearly busted a gut laughing when I told him I puked all over Mitzi’s expensive dress.

  “Serves the bitch right,” were his words.

  “Derrick, Amy is in bad shape, man. She’s been at Layla’s all week long and looks like hell.”

  “You’ve seen her?” I’m anxious for any information regarding Amy. I listened to my mother and reduced my messaging to once or twice a week.

  “I only caught a glimpse of her when I dropped off something for Layla.”

  “I’m going to give her some time and hope in a few days she’ll answer one of my messages.” There I go, hoping, because three days later I still hadn’t heard from her.

  On week two, she finally sent me something. When I checked my phone and saw that the message was from
her, I couldn’t open it fast enough. My heart was beating out of my chest and I was sweating. Finally something. But what I got was not what I was expecting.

  Amy: I need to say this and then please stop trying to contact me. Thank you for taking the chance on a relationship with me. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I will always cherish the memories we created together. Good luck with your career, I hope you knock them dead. Good bye, Derrick.

  No, no, no, she can’t mean that. It takes all my will power and Riven hiding my keys again, to keep me from going to her right then. I take my frustrations out on the walls, punching a hole in two of them, and peeling the skin off my knuckles. Riv talked me off the ledge and I agreed to give her more time. Even though, I feel like I can’t breathe without her and my heart stutters at the thought of never holding her in my arms again, I agree.

  As the days pass into weeks and the weeks pass into almost a month, I’ve only seen glimpses of Amy. I’ve seen her coming or going from the gym and even briefly watched her practice her routine for the upcoming pole dancing competition. We’ve also passed each other on the road a few times. She looks good, better than good. It’s unbelievable how quickly she looks like she’s bounced back from me. It makes me nervous. Maybe I was more into her than she was me. She was the most unlikely girl I ever thought I would fall in love with. She once told me “the nerd girl and the hunk, never going to happen.” Yeah, well, it did and she still owns my heart. She doesn’t know this, but I have every intention of secretly watching her compete. I’ll be there to cheer her on; she may not know it, but I’ll know I was there to support her. I have to leave town shortly after the competition to begin filming the commercials for Fitnexx. Once that is finished, I have every intention of getting my girl back. I don’t care what it takes. Pretty soon she’ll be mine again. Failure is not an option.

  Chapter #16

  Nerd Girl Problem #116

  Hear me roar. You’re never going to make a fool of me; I’ve already got that covered.

  “What in the world is this freaking thing?” I question Layla, as I dangle the miniscule piece of cloth from my finger.

  “That’s your costume for the competition,” She answers with a laugh. Laughing, yeah, real funny.

  “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m wearing this, this piece of nothing. I’ve seen handkerchiefs with more fabric.” No way! Never going to happen.

  “Jenks, the costume is perfect for your song and routine and once all is said and done, it can be your new bathing suit. You’re pole dancing, for shit’s sake; sexy comes with the territory.” She stands there glaring at me, hip cocked out, eye brow arched.

  “Layla, I don’t know. This…costume is...not enough coverage in my opinion.”

  “Shut up and go try it on! We’ll make that determination once I see what it looks like on you.”

  “Where the heck did you find this? Strippers Express?” I’d like to know that answer. With a deep huff, I acquiesce to her demand and head into the bathroom to try on the “costume.” It’s a rinky dink little thing that takes me about five minutes to figure out how to put on correctly. Once every lady bit I own is minimally covered and adjusted into this contraption, I stare at myself in the full length mirror. The black and orange tiger print looks great with my skin tone and hair coloring. It’s a complex one piece bathing suit that would look like a bikini if not for the two pieces of fabric stretching from the breast cups and connecting to the bottoms. The whole thing is secured in the back by string ties. My belly button is on display to the world and I am showing ample cleavage. Turning this way and that way, I scan my whole body and take in the seductive girl staring back. I almost can’t believe that’s me. Good thing I went back for another bikini wax last week. I have just enough time to jump back from the door as Layla knocks once and then barges in.

  “What the hell is taking you so lo-?” She stops mid rant and just gives me a full body scan. “Wow! Oh, Jenks, I did good. I did really good.” Her smile is so big, it reaches her eyes. “Turn around, let me see what it does for your ass,” she instructs and twirls her finger around. I comply and slowly turn around. I bring my hand to my lips and start chewing on a fingernail. This is all very nerve wracking. It’s one thing for me to wear something like this in front of Layla or the privacy of my bedroom, but it’s a whole other thing to wear it in front of a room full of people who will be staring at me. “Oh yes, yes that’s what you’re wearing. We’ll start off with you wearing khaki shorts and a button down shirt tied at your waist. Wear your glasses for the nerdy affect.”

  “Hey, my glasses are not nerdy looking, they’re studious.” I correct her.

  “Ok, whatever you say. Now let me finish.” Layla, did I aggravate you? I think to myself while I mentally stick my tongue out at her. “Start the routine in the shorts and shirt and, just before the chorus, yank off your top and tear away the shorts.” Layla coaches me while pretending to yank off her own shorts. “Oh, Jenks, it’s going to be so hot!”

  “Tear off the shorts? What am I, the Hulk, how the hell am I going to tear off the shorts?” The whole idea is preposterous.

  “Listen and learn, my young padawan. These handy dandy little things called snaps have been sewn into the sides of your shorts by yours truly.” Oh, well that makes sense. I guess she’s thought of everything. “You got this Jenks. You’re going to do great.” I sure hope she’s right.

  “Thanks for everything, Layla. I couldn’t have done all this or survived this past month without your friendship and support.” She closes the distance between us and squeezes all the air out of me.

  “Sure you could have. You’re just lucky you don’t have to. I love you, girl. You’re not my sister by blood, you’re my sister by choice and that’s a hell of a lot better.”

  “I love you, too. I can’t believe tonight is the competition. Do you think I’m ready? Am I going to make a fool of myself? I don’t need anyone to help with that; I’ve got it covered already.” Layla grasps my chin and stares me right in the eyes. Serious blues are clashing with unsure grays.

  “You listen and listen well. I’ve seen what you’re capable of; both when you’re on your game and when you’re a terrible klutz. I have every faith that you’ll knock them dead this evening and that’s the truth.” Just as I’m prepared to interrupt her, she pinches my lips together so I can’t say anything. What am I, a toddler? “But if you have a slip up, just try and play it off as part of the routine. A little comedy never hurt anyone. You might not win them over with sex appeal, but you just might with some humor.” Finally, she releases my pinched lips and lets me speak.

  “Ok, I’ll do my best to make you proud.”

  “Don’t have to, I already am. Now let’s start with your make-up. We only have three hours until the curtain drops.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny. Alright, drill sergeant, let’s do this.” Layla leaves me in the bathroom and comes back a few seconds later toting a huge square case full of cosmetics, a curling iron, and a basket full of hair products. Okie dokie, well if she feels she needs all that stuff to make me beautiful, who am I to question the professional? For the next two and half hours, I’m left to the ministrations of my friend and the result stuns me. I’m ready to compete. In the words of my BFF, “Let’s do this.”

  *****

  Well, it’s almost do or die time. I’m seventh in the lineup of 25 contestants, and number six is on her way to the pole. I glance around the large studio and see three sets of bleacher’s filled with people shoulder to shoulder. Sure enough, Layla and Riven are sitting front and center with Barb on the bench behind them. They’re all smiling and waving at me. Ah, my support system. It’s too bad GG and Pops can’t be here to show their support. I just figured watching their granddaughter dance on a pole, would be a little much for them. After all a man’s job is to keep his daughter or granddaughter off the pole, right?

  Cara neglected to tell me she advertised this contest with the local radio stations. The DJ and MC f
or the contest are well known for their popular morning show. A lot of the crowd was drawn for that reason and the large $5000 prize. So far, the first five girls that have competed are from my beginner class and another one is from the intermediate class. I guess Cara scheduled all of us newbies early so we could get it over and done with before we lose our nerve. As contestant number sixes’ song comes to a finish, I give myself an internal pep talk. I’ve been over this routine multiple times in the last few weeks. I know the song backward and forward and should have no issue going through the moves. The only thing that makes me doubt my ability is the large audience. I look out at Layla and she sees the uncertainty on my face, she makes a gesture with her two pointer fingers tracing her bottom lip on either side. It makes me smile because the gesture means turn your frown upside down.

  Nervously, I sit and wait for my name to be called. I’m so deep inside my head that I almost don’t hear the MC call my name. Mechanically, I stand up and walk out onto the floor. My hands are sweaty, so I rub some gripping powder on them and take my place next to the pole. My starting pose is in a squat, with my back to the pole, and both hands above my head. The music starts and I stiffly begin my moves around the pole. I’m still learning, but the moves I do know, I perform well. Just as Katy Perry sings the first chorus to “Roar,” I rip my khaki shorts off my body, tossing them into the crowd and yank off my glasses, dropping them to the floor. Completing a full fireman down the pole, I untie my shirt as I straddle it slipping the sleeves off each shoulder, teasing the crowd and toss it at some oblivious guy sitting in the bleachers. He sends me a flirty a wink. Clad only in my tiger print bathing suit, I swoop and twirl around the pole.