Romancing the Nerd (13 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Dan

It’s six a.m. when effyeah and I end the chat, so I forego sleep. Yeah, I’m exhausted, but it’s that weird sort of exhausted where I feel delirious and like I could still do something. I head downstairs, looking for munchies. I’m sitting on the couch watching some early Sunday morning news program when my phone rings. The number pops up with no name. Normally I wouldn’t answer, but it’s local.

“Hello?”

“Hey, dude. I didn’t think you’d be up.” Donovan doesn’t sound like his regular self. He sounds, I don’t know, calm? Quiet? It’s strange.

I didn’t even realize he had my number. “Donovan? Why’d you call?”

He lets out a deep breath. “I just… I wanted to say thanks.”

I’m shocked. I’m speechless. I’m living an M. Night Shyamalan movie. “Uh… What for?”

“Last night. You saved my ass. If I would’ve gotten arrested, my dad would’ve… Well, anyway, just thanks.”

I’m not sure what to say next. I’m not his therapist, but I’m not a horrible person, either. “Your dad can be pretty intense, I take it.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of an asshole. I’m just trying to ride it out, ya know. It’s just me and him, so once I finish high school I’m so out of here.”

It’s really strange feeling sorry for him. “That sucks, dude. What’s your plan for after graduation?”

“I don’t know. It’d be great to get a scholarship, but I’m not that smart, obviously.”

“What about with basketball? You’re the best player on the team.” Did I just compliment Douchebag Donovan? Talk about a life plot twist.

“That could work, but when do scouts ever come to our games? I don’t think that’s ever happened, like ever.”

I remember what Taxidermy Todd said about getting scouts to come to our games. Maybe I need to smooth things out with Dad. And all to help one of the people I’ve really disliked for a long time. “You never know. I’ve recently learned that life can surprise you.”

“Anyway, what was up with you and that Zelda girl last night? I saw y’all together when the cops showed up.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I thought she was kind of lame before, but you seem to be cool with her, so maybe she’s not all bad. Do you think I should, like, apologize to her or something? Because I called her Mrs. Potato Head?”

Doth my ears deceive me? His words aren’t eloquent at all, but he sounds sincere.

“Dude, that’s really considerate of you. But you do realize that even if I wasn’t ‘cool with her’ as you put, you shouldn’t treat people like that.”

“Come on, man, I was just having a little fun.”

“That is not called fun, that’s called bullying. It’s mean and it hurts. You do get that, right?” I feel like I’m talking to a child.

He’s quiet for a minute and I can practically hear his brain gears turning through the phone. “Guess I never thought of it like that.”

I’m so confused. When did Douchebag Donovan become personal-growth Donovan? Did nobody ever explain this to him? Well, that’s a parent’s job and his parent doesn’t sound like he’s going to be winning any Father of the Year awards any time soon. Maybe the reason he acts like he does sometimes is all due to circumstance.

Huh. It’s true what they say—you learn something new every day.

I try to think more on this, but my brain is having none of it. “Okay, well, you’re welcome for last night. I gotta go, though.”

“Cool. Later, dude.”

I hang up, and I’m so done with being conscious. I’m out the second I fall face first onto my bed.

A little while later, I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes. “Wipoo, what are you doing in here?” I ask the giant bear sitting cross-legged at the end of my bed.

He opens the pizza box next to him and holds out a slice to me. “Want some ant pizza?”

“No, thanks.”

He shrugs, his fur rustling, and sniffs at the pizza that’s crawling with busy, shiny black ants. “Suit yourself,” he says, then swallows the entire piece whole, licking his claws afterward, one by one.

“Is Taxidermy Todd home yet?” I ask.

He perks his ears, listening, then shakes his head. “No, the evil bastard is still gone.”

I guess most people might be freaking out if this were their dream, but not me. I’ve been talking to animals in my dreams since I was a kid. I think most people would, too, if they grew up around so many inanimate deer heads and squirrels and bears. They started out as nightmares, naturally, but that didn’t last long. Thank God. By the time I was six, Mom said she was at the end of her rope. She told me that if I had woken up screaming one more time she was going to insist Dad find a new line of work. And if that would have happened we wouldn’t be living the life we do today. Then again, I’m not sure if that would’ve been so bad.

“You know what we say about calling him that, Wipoo,” I scold the bear.

He waves me off with his big paw. “I know, I know. It’s not his fault, it’s the guy with the gun who put me here.”

“Exactly. So, how’s it hangin’?”

Wipoo gives me a contented nod. “Pretty good. That was a great party last night.”

“Oh yeah? You liked that? Have a good time?” Yes, I know there wasn’t a six-foot-tall stuffed bear literally with me at the party, but he does travel everywhere with me in my head.

His laugh rattles the walls. Have you ever heard a bear laugh? It’s loud and deep and always genuine. “I saw some pretty girls.” He grins, showing off his mouth full of sharp teeth.

“Niiiice.” I slap his shoulder hard. “But don’t expect that to be a regular occurrence, my man.”

“Aw, but it was fun. Why no more?”

Bob the Bass crawls up onto the bed then, shoving the pizza box off. He crosses his fins to mimic Wipoo’s pose.

“Because,” I say, “parties are just not my thing. This was an exception, since it was partly Logan’s, but the only other ones I’m invited to are full of all those fake, superficial people.”

Bob slaps Wipoo’s leg and makes some wet bubbling sounds at him.

Wipoo nods in agreement then turns to me. “Bob’s right. That Donovan guy seemed all right.”

“Yeah, that was weird. It was like he didn’t even know that hurting people’s feelings actually, ya know, hurt. That kid’s home life must be pretty messed up.”

Wipoo points a claw at me. “Well, there you go.”

“There what goes?”

He and Bob share an exasperated look, then Bob starts gurgling furiously at me. When he’s done, I turn to Wipoo, waiting for translation. “It’s not your place to judge people. Instead, try to understand them, put yourself in their place. Every person has his or her own story, and it’s your job to listen to it.”

Zelda

After my chat with Dan is over, I only sleep for a few hours. When I wake up, he pops right back into my head. It’s a weird feeling not being mad at him. My brain is having trouble processing it. Maybe that’s why it churns up another reason. He still told Martin about how I feel about sex, and the way he said it was so mean. “There’s no satisfaction to be had there.” What the hell? That was my business, and he had no right to tell anyone else.

By the time Monday morning rolls around, I’m back in despise-Dan mode. I’m no longer fearing telling him the truth about FinityGirl, I’m looking forward to it.

I get to school and pass Dan on the way to my locker. He stops like he wants to talk to me but I just keep going, leaving him standing there with his mouth half open.

When I’m done with my locker, I head toward first period, but I hear him call my name. I don’t even acknowledge him. I keep walking, but if Dan is anything, he’s persistent. I quicken my steps and so does he. Soon, it turns into a chase. I’m trying to work out a way to my class in my head, but all solutions start with turning around. I turn left into the first open door I come to, which is the hall in front of the locker rooms. I whip behind the door and listen for footsteps for a minute before finally relaxing. I come out from behind the door and slide down the wall, catching my breath.

As much as I’m looking forward to the look on Dan’s face when I tell him the truth, I haven’t had time to figure out the perfect speech.

The hall darkens a bit and I look up to see Dan’s silhouette in the entrance. Damn it, looks like I won’t get that time I so desperately want. Now I have another thing to be pissed at him about. He made me run and I didn’t even get away.

He sits next to me, our thighs touching, and I refuse to feel the spark that travels down my leg. “Okay,” he says, “Um…why?”

“I don’t want to talk to you. Just leave me alone.”

“What did I do now? Is it because of Christmas Festival? I said I was sorry. Seriously, that was a random, crazy thing and I’m sorry, okay?”

I let out a huff. “No, it’s not about that. It’s…” I’m about to say the word “nothing” but it’s not nothing. This is important to me. And I’m tired of not being honest. Screw the big speech. “Fine, here it is. A while back, I overheard you say something.”

He raises an eyebrow, and one side of his mouth quirks up. “Oh really?”

“Yeah.” I tell him what I heard and I’m sure my tone and sneer convey that I’m not pleased about it.

His brows knit together. “Who was I talking to again?”

I shrug. “Martin. But that’s not important. What’s important is what an assh—”

He doesn’t let me finish. “Wait! I remember now. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Does it matter? Would you have even cared? I don’t think so.”

“Of course I care. Did you ever think that maybe I said that because I was protecting you? Because he didn’t and still doesn’t deserve you?”

I scoff. “A likely story.”

“Honest.” He puts a hand over his heart. “Bring me a copy of
The Hobbit
, I’ll swear on it.”

I stand and grab my stuff. I should say something, but I don’t know how to respond. He looks up at me, waiting, and something breaks in my head. I just don’t know how to deal with this revelation because despite hating him for a long time, I believe him.

I turn and bolt. I hear him call my name a few times, but I don’t turn around.

I thought my good feelings about him were just a blip. I thought things were back to normal. Then he had to go and say he was protecting me. What am I supposed to do with that? I’ve been so caught up in getting revenge. Revenge for what, though? I don’t even know the answer to that anymore. This all started out as a way to get back at him for the basketball thing, the LARP abandonment thing, and what he said about me, but I realize now that one was an accident, one wasn’t something to hold a grudge about, and the other was a misunderstanding.

For the next three days, I don’t have to try too hard to avoid Dan. He’s actually giving me space, which should make me happy, but I’m worried instead. Thursday night, as I’m getting ready for
The Super Ones
premiere, I still haven’t figured it out. I’m tired of my thoughts going in circles, so I look at Beth in the vanity mirror we’re sharing. “I think I’ve screwed up.”

“Eek, I think you’re right. This wig is not sitting right at all.” She yanks at the hair, trying to get it straight.

“No, not the wig, with Dan. I’ve screwed up with Dan.”

Cara, who’s been ironing Beth’s cape because Beth slept in it last night, comes up behind me. “Tell us about it, Zelda.”

So I do just that. I tell them about how I’d built him up to be this villain in my head and how he isn’t that at all. How I feel like if I was wrong about Dan, what else have I been wrong about? Ya know, all that life evaluation stuff.

I also tell them about my fears. “And what if he asks my online identity to meet or video chat? There’s no way that’s going to happen, so he’ll probably never talk to me again. At least, not like that anymore. He might talk to
me
me—that’s doubtful, though—but not to other-me. He’s different with other-me. He’s more honest. He listens. I’ll lose all that.”

Beth leans against the vanity, arms crossed. “Okay, question number one: why would you two meeting never happen?”

“Because I’d never agree to it, of course. I thought I was ready to own up to everything, but now I’m not so sure. If he found out it was
me
me he’s been talking to all this time, I’d lose him for sure. At least with maybe putting off a meeting, or just saying I don’t want to, there’s a chance he won’t ditch me. A slim one, but still a chance.”

Cara shakes her head. “If he does that, ditches you because of who you actually are, then he’s not worth it. But I think there’s a huge chance he won’t do that. Either way, you’ll have your self-respect. By telling him the truth, you’ll be owning who you are—which is an amazing person, by the way—and you’ll be taking a chance, reaching for what you think is unreachable. And that is a brave thing to do.”

My lady crush for Cara cannot be contained any longer, so I hug her super-tight.

“Yes, my dear sister is all kinds of right,” says Beth. “So, it’s settled. If he asks for a meeting, you agree. Now, let’s suit up!”

As I slip on my black leggings, I realize that this is exactly what I need right now. Becoming someone else, someone who’s strong and self-reliant, is exhilarating. My worries melt away when I put on Finity Girl’s red leotard and satin black mini-skirt. The red mask over my eyes is the best part. I
am
Finity Girl now.

With my pity party solidly behind me, at least for the night, I get in my mom’s car and drive toward the theater. The Parkway Cinema is not a big theater, but it gets the job done for a small town like Natchitoches. We even have two 3D screens. Beth, Cara, and I are some of the first to get in line. Beth looks perfect as the Bright Frenzy, with her tall, fuchsia boots and matching cape that almost reaches the ground.

As more people show up, we get asked to take pictures with them or we get questions about how we made our costumes. I’ve never had more fun. There is nothing better than geeking out with someone, not to mention an entire line of them. It makes me feel part of something special, which hardly ever happens. At this moment, I’m not that “weird girl.” I’m a member of a community. A community, I might add, that knows how to have fun.