How to Date a Nerd (15 page)

I gulp and give him the only answer I have. “I drank. A lot.”

“And kissing me just now. Was that some kind of side effect?”

I shrug as waves of stupidity roll over me. “T-that’s not why… I-I mean I didn’t mean to… It just sort of happened.”

“Like before? It just happened and then you…”

He pauses for a second, and I shift on the floor to my knees in case I need to bolt from the room crying.

“Look,” he says, his voice softening, “my dad left when I was thirteen. My mom was a mess, and she used work to help her escape it all. I only had one thing.” He pulls me up from the floor. “You.”

My heart thumps an extra beat as his eyes meet mine, and he drops my hand.

“You took my mind off everything. Playing video games, going to conventions, watching
Lord of the Rings
all in one day and repeating the Elvish language to me. You made me laugh, and it was something I could only share with you.”

“Is that why it’s important to you?” I whisper.

He ignores me. “I couldn’t help but feel something more for you. I thought you felt it to, but then things got all screwed up.”

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hide the word “guilt” which I’m sure is painted all over my body. He turns away, and leans his forehead against his door before punching the wood with his fist.

“You cut me out, Zo. The one person who helped me through everything, and you left. Just like he did.”

My mouth drops. Is that seriously how he feels? Comparing me to his prick of a dad?

Crap, he’s totally right though. I did bail. I didn’t think it was possible to sink into a lower spot than I was before, but here I am, plummeting down into the pits of emotional hell.

“And now both of you are trying to get back in my life, without so much as an ‘I’m sorry’.”

He turns back around, his hair falling in his eyes. They’re watery, but he’s not crying. It’s more like he’s torn. So frustrated with himself. His dad. Me.

“I never left,” I mutter. “Not really.” Because Geek Zoe is still here.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Yeah, with you, it seems worse. I have to see you every day. I see you fall short of who you could be all the time. I hear things about you. Things I know can’t be true because you’re better than that. And hating myself for thinking, what if you’re not? What if everything is true? And you’ve become a different person? And I’ve lost you forever?”

“You’ll never lose me.” He won’t. I’m still me… somewhere, and especially with him. I’m still
me.

He shakes his head and doesn’t look at me. I cross the room and grab his face, forcing those dark eyes to look into mine.

“I’m. So. Sorry. For everything.” Crap here come the water works. I sniffle and try to push them away. “I still feel everything for you. Still…” I want to say it but I can’t. Not now. Not after being compared to his dad. Not after everything I’ve put him through over the past few years. Saying everything I feel for him would be wrong right now. “Care for you.”

His eyes tighten, and I hope he’s ready to give into me again. But his voice comes out low and hurt, tossing my expectations for anything more with him right out the window.

“I don’t believe you.”

I’ve lost the ability to breathe. Like I’ve been shot with poison directly in my lungs. “What?”

“I don’t believe you’re sorry.”

Now my breathing is abnormal, like hyperventilating to the point of passing out. “Why not?”

“What’ll happen on Monday, Zo? When we’re back in school and I want to hold your hand in the hallway? When I want to say more than two words to you? When I want you to sit with me at lunch?”

I don’t answer. I can’t answer without it hurting either one of us.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He wiggles from my hold, and I let him, still too stunned and hurt and guilty to move at all.

I hate crying. It seems like it’s all I ever do. And I will
not
cry in front of him again. He’s not the reason why I feel like this.

I am.

“Um, can you forget about this?” I wish I didn’t have to ask that so much. And really wish my voice didn’t crack a million times in that sentence.

His dark eyes shine as he looks at me, his face fighting between hurt and concern. He still worries about me, even after all I’ve done. I so don’t deserve him.

He finally opens his mouth to say something, and I can tell he’s still fighting his torn emotions. “I don’t want to forget. Even though you were backwards drunk,” he reddens as his eyes flick to his bathroom, “you’re close to the girl I used to know.”

I try to smile, but not sure how it looks. Maybe I can get in some sort of, I don’t know, gratitude or something, because I totally sucked at that. And because he needs to know I
do
care about him. “Um, thanks for helping me last night. My parents would’ve killed me if I… yeah. So, thanks.”

He nods, shuffling his feet. He grabs his jacket and walks over to me.

“Come on, I’ll make sure you get home okay.”

Chapter 18

I think my mind is becoming bi-polar.

It’s freezing outside, and Zak offers his jacket to me, even though we’re only walking like ten feet.

“Thanks.”

He nods, squeezing his hands into his front pockets. I stop at my door, turning around to look at him at the bottom of my porch.

This is so crazy. My mind is trying to hit the rewind button to let me know how the heck I ended up here. Not at my porch, but like, in this situation. My used-to-be best friend not wanting anything to do with me. And me still wanting everything with him. Even after all the drinking and trying to forget the hole I’ve put myself in, I still… I still want him.

Even more, I want what I had with him.

He turns to leave, and I blurt the only thing running through my aching head.

“Let me make it up to you.”

He stops, tripping a little as his mouth hangs open. “W-what was that?”

My eyes go straight to my feet and I do a blowfish imitation. “I want to make it up to you. I want to try, I mean do you think it’s possible for us to be friends again?” Gosh, please say yes.

He cocks his eyebrow and my stomach trips over itself. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

I take a deep breath, making sure it doesn’t stay in my cheeks. “What if I could prove to you I can be your friend?”

His mouth turns upward into that unbelievably sexy smirk. “How?”

How?
How
? Hmm…

Oh!

“Will you take me for another driving lesson?”

He hesitates, giving me the are-you-serious expression.

“I promise I won’t hit your seat release. And maybe we could go out to dinner or something.”

“Like in public?” His smile comes back, and I have to remember what the crap I was saying.

“Yeah.” My voice falters, shaking so bad with the decision I’m making. What he said this morning—all of it—makes sense. I can’t be ashamed of him anymore. Or myself. I know it’s easier said than done, but I’m going to try to get Geek Zoe to win the battle over insecurity.

He goes up the steps to stand on the porch, coming so close his breath tickles my nose as he searches my eyes. He won’t find anything. I’m being sincere.

“Okay,” he says taking a step back. “What time?”

As soon as possible. I don’t know how much longer I can wait to be with him again. “Uh, five?” I wish I would’ve offered lunch instead, but I think I need to sleep off the rest of this hangover.

“Today?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? I mean, even with that stuff I gave you, you’re probably dealing with a huge headache.”

Yes, but I don’t care. “I’ll sleep it off.”

For whatever reason, this makes his ears go bright red, and he wipes his hands on his jeans.

“S-sounds good, I guess. I’ll come by at five, but if you’re still feeling like junk, we’re not going anywhere.” He leaps off the steps, smiling at his perfect landing before he turns back to me. “Oh, and Zo?”

“Yeah?”

“I really hope you’re being serious. I don’t think I have much forgiveness left.”

I nod, hoping my enthusiasm will show I’m not going to disappoint him. ’Cause I won’t.

I won’t.

Right?

He smirks. “See ya tonight, then.”

A goofy smile takes shape on my face as I watch him walk away, happy he didn’t ask for his jacket back. I curl into it, breathing in his smell and trying to forget how awful a person I am to him. When I get to my room, I talk to myself in the mirror.

“All right. Listen up,” I say pointing a disciplining finger at my reflection. “You’ve got one shot to fix this. Don’t. Screw. It. Up. You’ve hurt him too much. You
can’t
do it again.”

Suddenly, my worried and neurotic behavior rears its ugly head.
What if someone sees us?

“It doesn’t matter,” I answer myself in the mirror.

What if they spread rumors I’m into all that geeky stuff?

“It would be true. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

But it is! No one would look at me the same.

“Do you like the way they look at you now?”

They envy me! Girls want to be me and guys want to be with me. I’m talked about because I’m popular and they’re jealous, not because I’m an easy bully target. That’s what I want.

“But do you want to be you, the real
you,
more?”

I whisper the last question to myself, glancing from the mirror to Zak’s bedroom window. He seems to know who I am, but do I even know who I am anymore?

My eyes flick to my bookshelf.

Yeah,
that’s
who I am.

I take in another breath of his jacket, the early morning swirling around me. The way his hands felt against my skin. The sweet taste of his tongue gliding with mine. The heat in my pelvis as he pressed himself against it. It was better than before, when all we did was kiss a few times. This was something much deeper. Like he’s been struggling with the same urges I have, but been keeping himself at a distance because of what he said. He doesn’t really know me anymore.

That’s another thing I can’t stop thinking about. Even when he jumped away, and told me to stop, he bore his soul to me. Opened up in a way no one else has. Told me exactly how he feels, and how I can fix it.

And I’m
going
to fix it.

Without removing his jacket—or anything else of his I’m wearing—I slide between my sheets, still feeling all in a flurry from the entire night. It totally didn’t happen the way I thought. But instead of feeling guilty and sad, which I should totally feel considering the whole drunken stupor, I feel anxious—excited I have the chance to make it up to him.

Closing my eyes and grinning, I let my mind go to romantic places. At least, romantic for me and Zak. Hogwarts, Middle Earth, Voyager, and I laugh as I think about the Millennium Falcon, since we’ll be in my car later. I still can’t believe all these things remind him of what I was to him. That it wasn’t an obsession, but something that helped him through a difficult situation. I guess that makes me the real dork, since I don’t have any deeper meaning for the geeky stuff. Just that it’s pretty much awesome.

I sigh, stretching out and cuddling into his jacket. My mind won’t shut off though, and my body feels like it’s been chopped up in an engine turbine and mashed back together. After an hour of fumbling around under the sheets, I give up on sleep and get one of the books from my nerdy collection.

The
Guide to World of Warcraft
catches my eye. I think the last time I flipped through its pages was a few years ago. Leaping back on my bed, I get ready to toss my comforter over me, but I pause.

I’m not hiding anymore. This can be good practice for me.

Taking a deep breath, I open the book before I lose my nerve.

The pages look brand-new. The picture of the Death Knight almost looks real. I trace the patterns on the thick armor and scary complexion. It looks totally badass, and I get the urge to play the game, ready to annihilate any and all competition.

I flip the page to the blood elves. Holy hell! What is that? There’s a handwritten scribble in the margin! I would
never
write in one of my books, especially the WoW one. Putting the book closer to the light, I squint to make out what it says.

Thanks for everything Zo! Better study up for our tournament this weekend. I’m gonna wipe the floor with you! —Zak

My elated feelings get swept away as I read his words, guilt replacing them instantly. As my eyes fill to the brim, I slam the cover of the book and chuck it across the bed.

I’m so naïve to think I can change everything overnight. That tournament was the first time I ditched him. I went to a party instead because they actually invited me. I ended up wasted and making out with another guy. Someone who’s way popular and crowd pleasing. Totally brought me into Popular Zoe’s realm. I technically didn’t cheat on Zak, since we were never really together, but I’m sure it felt that way to him.

Crapola, not much has changed since then, has it?

And you know what sucks? I didn’t even care. I was too happy to finally feel accepted I didn’t even apologize. I didn’t say a word to him about it. I kept my window shut and curtains closed and went out and partied every chance I could. Next time I saw him was in school. He was even nice to me then, and I shoved him aside like he meant nothing to me. All because he reminded me of the stuff I was made fun of for.

Holy crap! Why is he willing to give me another chance? After everything I’ve put him through. Here I am feeling all mushy gushy over his kisses when they never should’ve happened. I don’t want to be that girl—the girl who uses sex and alcohol to solve everything. The girl I was last night. Zak doesn’t want that girl either. How the heck did I think kissing him was a good idea? I’m the most selfish person in the world.

I glance at the clock, trying to focus my eyes through the watery blur. It’s almost eight-thirty, and definitely not the time to call and cancel since he’s probably crashed out from being up all night too. Maybe I can pretend to be sick or something. I mean, I do feel pretty effing awful. But would that be better or worse than going out with him? I don’t want to mess this up, but now the building pressure of it all makes me feel like I don’t stand a chance of fixing anything.