It boggles my mind you're not a whiz at Boggle. I would've guessed otherwise.
I like whiz. Cool word. Odd spelling.
So what are you doing today?
Hanging out with my girlfriend.
Girlfriend? What girlfriend? He's back with his ex? And she's here in town?
Another text pops up. That's you, by the way. Do you care if I call you that?
He wants to call me his girlfriend? After one date? Or two, if you count the party.
My phone rings. It's Wes.
"Hey," I answer.
"I didn't mean to freak you out with the girlfriend thing. It's just that I already think of you that way so if it's okay with you, I want to call you that."
"Um...okay."
He chuckles. "You don't sound too excited about it."
"I just wasn't expecting it. We just started dating."
"But we have the whole past lives thing, so who knows how long we've really been together?"
"True," I say, laughing. "Although I'm still a little skeptical about that."
"So yes or no? Are you agreeing to be my girlfriend? It comes with many perks."
"Which are what?"
"All the garden vegetables you want. Stimulating discussions about Bigfoot and other unique creatures. Free downloads of Monkey Mummy for all your friends and family. Unlimited affection. Should I go on?"
"I don't think that's necessary. I'll agree to be your girlfriend."
"What sealed the deal? Was it the free downloads? The stimulating discussions?"
"The unlimited affection." I smile. "I like that one."
"Good, because I like it too. So what do you think about coming over?"
"Today?"
"Yeah, like later this afternoon."
"To your house?"
"I'll give you directions. It's easy to find. You can check out the garden and then maybe we'll hang out by the pool."
"You have a pool?"
"I do. It's supposed to be hot today so if you want to swim, bring a suit. Otherwise, we could just hang around the pool and continue discussing the merits of various words."
"Sounds fun, but I don't have a car so I don't have a way to get there."
"Can't you borrow your mom's car? Or your dad's?"
"I can't drive. I don't have a license."
"That's right. I forgot. But you never said why you don't have one. Did you not pass the test?"
Now I have to make something up. What do I tell him?
"I was in a car accident when I was younger and it scared me and now I'm afraid to drive. I know I need to get over it but I'm not there yet."
"Oh. Sorry about the accident. When did it happen?"
"A few years ago. So anyway, I can't make it there today but thanks for inviting me."
"You're still coming. I'll come pick you up."
"What time?"
"How about three?"
"Sounds good. See you then."
Ending the call, I go out to the deck where my parents are still reading the newspaper.
"I'm going to Wes' house later. He's picking me up at three."
My dad lowers his paper and peers up at me over the rim of his reading glasses. "You're going to his house? Will his father be there?"
"I don't know. I didn't ask, but I assume he will be. Professors don't typically work on weekends, do they?"
"They could, but not usually," my mom says. "So what are you and Wes going to do?"
"He's going to show me his garden."
"That better be all he's showing you," my dad mutters as his eyes return to the paper.
"Dale," my mom scolds, swatting his arm.
"What? He's a teenage boy. I know what teenage boys are thinking. I used to be one."
I roll my eyes. "So anyway, I'll be gone this afternoon."
"How late will you be there?" my mom asks.
"I don't know yet. Probably a few hours."
"And your homework is done?"
"Not yet, but I'm going to finish it right now." I take off before they can say anything more. Just a few days ago they were pushing me to date, and now that I am, they're freaking out. Parents. I don't understand them.
Wes shows up right at three. I race to the door before my parents can get there. I yell goodbye to them, then pull on Wes to hurry to his car.
"What's the rush?" he asks.
"My parents. They're driving me crazy. If you go in there, you may never come out."
"Why? What's going on?"
"Now that we're officially dating, they've decided to become overprotective parents who think you're out to take advantage of their daughter."
"They really think that?"
"Don't take it personally. It's not about you. It's just the fact that you're a teenage boy and my dad thinks teenage boys are nothing but raging hormones that can't be trusted around a girl."
"I do have raging hormones," he jokes as he drives down the street. "But for the most part, I'm good at keeping them under control."
"I'll make sure to tell him that but I doubt it'll help. The fact you keep asking me out has him convinced you're up to no good. He's keeping his eye on you."
"Maybe I should explain to him that I keep asking you out because you're brilliant and beautiful and I can't stop thinking about you."
I never know how to react to the compliments he gives me. I'm not used to this. I'm used to name-calling and insults, not compliments. But then I remember my mom's advice.
"Thanks," I say.
"For what?"
"Saying that stuff about me."
"I'm just stating the facts." He turns down a street that leads to a neighborhood full of expensive houses on large lots. "So before we get there, I should tell you about my dad."
"What about him?"
"He's kind of strange. Not bad strange, but strange in a physics professor way."
"I don't get it."
"He's always thinking. His mind doesn't turn off so you could be talking to him and all of a sudden, his mind drifts to whatever problem he's been trying to solve and he stops listening. I'm used to it but other people find it odd. Or they think he's being rude, but that's not it at all. In fact, he feels bad when it happens but he can't help it. It's just how his mind works."
"When you say he's trying to solve a problem, do you mean with his research?"
"Yeah. He just started a new project and he's really into it so don't be surprised if you're talking to him and he suddenly leaves. It's nothing against you. It just means he needs to go write down whatever popped in his head before he forgets."
"That's weird."
"Yeah, it makes it nearly impossible for him to date. Women don't understand him. My mom used to tolerate it but she didn't like it. She always accused him of ignoring her and putting work before their marriage. So she looked for attention elsewhere and found it with her trainer."
"That's quite a change to go from a physics professor to a personal trainer."
"I know. I don't really get how she ended up with my dad. They don't go together at all."
"Maybe they did when they were younger."
"My grandma said my dad has always been like this so there must've been something else that drew them together. Whatever it was, it didn't last."
"Has your dad been dating?"
"He's put himself on some dating websites, but so far, he hasn't had any luck."
"I think it'd be hard to date when you're old."
"I think it'd be easier. By the time you're my dad's age you should have figured out who you are and what you want. It should be easy to weed out the people you know aren't a good fit." He pulls into the driveway of a large two-story brick house. "Home sweet home."
We get out of the car and I stand in the driveway, admiring the house.
"It's nice."
"Thanks. I let my dad pick it out. I think he did a good job."
"You let him?" I laugh. "It's his house. I would hope he was able to have a say in it."
"It's actually my house.
I bought it and put both our names on the deed."
"You bought this?"
"Paid cash. Used some of the money I made from my game. I bought the house because I thought it'd be a good investment but also because my dad was short on money after the divorce. He doesn't make much as a professor and my mom pretty much took all their savings."
"Even though she cheated on him? How is that fair?"
"She had a really good lawyer. And my dad didn't want to fight with her so he just gave in to her demands."
"Has your mom ever tried to take any of your money?"
"No. She knows I wouldn't give her any, not after what she put my dad through. If she really needed money, I'd give it to her, but as of now, she's set. Her house is paid off and she makes good money at her job." He takes my hand. "Let's go inside."
The inside of the house is as impressive as the outside with a two-story entry and living area and a large stone fireplace. As we walk through the living room, I see the kitchen off to the left. It's huge, with a big center island, granite countertops, and high-end appliances.
"Is that where you cook all your gourmet meals?" I kid.
"I don't know if mac and cheese is considered gourmet, but yeah, I use the kitchen now and then. My dad's a decent cook so he spends a lot of time in there."
Wes gives me a quick tour of the main level, which includes his home office. It looks out at the back yard, where there's a pool, some chairs situated around a fire pit, and a dining area that's next to an outdoor kitchen.
"I love your back yard," I say.
"That's what sold me on the house, especially the pool. My dad and I agreed we had to have one. Coming from California, it's a must. We've always had a pool. I know we can't use this one for most of the year, but we still had to have it."
He takes me upstairs, where there are four bedrooms and a laundry room.
"My room's a mess," he says, opening the door just enough for me to see inside. "I should've cleaned it but I got stuck on a call and didn't have time."
"A call for work?"
"Yeah, I was interviewing programmers. I need to hire someone to help me with the new game I'm working on. I'd like to do it all myself but I can't get it all done and go to school."
I still can't believe he runs a company while he's still in high school. That's impressive. And sexy.
"So did you find someone?" I ask.
"No. None of them were a good fit. I have another interview tomorrow night. She seems good on paper but I'll have to see how she is in person."
"She lives in town?"
"Yeah, she's a sophomore at the university. I'm meeting her at a coffee shop on campus."
"Is she qualified for the job? She's still in college."
He smiles. "I was in middle school when I programmed my first game."
"That's true. So you're saying she's a genius like you?"
He chuckles. "You think I'm a genius?"
"You developed a bestselling game when you were basically a kid. I'd say that qualifies you as being a genius."
"Not really, but I'll take the compliment." He gives me a kiss, then takes my hand and leads me back down the stairs.
"If you hire this girl," I say, "will you guys be meeting a lot?"
"Probably. It'd be great if she works out. I was thinking I'd have to find someone out of town but having someone here would be a lot more convenient."
What if he meets her and likes her? For more than her programming skills? He couldn't date her, though. She'd be his employee.
I've barely dated Wes and I'm already getting jealous of other girls who might be spending time with him.
I'm not that girl. I'm not the jealous type. But when it comes to Wes, maybe I am.
Chapter Eighteen
"Dad," Wes calls out.
"In the kitchen," I hear a man say.
Wes and I go in the kitchen and I see an older man sitting down at the island in front of a sandwich and a glass of milk.
"Dad, this is Luna," Wes says.
"Hi, Mr. Deckle," I say, wanting to shake his hand but unable to because he just picked up his sandwich.
"Call me Tom." He sets his sandwich down and rubs his hand on a napkin, then extends it to me. "Good to meet you."
I shake his hand. "You too."
Wes' dad looks like a cartoon professor. He's bald on top but has wiry gray hair on the sides that sticks out and makes it look like he's wearing furry earmuffs. He has glasses with round black rims and a beard and mustache that are mostly white with just a little gray. He's much older than I thought he'd be. I'm guessing he's almost sixty.
"My son has become quite enamored with you," Tom says to me.
"Enamored," Wes repeats. "Also a good word. And underused. We really should incorporate more words into our daily conversations. And by 'we' I mean everyone."
"I couldn't agree more," his dad says. "My students use the same tired words over and over again in their papers. And their speech is even more limited. Half the time they don't even use words, just acronyms." He takes a bite of his sandwich.
"How do you like living in Wisconsin?" I ask.
He gulps down his milk, then says, "I grew up here so I like being back." He winks at Wes. "But I don't think my son was too thrilled with the move until he met you."
I look at Wes. "I thought you liked it here."
He shrugs. "It's okay. Sometimes I miss being close to the ocean."
"He had to leave some friends behind," his dad says, "but he's made new ones. Even found himself a girlfriend." He winks again, but this time at me.
Wes doesn't even seem embarrassed. If my dad was winking and talking about me being enamored with Wes, I'd be mortified. But Wes thinks nothing of it.
"You want something to drink?" he asks me.
"Not right now." I sit down next to Tom. "So do you like your job at the university?"
He sets his sandwich down, staring straight ahead, not answering me. He gets up and races out of the room.
"Told you," Wes says.
"He has an idea? That's why he ran off?"
"Yep. Something clicked in his brain and now he has to go work it out." He motions me to get up. "Let's go check out the garden."
"I don't even see it out there."
"It's way in the back. You can't see it from the house unless you're upstairs."
He takes me to the far end of the back yard, beyond the pool, to a series of raised beds.
"Did you build these?" I ask.
"My dad and I did." He hands me a basket that was sitting on the ground. "Here. Take whatever you want."
"Are you sure? Don't you want it for yourself?"
"My dad and I can't eat all this. Go ahead. Fill up the basket."
"My mom is going to love you even more now," I say as I pluck a big red tomato from its stem.
"What about you?" He folds his arms over his chest as he watches me move through the plants.
"What about me?" I ask, adding a few hot peppers to the basket. My dad likes to make his own salsa and hot peppers are his key ingredient.
"Do you love me for my gardening skills?"
I laugh. "It would take more than that for me to declare my love."
"Hmm." He leaves it at that and joins me in the garden, picking some fresh herbs.
Why was he asking me about love? It's way too soon to even think about that. And we're too young to fall in love. I know Stella's in love, but again, she and Sam are a rare exception.
When my basket is full, I set it on the ground and sit on the bench that's next to one of the beds. There's a strawberry plant there and I reach down and pluck off a berry and eat it. It's warm from the sun and bursting with flavor, better than any store-bought strawberry.
"You like it?" Wes asks, sitting beside me and grabbing a strawberry for himself.
"It's the best strawberry I've ever had."
He reaches down and grabs another and hands it to me. "Here."
I bite into it and the juice spills from
my mouth, dribbling down my chin. I go to wipe it up but Wes beats me to it, swiping it off my chin with his finger. "You've got some more."
"I do?" I reach my hand up but he takes it and brings it back down to my lap as he leans over and presses his lips to mine. His lips are warm and he tastes like strawberries, which I know because our tongues are now doing a playful dance that makes me drop the strawberry stem I was holding. It might've landed on my shorts, staining them, but if so, I don't care. I'm not stopping to check. Not when this feels so amazing.
We continue to make out on the bench until a bee decides to buzz around our heads and refuses to go away.
"Hazard of sitting by the garden," Wes says. "The bees think they own the place. They see us as intruders."
"Are there a lot of them?"
"Yeah, but it's good. They're needed to pollinate the plants." He stands up. "Let's go sit by the pool. They won't bother us there."
We lounge by the pool until six, then my mom texts asking when I'll be home. Wes' dad invited me to have dinner with them but I tell him I'll have to join them some other time. I'd much rather stay here with Wes but I haven't finished my homework yet. I need to do it before I go to bed.
When I get home, my mom gushes over the basket I made from Wes' garden. She tries one of the tomatoes and goes on and on about how much better it is than a store tomato. She begs my dad to help her do a garden next year and he sighs and rolls his eyes and kiddingly scolds me for dating the one and only boy on the planet who gardens.
***
Monday morning when I get to chem class, Wes is already there. He's at our table with a crowd of people around him. Casey, one of the popular girls, is sitting at my seat, leaning toward Wes, smiling and twirling her hair.
I march over there, stopping at my stool. "Excuse me," I say to Casey. "You're in my seat."
She ignores me, her eyes on Wes.
He smiles at me and says, "Casey, you're in Luna's seat. You need to move."
She slides off the stool, putting her hand on Wes' shoulder as if she needs the support to get down. Then she gets close to his ear and says something to him.
He clears his throat and mumbles, "Not interested."
Did she just ask him out? She probably doesn't know we're dating. Not many people do.
When she moves aside, I sit down and ask, "What's with all the people?"
The Geek and The Goddess Page 16
