Dating on the Dork Side

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Dating on the Dork Side Page 21

by Charity Tahmaseb


  I met Mercedes at the bottom of the stairs. “Have you seen Elle?” I asked.

  She nodded toward the living room. “On the porch,” she said.

  With so many people crammed inside, the cool evening air that greeted me was a welcome relief. I stepped outside, where a nearly full moon lit the lawn. A breeze blew a single oak leaf across the grass, inviting me to follow. Maybe Elle had felt the same pull. I decided on a walk.

  The newer subdivision that Elle lived in had always seemed a world away, but I’d only walked a block or two when I turned the corner and found myself on Rhino’s street. Had my feet automatically led me there again? I thought about turning around, but the truth was, I missed Rhino. I wanted to talk to him. About the dance. About everything.

  I passed another house or two before Rhino’s open garage door came into view. A flicker of blue caught my eye. I stepped closer and the blue took shape. I hunched behind parked cars and peeked around trees. I walked on tiptoes. Not that I needed to.

  Music was floating from the garage. It was something slow but with enough of a beat that Rhino could twirl his partner. Once, he even dipped her. Elle’s laughter rose above the song and Rhino pulled her close.

  He kissed her then. It was like something you’d see in a movie. His thumb trailing along her cheekbone, her chin tilted just so, navigating the nose issue with finesse. I blinked, fast and hard, a strange lump in my throat.

  I crouched in the darkness just outside the circle of light spilling from the garage and wrapped my arms around myself to stop shaking. I didn’t like Rhino that way, I reminded myself again. I really didn’t. Still, seeing him with Elle made me feel like he’d punched me in the stomach. He had her now. He didn’t need me. And I had no one.

  Rhino broke off the kiss with so much skill, it left me breathless. Then he took Elle’s hand, and together they walked to the ladder that led to his bedroom loft.

  The song faded and the gentle plunk of Elle’s sandals hitting each rung echoed into the night. A new song cued up, but the music was lost in the scrape of the garage door closing. The last thing I saw was Rhino’s dress shoes taking the ladder’s rungs two at a time.

  I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at the door. Finally, my feet crept backward, one small step at a time. I stopped when I hit something warm and solid. A yelp strangled in my throat.

  “Shh, Camy, it’s me,” a voice said. “It’s just me.”

  I knew who that voice belonged to.

  Chapter 18

  HE LET ME GO slowly, and I turned around. The first thing I saw was the number fourteen. Gavin was still wearing his football jersey over his white dress shirt. The knot in his tie was loose, like he’d been tugging at it all night. I blinked, wondering what he was doing here.

  “It’s just me,” he said again.

  I nodded, breathless. I looked over my shoulder, at Rhino’s garage. Had Gavin seen as much as I had? He followed my gaze, and his half-laugh made my heart squeeze tight.

  “Does it bother you?” I said.

  “I was wondering the same thing about you.”

  “Rhino’s just my friend.”

  “I’m not sure that Elle and I were even that much.”

  Gavin fell silent, and in the quiet that followed, I started wondering again.

  “What are you doing here?” I said, my words so soft, I’m not sure he heard me. It was almost like I didn’t want him to hear me, didn’t want to disturb whatever it was that had brought us together.

  “You want to know something crazy?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m glad this happened. All of it. It sucked being dumped, but you know what didn’t suck?”

  I shook my head.

  “Talking to you again.”

  There was so much I wanted to say, but I just stood there, staring up at him.

  “I’m sorry about the dance,” he said. “I would have been there, but Coach … he knows something’s up. Or at least, he thinks he knows it. He and Pendergast have seen all the new, uh, relationships going on. And with the way the team’s been playing…” Gavin sighed. “Let’s just say he wanted to have a little talk with me.”

  “A little talk?” That was probably not a good thing.

  “A little talk that lasted two hours.”

  Oh. “You didn’t say anything, did you? I mean, I’d totally understand if you did.”

  He shook his head. “I’d rather have him mad at me for being a lousy team captain than for …” He shrugged. “You know.”

  It was almost funny. There we were, all alone in the dark, and still neither of us could bring ourselves to talk about the wiki out loud.

  “You’re not a bad captain,” I said.

  “Right. We haven’t won a game all season.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  He raised his head and looked at me. “Then whose fault is it?”

  I thought I should say: Mine. It’s my fault. I even tried the words out on my tongue, but they stalled there. “Have you been walking around all night?” I said instead.

  His gaze flickered toward Rhino’s garage. “I needed to blow off some steam.”

  “Want to keep walking?” I asked.

  Without a word, he took my hand. And, just like that, we left Rhino and Elle behind us. Neither of us looked back.

  We each placed the toes of our shoes on the fifty-yard line. The field was quiet and dark, so different from how it had been a few hours ago. A chill ran over my arms, and I tried to keep my fingers from trembling.

  “You cold?” he asked.

  “A little,” I admitted.

  “Here.” He pulled off the football jersey and helped me tug it on. The sleeves hit below my elbows, and the number fourteen swallowed me. He grinned. “Looks pretty good.”

  I laughed, but I stopped when Gavin's expression changed. “I have to tell you something,” he said. “You asked me if I remembered the kid I was in eighth grade. The boy who couldn’t pass a test? Well, once upon a time, my mom married a jerk.” He shook his head like he was trying to shake away a memory. “Things got pretty bad at home. I started failing stuff at school. But you know that part. You were trying to help me.”

  I wanted to help him right then. I wanted to reach out to him and tell him that none of it mattered. That he didn’t have to explain anything to me. But the thing was, he did.

  I needed him to tell me what had happened. I needed to know why he’d suddenly stopped talking to me, then had spent most of the past three years pretending I didn’t exist. I needed to know why he’d danced with Clarissa, why he’d hurt me like that. So I kept my hands at my sides and I waited.

  “Anyway, I figured you must have said something to the guidance counselor about me,” he said. “The next thing I know is, I’m sitting in her office with my mom. And the next thing after that, I've got an appointment to see a therapist.”

  He took a breath and let it out slowly. “I thought only crazy people needed therapy. I was embarrassed and angry, and I guess I blamed you for it, even though that didn’t make any sense.” He sucked in another breath. “I wanted to hurt you, like I thought you’d hurt me. Then the chance to do it came up at that dance with Clarissa and … and I took it.” He looked down at his shoes.

  The words in my mouth were thick, almost sticky. I wasn’t sure what Gavin would think when he knew the truth.

  “I did tell the guidance counselor about you,” I said. “I didn’t mean to do it, but things weren’t so great at my house back then, either. My parents were fighting a lot, so I went to her office a few times to talk about it. When she asked if anything else was bothering me, I told her how frustrated I was because I was tutoring this really smart boy who couldn't pass any of his tests.”

  I waited for his verdict, but Gavin kept studying the grass. “I’m glad you told,” he said finally. “The therapy helped. It took a while for me to see it, though. It took even longer to realize what a douche I’d been to you. I'm really sorry.”

&n
bsp; He stole a glance up at me. “You know what else helped? All those test-taking tips and study techniques you taught me.”

  I blinked.

  “Turns out, they work. I'm still hoping to get some sort of athletic scholarship, but I already have a good shot at a few small academic ones.”

  “Academic?”

  Gavin’s smile made the night luminous.

  “Do you have a school picked out?” I said.

  “Wisconsin somewhere. I'd love Madison, but I'll take La Crosse, or Stout, or even Green Bay. Although I swear, I will never be a Packers fan.” He held up three fingers, like a Boy Scout salute.

  “Wisconsin,” I said, like I’d never heard the word before.

  “Yeah, it's that state just to the east of us.”

  Why hadn't I thought of that? I could go to school in Wisconsin. Big Ten football for Dad, socially conscious college campus for Mom. Not too far from either of them. Perfect.

  “Wisconsin,” I said again, not caring that Gavin would probably think I'd lost my mind.

  “They have lots of cheese there,” he said, his voice hesitant.

  “Oh, I know where it is,” I said. “You know what else I know? You just helped me solve a huge problem.” On impulse, I threw my arms around him.

  Maybe it was the relief of finally understanding what had come between us in the past. Maybe it was the joy of finally having a direction for my future. Or maybe it was how his arms felt wrapped around my waist. Or the moonlight. Whatever it was, I bounced up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

  “Good form,” he said, “but your aim is slightly off.” He took my chin between his finger and thumb and bent his face toward mine.

  Then, there on the fifty-yard line, Gavin “Mad Dog” Madison kissed me.

  He tasted sweet and warm, like hot chocolate, or a Hershey's Bar, with just a hint of cinnamon thrown in. And I thought: As long as I live, I'll remember this, the sweetness of this kiss. His hands cupped my face and I felt like I could stand there forever, on the fifty-yard line, the perfect spot with the perfect boy.

  That was when the stadium lights blazed on. At first, all I could see was the glare of the green grass and the field markers glowing white. Then a laugh echoed from somewhere in the stands, high-pitched and screechy. I squinted, my gaze drawn to the bleachers. I looked up at Gavin again and found a question on his face. How long, I was sure he was wondering, until the smarty-pants tutor girl figures it out?

  And then I knew I'd been set up. This whole thing, all of it, the walk, the talk—the kiss—all of it was just a plan to destroy me, once and for all.

  My eyes stung with tears, turning the lights into prisms. I did the only thing I could think of. I ran.

  Chapter 19

  I HEARD GAVIN calling my name, but I knew the neighborhood better than he did. I didn't do anything obvious, like head for Rhino's. Instead, I circled around and took the back alley that led to my house and crept in through the garage.

  I pulled off Gavin’s jersey and tucked it into my leg support. As long as I didn't dance around the living room, it should stay put.

  I was halfway through the kitchen when I heard Dad call, “Camy, is that you?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  The TV clicked off and he appeared in the doorway.

  “I thought you weren’t coming home for another hour. Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  “You look kind of sick.” The concern in his eyes made me feel guilty. I wasn't sick, I wanted to say. Unless being stupid was a disease. If that was true, I had a fatal case of it.

  “I kind of have a headache,” I said instead.

  Head? Heart? My whole body hurt.

  “It's been a big day,” he said. “Want a cup of tea?”

  “I think I'll just go to bed.” Gavin's jersey slipped a little in my brace. I resisted the urge to check if the number fourteen was peeking out below the hem of my dress.

  I was halfway up the stairs when Dad said, “Cams?”

  I stopped, my hand gripping the rail. “Yeah?”

  “You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?”

  “Sure,” I said. I didn't like to lie, but I told myself the only thing that was really wrong was that I’d been dumb enough to trust a boy who'd already proven he wasn't worth trusting. Dad always wanted to fix things. There was no way he could fix that.

  “Okay, then,” he said. “Have a good night.”

  “You, too,” I whispered.

  It took five minutes to take off my dress, toss it on the closet floor, stash Gavin’s jersey under my bed, and turn on my laptop. I probably could have managed all that in even less time, but I felt the need to rip my pantyhose into a dozen pieces first. Those things are stronger than you’d think.

  With a scowl on my face, I went straight for the wiki. I was determined to discover all the answers this time. I was finally going to unmask the mastermind. When I did, I’d nail him, and Gavin, and all the other morons on the anti-hit list to the wall.

  It ended tonight.

  The first thing I did was scroll through the old messages in the chat box. I bypassed all the “Call of Duty throwdowns” until I found this thread:

  Lukasn: How do we stop her?

  randallb: She has a weak spot. Everybdy on the football team knows that. Gotta play a little offense here. It’s not that hard.

  When I’d first read those posts, I thought they were talking about Elle. I realized now, it was me.

  jasona: o0o, tough guy. Say what, bro. Why don’t *you* do sumthin about it?

  It wasn’t Randall, but Gavin, who’d done something about it. I checked the date on the thread. The next day we’d ended up in the boys' bathroom. The evidence was right there, in front of me. I’d just refused to see it.

  When I clicked on the wiki's home page again, the list of Hotties refreshed. It was something I'd gotten used to, but this time, my name appeared at the top of the list. I clicked on it.

  The picture took forever to load, but I recognized the stadium lights right away. I pulled my trashcan closer, just in case I needed to throw up.

  There it was. Or, I guess, there I was. On the fifty-yard line. My mouth formed a perfect ‘o’. My eyes reflected the light so I looked like I was possessed. My arms were held out like those of a puppet on a string.

  Beneath the photo, jasona had written:

  ha, ha, she looks like a dear in the headlights.

  “It's d-e-e-r, you idiot,” I said aloud. But really? Who was the idiot? The tool with the cell phone camera? Or the girl wearing the jersey of a guy on the anti-hit list?

  Because even though you couldn't see Gavin's face, there was no missing the huge number fourteen draped over my dress. Elle certainly wouldn't miss it. And I couldn't explain it to her, not without ruining everything. Or maybe I should say, everything that wasn’t ruined already.

  In three seconds I’d made my decision. I was logged in as Jason, so technically, I wouldn't be deleting the picture, he would. Without comments, it might not leave a trail. But I didn't care if it did. All that mattered was getting it off the wiki before Elle logged on.

  I clicked delete, then refreshed the page. I was right. The photo, and all evidence that it had been posted, vanished. I leaned back in my chair, thinking I should have had that tea.

  It was going to be a long night.

  At one o’clock, when I heard the creak of Dad's footsteps on the stairs, I switched off the desk lamp and huddled in the dark. After his bedroom door had clicked closed, I snuck downstairs. Forget the tea. I made a pot of coffee and carried the whole thing upstairs.

  By three in the morning, I was feeling wired and my stomach hurt from anger and from all the caffeine I’d consumed. I'd read every single page on the wiki but I still felt like I was missing something.

  Then it hit me. All this time, I’d never gone back to the secret page I'd found that first day, the one with the photo of Elle and Clarissa in Greece. I clicked through and held my breath during t
he second login. The first picture that came up didn’t feature Elle, Clarissa, or a deep blue sea at all.

  It was me.

  For a long moment, my brain refused to believe what my eyes were telling me. The picture had been uploaded that afternoon. It showed me sitting on the trunk of the convertible. My dress looked beautiful. For once, my hair was behaving. It would've been a great picture. Except.

  My mouth was open. My eyes were closed.

  “A keeper,” Rhino had called it.

  Oh. Oh, no.

  Only one person could have taken that photo. Only one person could have uploaded it. I checked anyway, hoping to see Jason's or Aiden's screen name. But no. Someone named Admin, without the asterisk, had posted it. He’d done it just before the homecoming parade started.

  I clutched my empty coffee cup tight, just to have something to hold on to.

  Rhino … was Admin?

  I shook my head, and tears fell from my eyes as I did. Rhino was the wiki's mastermind. He’d known about it all along. Because he’d created it. I didn't want to believe it, not until I talked to him myself. Maybe there was some other explanation. I clicked back to the page and read the note Admin/Rhino had posted along with the photo:

  A keeper.

  Yeah, I thought. It was.

  I made a backup of the picture and logged off. I couldn't stand another second of staring at the wiki. I climbed into bed and to my surprise, I not only fell asleep, but I slept hard. No dreams, no worries. At least, not until my cell phone rang.

  My hand groped for the phone. The display read twenty-five minutes after six. I squinted at the number. No way was I talking to Rhino. Not yet. Not until I was better prepared. But it wasn’t him on the phone. It was Elle. My mind went to last night, to Elle and Rhino, together in his garage. Kissing like movie stars. Climbing up the stairs.

 

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