Confession Of A Nerdoholic

by Savannah Blevins

  He thought my dream of owning a bake shop was laughable. Literally laughable. “Wasted potential” was the exact phrase he used to describe it. I absolutely had to bring my grade up. I wouldn’t survive back in California with him. I wanted to graduate from Maryland like my mother.

  The thought of her made me choke up. My father always accused me of being too much like her. Apparently, that was my biggest problem. Odd Eloise was a genetic trait. According to my straight-laced, “wear a suit even on the weekends” father, my mom was eccentric. That was the word he used, which didn’t sound bad except for the way he said it. Like it was some kind of curse word or deadly disease that didn’t have a cure. I could never blame my mom for leaving him.

  Hadn’t I left him at the first available opportunity?

  The part that hurt wasn’t that she left my father, but that she didn’t take me with her. She left me behind. I could have traveled the world with her. I could have helped her live out her artisan dream that my father suppressed for their entire marriage. We could have escaped him together.

  She was the one who taught me to bake. I couldn’t help but think, every time I put a spoon in a bowl, how different my life might have been if I could have followed her. She could have spent her mornings painting, and I could have baked. We could have been the dynamic mother-daughter duo in a tiny loft apartment in some European city.

  Except we were not. I hadn’t seen her in over ten years. No phone call. Not even a letter.

  By the time I was supposed to meet Sloan and Ava at the coffee café on Thursday, I was in desperate need of a mental and emotional break. I had a nightmare the previous night that I woke up in a dorm room at Pepperdine with my dad as my roommate. He’d switched my major to pre-law and bought me an entire closet full of pantsuits.

  I walked down the street toward the coffee shop with my heels clicking together like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. They were the same color and just as sparkly. If I clicked them enough, I might transport myself back to the bake shop and relive Library Boy buying my cupcakes all over again. I skipped into the coffee shop, forcing my mood to lift so my friends wouldn’t ask questions, and allowed the warmth to surround me. I slipped off my jacket, straightening out the fluffy end of my dress. I looked around for Sloan. She leaned over the counter, chatting up none other than Cowboy Joe himself.

  Preston was technically a cowboy. I mean, the boy was from Texas, and according to Sloan, his jeans were so tight they deserved some form of riding, but he didn’t go all out with a hat or anything. At least, not outside of Sloan’s imagination.

  I rolled my eyes and walked over to sit next to Ava at our usual corner booth. I threw a look over my shoulder toward Sloan and Preston. “I see I’m too late to stop her.”

  Sloan had purchased the knee high black leather boots she talked about, and she sported them with a black mini skirt that fit like latex over her curves. One thing was for sure…she would get his attention.

  Sloan would make a blind man blush in that outfit.

  Ava smiled as I slid into the booth. “If she leans any further over that counter, she’s going to lick his dimples.”

  I held out my hand for her phone because mine was buried in the black depths of my backpack in case my dad tried to call. I didn’t want to miss this prime opportunity to annoy Sloan, though. Ava instinctively knew what I wanted and shoved her phone in my hand while she scooted over so she could see what I typed.

  I quickly typed out a text to Sloan.

  Ava: Back away from the cowboy with your hands up.

  After taking Sloan’s order, for what I’m sure was the third time in the past twenty minutes, Preston walked away, and Sloan jerked her phone out of her pocket. She made a face at me and replied.

  Sloan: I am behaving myself, thank you very much!

  Ava and I both let out a snort. Sloan very rarely behaved.

  Ava: Tell that to the stool you’re molesting.

  I knew as soon as she registered it because she looked down and adjusted herself. She whipped around to face Preston as he walked back with a cup of coffee. Sloan had a distinct middle finger stuck up in our direction behind her back.

  I gave her one second to start talking again before I sent my next message.

  Ava: Well whatever you do, DO NOT LOOK DOWN AT HIS CROTCH.

  She peeked down at her phone, but then took her eyes straight back up to Preston. “She won’t do it,” Ava said confidently. “She’s developing a resistance to you.”

  I pressed my lips into a confident grin. “Oh, just wait for it.”

  Sure enough, two seconds later, her gaze dropped from Preston’s eyes.

  Ava and I busted out laughing, and Sloan threw a menacing stare over her shoulder. “She’s going to kill you,” Ava sniggered while giving me a much deserved high five.

  “After the week I’ve had, death would be a welcome release.”

  Sloan headed back over to the table, and she slammed the coffee down in front of me. “That’s the last time I’m nice enough to order you a drink.”

  “Yeah, because you did that out of the pure goodness of your heart.” I smirked at her, grabbing my cup of caffeinated goodness.

  “At least I have the nerve to talk to him.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her chin in the air. “At least I hump the seat in front of him and not the one across the room.”

  I ignored her without success. My dating record was always up for debate, especially lately. Every Friday night that I went home alone without even a number, I got a lecture the next morning. They knew me. They knew my nunhood was by choice. I wasn’t a people person. Chatting with people I didn’t know in a bar wasn’t my cup of tea. I liked familiarity. I liked a certain kind of person. I didn’t like drunk guys with the personality of tree bark asking why my shoes didn’t match my dress, or how my hair ended up this particular shade of blonde. They didn’t care that I started dressing this way because my father hated it. They didn’t care that I was born with this cotton top and no matter how many times I tried to dye it, it only faded back out in a matter of days. They didn’t care at all.

  They cared about the way my double digit hips swayed when I strutted to the bar for another drink. They cared about how many of those drinks it would take before I was ready to discard said crazy dress that didn’t match my shoes. Confidence wasn’t the issue. I could walk in a bar and out with a guy any night of the week, but would I like him? Would my father find out and use it as another excuse to steal my dream from me?

  Sloan slid in the booth across from me, so I would be forced to look at her. “Seriously, Elle, when was the last time you went out on a date?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know…that Christmas bash?”

  “Wait.” Ava held her hands in the air. “I hate to tell you, but falling asleep in the back seat of my car and waking up three hours later to find that weird guy in our English class looking through the window at you isn’t considered a date.”

  I kicked her beneath the table. “Look, Whorella, that was New Year’s.”

  “She’s right, Ava.” Sloan pointed out. “But seriously, Elle, what’s up? Do you have a rule that you can only date on holidays?”

  “It’s not a rule.” I mumbled into my drink about their meddling. My dating life was pathetic without their reminders. I didn’t want tree bark boy. Or fratastic boy. Or look-at-me-I-have-tattoos boy. I wanted my nerd. “It just tends to happen that way.”

  “It tends to happen that way because you haven’t embraced your college dating goddess.” Ava explained it like she was some astute scholar on my libido. “And on the holidays you finally put your books and your standards down and let yourself have fun.”

  “Good point.” Sloan agreed too easily, which meant they were about to team up on me. Sloan tapped her chin while she considered her options. “If you’re going to be so intent on forgoing all the bar guys, then we have to work on your nerd issues. I think all we need to do is get our little Elle here hopped up on the
magic juice and shove her in the direction of the library.”

  “That is the surefire way to get Elle loosened up. A shot or two of tequila and you’ll talk to anyone. Even Library Boy.” Ava thought about it and nodded. “Tequila shots at our next study session and the rest will take care of itself.”

  They sat smiling at each other like they had solved some difficult equation. I thought about screaming at them. I was in a screaming, pull some hair out, all out catfight kind of mood, but another option crossed my mind. A better, more satisfying, option. At that very moment, walking directly toward us, was Cowboy Joe. Sloan was right about at least one thing. That boy wore some tight pants.

  Preston slowly walked over to our table. His soft, brown hair was combed and perfectly placed. His pressed shirt was tucked in his jeans to showcase the extra large and extra shiny belt buckle.

  “Miss Sloan.” He smiled down at her and then turned to Ava and me. “Ladies. Can I get you anything else?”

  I grinned to myself. Sloan was predictable. Good ol’ predictable Sloan. I waited until she was about to open her mouth and then I let mine drop open. “Sloan! Stop staring at his crotch. I mean, he’s looking right at you.”

  Sloan’s eyes widened. I was positive of her next action. Her gaze was on his crotch as soon as he looked down. I leaned back in my seat and took another sip of my coffee.

  Score one point for Eloise.

  Sloan nearly killed me. Of course, she waited until we were safely outside, away from the still blushing Cowboy Joe. The only reason I survived was because I got a head start and there was no way she would ruin her new pair of hoochie boots to catch me.

  Silly little pixie.

  I stopped at the crosswalk down the street and waited for her. The wind blew her long black hair around her head like a slutty Medusa. “You’ll pay for that, Duncan. You just wait. When we get to the pub tomorrow night, I will give out your number to every male in that building.”

  I winced, not because of her threat. It wouldn’t be the first time she randomly handed my number out to strange guys. I forgot to tell them about the change in my schedule. “Yeah, about Friday nights…”

  Ava immediately straightened up. “You’re going with us, Elle. You promised. It’s the only place outside of the baseball field where I might actually get an opportunity to run into Brad.”

  I shrunk down an inch. “Well, you see, I might have gotten kicked out of my normal anatomy class, and I had to get switched into a new section.”

  They both rounded on me. “What? How did you get kicked out?”

  “It’s a long story.” The phone in my backpack started to buzz. It would be my dad for the third time today. A constant reminder of my never ending failures. If my dad found out I got kicked out of a class, he’d probably make me transfer mid-semester. If he found out that it was because of my obsession with Library Boy… “The point is…Friday nights at Rowdy Randy’s are no longer an option for me. I have class.”

  Ava deflated and I somehow felt even more guilty. I tried to smile reassuringly at her. “The good news is I made enough extra money to buy season tickets to baseball. I’ll be there at every game with you.”

  Ava’s brows pinched together. “Darn right, you’ll be there every game.”

  I placed my hands on her shoulders then gave her a quick hug. “I’m sorry, Ava. I didn’t mean to screw up our plans.”

  She sighed. That was the thing about Ava—she was the most forgiving person on the planet. “It’ll be fine.”

  I looked over at Sloan. She scowled at me. “I’m still giving your number out. So, I wouldn’t keep my phone on in class if I were you.”

  I hugged her too. Sloan’s shell was a little tougher than Ava’s, but even the queen bee of grudges couldn’t resist a bear hug. Sloan hugged me back because she knew I hated it. “I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into my hair.

  “And I’m still not sorry, so it’s okay.”

  She shoved me away from her, but she laughed. “So, where are you going now?”

  “You mean after we go spend all our money on baseball tickets? I’m going to the library to study.”

  Ava eyed me, wiggling her eyebrow suggestively. “To actually study, or study?”

  I smiled. “To actually study. I’ll have a quiz tomorrow night in my new anatomy class. I have to be ready for it.”

  Sloan sighed, disappointed. “Fine. Let’s go buy our tickets so you can go be smarty pants.”

  I curtsied. “Thank you for your kind consideration, your highness.”

  She knocked her elbow with mine then linked our arms together. “You’re welcome.”

  We walked like that down the street, arms intertwined. Ava and Sloan didn’t realize what their small gestures meant to me. Their friendship kept me going, even as my phone continued to buzz in my backpack. I no longer felt the panic and stress like I did before. With them by my side, I would survive. I would find a way to pass and keep this small form of independence.

  I wouldn’t go back home.

  Ever.

  Chapter Four

  THE PLAN

  I was going to fail anatomy. I had never, in my entire life, failed a class. I’d skipped class, bullshitted my way through a class, but never failed. In fact, I had never even made less than a B before. My afternoon study session did nothing but reveal to me exactly how big of a slacker I’d been the past couple of weeks. I felt like I was walking around with a giant flashing F over my head all day and everyone could see it. I grabbed an early dinner on campus then went back to the library for another round. This time I was on a mission. Mission impossible. Eloise Duncan was going to go to the library to actually study two times in one day. Someone alert the media.

  Bypassing my usual nerd stalking spot was by the far the hardest thing I’d ever done. It was easier earlier today because in the back of my mind I knew he was never at the library right after lunch on Thursday. But Thursday afternoons…he’d be there. He’d be sitting there in all his beautiful, nerdy, chemistry-loving goodness.

  Would he have on a tie again?

  A comic shirt?

  Which one? Would the color match his eyes?

  I paused at the stairwell to pout. Responsibility and maturity were really ruining my life. I found a small table in the corner of the basement that appeared nice and quiet. Normally, I liked quiet. Today, though, I wished silence was a real person so I could scowl at them. And maybe punch them in the throat.

  There were only a couple people in the small space of the basement, all of them very low on the Eloise-type scale. There was a guy in the corner whose face you couldn’t see because he was asleep behind his fort of text books, and two other guys at the couch in the corner that walked straight out of a Dungeons and Dragons game. The one on the left was an elf. I’d bet money on it.

  I found a table in the corner and pulled out a three feet by three feet poster of a skeleton and taped it up on the wall next to me. I would know every major bone on this anorexic heathen before I left this spot if it killed me. I turned my chair around so I could see nothing but the poster on the wall and stared at the skeleton. Each individual bone and the elaborate and ridiculous names next to them. Two point two seconds later boredom swallowed me whole.

  I was suddenly hungry, my stomach growling and roaring, and I needed to pee. I could definitely feel a distinct ache in my bladder region. It was too hot and my tights retracted tight around my hips. Images of undone chores filed through my head, and I actually considered going home to do laundry. My face fell hopelessly into my hands.

  How would I ever make this interesting enough so that I would focus?

  I glanced at the skeleton again, which was actually more like a menacing grimace that could have caught it on fire, and it was then I realized my problem. I still hadn’t gotten over the disappointment of bypassing my usual table upstairs. Because that was the biggest distraction of all. The temptation. One peek just to see if he was there.

  Inspiration hit me.
>
  I pulled out a Sharpie from my binder and popped off the lid. I drew a pair of black glasses around the eyes of the skeleton. I leaned back and admired my artwork.

  Well, at least now it was a sexy boring skeleton. That was an improvement.

  My gaze narrowed at the skeleton and I concentrated.

  F-I-B-U-L-A…the big one.

  Ugh. It was useless. There was only one scrawny creature I cared about memorizing right now, and he was upstairs. I fell back in my seat and tried to approach this from an angle fit for a crazy person. I closed my eyes and pictured my geek god. I imagined myself stepping up to him and taking his shirt off. I ran my hand slowly and precisely down his arm.

  “Humerus. Radius. Ulna.”

  I opened my eyes and smiled. This could work. I closed my eyes and took off his pants. “Femur. Fibula. Tibia.”

  Oh, yeah…this could work.

  “Mom,” a voice groaned from behind me, “I’m not starving. I know I can’t cook, but I do know how to order food.”

  I spun around to inform the rude bastard that I was trying to study when my tongue got stuck in my throat. Standing behind me on a step stool, reaching up for a book, was nerd perfect. He had his cell phone to his ear and one hand stretched up above his head.

  I couldn’t see his face, but I could recognize that glorious backside anywhere. His Green Lantern shirt jerked up with the motion, revealing the faint sign of black boxer shorts and…abs.

  Library Boy had abs? The shirt fell back down and I quickly spun back around and tried to suppress the drool at that statistical unlikelihood.

  “Yes, I know I could live off cupcakes, but I’m not just eating junk food, okay?”

  I turned my head to the side slightly, watching him walk back down the aisle with his new book, still chatting away. I shot a sympathetic smile back to my skeleton and shook my head. “Sorry, Bones, but he’s still got you beat.”