Courting the Nerd

by RH Tucker

  “X-Men?” she asks, and her friendly expression starts to vanish.

  “Yeah. You know, Wolverine? Cyclops? Magneto?”

  “Of course, I’ve heard of X-Men,” she says, rolling her eyes yet again.

  I can’t contain my chuckle. “Xavier Institute? As in, Professor Xavier. Professor X? Ringing any bells?”

  Her face drops. She looks away as Greg steps over to us.

  “Okay, feet forward,” he instructs, and starts to tie my left leg and her right leg together.

  “It’s okay, Nat. I’ll get you a couple issues of the comics if you want.”

  She scoffs. “Whatever.”

  “Okay,” Greg calls out to everyone. Giving us a countdown, he blows a whistle, and we all take off.

  Natalie’s arm keeps brushing against mine, and it’s distracting. I look around, seeing every other couple, and they have their arms around one another. I know no court couple is dating so it must be to help keep their balance, which makes sense. But I don’t want to put my arm around her only to have her recoil and let out some type of disgusted groan. And she seems to be trying to keep from touching me at all.

  Izzy and Matt take a tumble behind us, and in front of us is Sarah Donavan and her court couple, Bret. Yvette and Oscar are also in front of us. We turn around a small cone that’s been set up, and we almost lose our balance. In front of us, Yvette yelps, and Oscar grabs her hand, laughing, keeping her from falling.

  I’m not paying attention to where I’m walking and almost trip. Natalie seems to recoil, hoping to avoid my arm, but I grab her hand anyways, keeping myself upright. “Yeah, thanks for the support.”

  “Sorry,” she grimaces.

  As she says it, her leg tries to take a step, but it’s out of sync with mine, and she starts to fall forward. I grab her arm again and keep her from falling. “Oh, for crying out loud, come here!”

  Her head snaps to the side, and her eyes meet mine. I’m not sure if she’s upset by my words or caught off guard from my tone, but we’re in third place and not far behind the other two couples. We could actually win the race.

  I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer. Her arm instinctively does the same, and with our sides closer, we’re able to keep our feet better in sync. We turn around another cone set up, and I see my friends cheering for us from the side.

  Natalie smells good. And the red shirt she’s wearing comes down to just above her waist, so I try not to think about it, but every time we take a step her shirt moves and my hand around her waist touches her skin. I’m hoping my palms aren’t sweating as we pass by Matt and Izzy, tangled up on the ground once again.

  “Wow, I guess I got the more coordinated nerd,” Natalie says, laughing. Her eyes meet mine and the laughing stops. She looks away, embarrassed.

  It’s with that comment that I’m quickly brought back to reality. In what world would I have a chance with a girl like Natalie Frazier? Certainly not the one I’m living in.

  My sudden dose of reality morphs into real annoyance as a group of her friends stands off to the side. “Nat, don’t let the geek slow you down!” one calls out.

  That does it. We’re walking hurriedly in sync still, when I suddenly keep my leg that’s tied to hers from moving. She goes to take a step but can’t and starts to lose her balance. I grab her hand and hold onto her just long enough, so she doesn’t hit the ground very hard, and then I fall down myself.

  “You jerk!” she yells at me. “You did that on purpose.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, putting my arms on my knees.

  “Well, get up! Don’t just sit there.” She tugs at my leg.

  “I can’t. I lost my equilibrium.”

  “Your equilibrium?” She curls a lip.

  “Yes. Or do you need me to explain that one to you, too?”

  “Come hell or high water, I’m going to be class valedictorian, so no I don’t need you to explain anything to me, except maybe your stupid, nerdy, comic book references.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Get. Up,” she growls through clenched teeth.

  I watch Matt and Izzy talking to one another as Jen and Franco pass us, followed closely by Sarah and Bret. When they’ve passed us, too, I finally start to get up.

  “And the winners are,” Greg calls out, “Yvette and Oscar. And second place goes to Jen and Franco.”

  “Damn it!” Natalie yells. “I could’ve used those points. You may not—”

  Stopping herself, she looks around. I raise an eyebrow, daring her to finish. Being the joke vote for prom court is technically supposed to be a secret. The faculty doesn’t approve of the joke votes, so all of the students keep it hush-hush.

  “You may not care about being prom king,” she corrects herself, still staring, “but I do care about trying to be prom queen.”

  “Of course you do,” I say dryly. “I’ll try to make this week as painless as possible for you, Your Highness. Wouldn’t want a possible prom queen to be tainted with the appearance of a chess-loving nerd to ruin your chances.”

  Bending over, I untie our legs. When I stand back up, there’s a redness creeping up her neck and cheeks. She’s biting her lip nervously. I don’t care if she feels bad or embarrassed. It’s just a stupid joke vote anyway.

  Chapter 4

  Natalie

  Sam comes off as so introverted and shy that our entire three-legged race took me aback. He took charge. Wrapping his arm around me forced me to wrap mine around him, and I was surprised at how firm he felt. Doing debate and playing chess rather than any school sports, I expected to feel a boney nerd, not someone who if I saw without a shirt, might have some muscle built up underneath. But most of all, I can’t stop my embarrassment every time I hear Emily, or myself for that matter, call him a nerd or geek. I mean, he is that, so I shouldn’t feel bad about it. But I do. Because she’s not using it as just a way to describe him, she’s using it as an insult. A put-down. And even if we run in different circles and have only said a handful of words to each other—mostly due to some kind of class assignment over the years—he still seems like a nice guy.

  So, while I’m not happy about it, I totally understand why he gets upset and intentionally ruins the three-legged race for us.

  After he unties our legs, I walk over to Emily, who’s standing next to Mia. “Hey.” I glance around. “Did Dustin show up?”

  “He was here for a minute,” Mia answers, “but took off after the first lap.”

  “Oh.” I don’t want to sound disappointed, but I can’t help it.

  “How gross was that?” Emily asks.

  “What?”

  She motions to across the courtyard. “Hugging up to boney, master-debater over there.”

  Turning around, I see Sam looking over at us, standing next to his friends. He scowls again, and I know he heard her.

  “Em, shut up.” I flash her an annoyed glare.

  “What?” She looks back at me, clueless.

  “You’re so loud. He can hear you, you know?”

  Emily looks at Mia like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Mia doesn’t respond one way or another. “Nat, you can’t be serious. Who cares if he hears? I’m sure he’s heard worse. And it’s not like he doesn’t know exactly what he is.”

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes and walk away.

  “Hey, wait up,” Mia calls out. I don’t stop walking, but she catches up. Emily doesn’t follow. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  I look over at her as I continue to walk to my next class. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s just … he’s a person, you know? I know he’s a nerd. He knows he’s a nerd. We all know he’s the joke vote, but I know none of that has gone over his head. I mean, when Emily shouted that geek thing during the race, he looked upset. And hurt.”

  “Yeah, that was a little over the top. But you know Emily.”

  “Yeah, I do. But that doesn’t mean I agree with i
t. Plus, I thought Dustin would’ve been out here. I’m starting to think he’s not going to ask me. After today, we only have three days until prom.”

  “Why don’t you just ask him? Put it out there, girl.”

  “I don’t know,” I answer, gazing at the ground as I continue to walk.

  I know she might be right. There’s no rule saying I have to wait for him to ask me, but I really thought he would have by now. I was hoping for some kind of promposal, but it seems a bit late for that. I still want him to ask me though. I want this senior prom to feel special.

  The next day I make my way over to the cafeteria during lunch for our next prom-week event: a whipped cream pie eating contest. I’m walking with Mia, when Sarah and Yvette come alongside us.

  “Okay, Nat,” Yvette starts. “We need to win this thing. Every girl gets five extra votes for queen if we do.”

  “Oh, now you want me to play the game,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Why the hell did you guys pair me up with Sam?” The words come out harsher than I mean them to, but I don’t care. “I know he’s the joke vote. Everyone knows he is. And we all know Izzy Jacobs is, too. The joke votes always get paired together.”

  “I know, I know,” she replies, shaking her head. “But it was Matt’s idea.”

  “Oh, he’s got a thing for the nerd girl?”

  “Ugh, don’t even, Nat. Look, I know you want to be prom queen, but we all do. That includes me. I’m sorry, but if I have to sacrifice you by pairing you up with Sam, you better believe your ass I’m going to do it. It was the only way to make the lame YouTube nerd seem like one of us and not some geek savior to the masses. You may want to be prom queen this year, but I will be prom queen.”

  I stop walking and stare at her. Mia stays beside me, but Yvette and Sarah keep walking.

  “I guess we know where we really stand with her, huh?” Mia whispers to me.

  “I guess so,” I answer, starting to walk again. “I never thought I’d be on the tail end of one of Yvette’s power trips.” I start to giggle.

  “What?”

  “I’ve heard people call her a bitch, but I never saw it. Now I do.” Mia laughs along as we make our way to the table, where Greg’s going over the pie eating contest rules.

  It’s guys versus girls, and the team that wins gets the points. Starting the match is Yvette for the girls and Oscar for the boys. We have to eat an entire plate of whipped cream without using our hands, then chew a piece of bubble gum that’s underneath the cream. The next person in line can only start on their plate once the previous person has blown a bubble.

  I’m next to Yvette, and Sam is sitting right in front of me.

  “Okay, Nat,” Sam says as we wait for Greg to blow the whistle to start. “Do you think Your Highness can handle getting a little dirty?”

  He’s smiling, and I know he’s just joking, but I’m still pissed off at Yvette for what she said. Plus, her constant whispers to all of us on the girls’ side, threatening us all to do our best so we can win, are adding to my anger. So, I don’t realize how rude I sound when I reply back, “Just shut up and eat your pie.”

  Sam flinches then rolls his eyes at me.

  “Let’s go, Sammy!” one of his friends calls out behind him.

  It’s a guy and a girl and they’re both clapping for him. He smiles back and then turns to face his pie. I look around and see Mia, but Emily and Dustin aren’t anywhere to be found. Meeting Mia’s eyes, I mouth, ‘Where’s Emily?’

  She shrugs.

  “Okay, on your mark,” Greg calls out, holding a whistle in front of his mouth. “Get set …” He blows the whistle and Yvette and Oscar dive into their plates of cream.

  A crowd of students has formed around the table, and everyone starts cheering them on. All the guys, even Sam, are cheering on Oscar to finish his plate. On our side, I’m probably the quietest of the group of girls cheering on Yvette, Sarah being the loudest.

  Oscar reaches his piece of gum first and blows his bubble. It pops, and Sam dives into his plate, complete disregard for his face and glasses, the whipped cream splashing to the sides. Oscar is to one side, Bret to his other, and both of them are cheering him on. I have to smile because he’s having fun, and no one at the table is making some stupid comment or teasing him.

  “Go!” Yvette screams at me through a face covered in whipped cream.

  I start eating the whipped cream, and I can hear Mia in the background, spurring me on. I glance up and see Bret already starting on his plate. Sam must’ve finished his already. But Sam’s laughing and smiling at me, and surprisingly, cheering me on, too.

  “Let’s go, Nat! Go, go!”

  I laugh again and finally finish the plate, reaching the bubble gum. I start chewing and see that Bret is chewing his piece already.

  “Hurry!” Yvette screams, and it’s so harsh that I flinch. I blow the bubble, but Bret’s already blown his and Matt is halfway through his pie as Sarah is just beginning to start on hers.

  Yvette’s still yelling, and I lift my shoulder to my ear, trying to block some of her vitriol as she shouts at Sarah next to me. I know she wants to be prom queen, which must be why she seems to be the only one taking this fun little competition as life or death stakes, while the rest of us are having fun with it.

  Sam encourages Matt to keep going and then flashes me a look. He’s got whipped cream everywhere—his face, his hair, his shirt—but through the cream, he smiles, and it makes me laugh. I look back and see Sarah finish blowing her bubble. Izzy dives into her plate, but at the end of the boys’ side, Franco is already eating his plate of cream. I’m pretty sure there’s no way we’re going to catch up, and we don’t, as Greg blows the whistle again as soon as Franco blows his bubble.

  “And the winners are,” Greg calls out, “the boys’ team!”

  All of the guys cheer for themselves. Izzy’s laughing and even Sarah is giggling, while Yvette stews beside me. Mia walks over to my side of the table.

  “Bummer,” she says.

  “Yeah. Hey, did Emily and Dustin show up?”

  She frowns. “No. I’m not sure where they are.”

  “Oh.” I try not to sound too sad about it, but it hurts. I look over at Sam, who’s standing now, wiping off whipped cream from his face as his friends laugh next to him. I don’t know if the girl is his girlfriend, but she’s smiling, and then wipes a portion of whipped cream off his chin, before slapping him in the forehead with it.

  I reach for a towel that Greg put on the table when Yvette snags the last one.

  “Seriously?” I scowl at her.

  “What?” She stares back.

  “I’ll go grab some paper towels from the girls’ bathroom,” Mia says.

  She takes off, and I wipe some of the cream off my forehead, frustration starting to build inside again. Sam walks over to me and offers me his towel.

  “Here,” he says, extending his arm.

  “Oh, that’s okay.”

  “Natalie, take it.” His arm stays extended, and I grab it.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Your Highness,” he replies. “You have to admit, that was a little fun.”

  “Yeah, it was okay.”

  “I saw you smiling for a second there. I didn’t know if you were going to smile this entire week.”

  A ball of guilt lodges in my throat. Have I been that rude to him? “Sam, I’m sorry. This whole thing just took me by surprise. I mean, the joke votes usually get paired toge—” My words cut off as he looks away. “Sorry.”

  He chuckles to himself. “No, no. I get it. I guess we were both surprised. I got paired with a popular and smart girl, while you got a chess nerd.”

  “Oh, please don’t say it that way. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant— Wait, what? You think I’m popular and smart?”

  “Please, you can’t tell me you don’t think you are.”

  “No, I know I am, it’
s just—”

  “Wow, self-centered much?”

  I gasp and feel my cheeks get hot. “Oh my God. I so didn’t mean it like that.” I hand him back the towel. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says with a chuckle. “You missed a spot.”

  Reaching over, he wipes some whipped cream off my cheek. His hair is disheveled, completely opposite of his normal parted to the side, Clark Kent look. His shirt is damp from the cream soaking through, and it confirms my suspicion yesterday that he actually has some muscle under his clothes. If he didn’t have his thick-rimmed glasses, which have little spots of whipped cream still on them, he’d actually look pretty hot.

  “Thanks,” I say again, still feeling my face red.

  “Oh, you missed another.” This time he licks his thumb like a mother would do with a baby and motions it to my cheek.

  “Ew, gross.” I push his hand away, laughing, and he smiles at me.

  Mia comes back, handing me a handful of paper towels. “Here you go.”

  “See ya tomorrow,” Sam says and turns around, walking toward his friends.

  “What was that about?” Mia whispers to me, as I watch Sam walk away.

  “Nothing,” I answer, looking back at her. “Any word on Emily? She said she was going to be out here today.”

  “I got a text while I was getting the paper towels. I guess she ditched the rest of the day.”

  “Seriously?”

  Mia lifts her shoulders. I try not to let the annoyance build up, but it still comes. “I can’t believe she did that. She has her last two classes of the day with Dustin. I was hoping she’d try to nudge him in my direction.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, girly. Logan said Dustin ditched, too.”

  I let out a sigh. “Whatever. Maybe I should just ask him tomorrow when I see him.”

  “Might be the safest thing to do. I don’t know what’s taking him so long, but if you want him, you should just go get him.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, but I feel defeated. I guess my promposal dreams are gone with the wind. But maybe I can’t still get the date I want.