Summer of the Geek

by Piper Banks

Big surprise, I thought.

  “Well, I personally couldn’t date someone who hadn’t read the Harry Potter series,” Charlie said. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she had a stubborn expression on her face. “But that’s just me.”

  “Has Lukey-boy read them?” Finn asked slyly.

  “First of all, don’t call him that. His name is Luke,” Charlie said haughtily. “And second, although we haven’t talked about it, I’m sure he has.”

  “Call and ask him,” Finn said.

  “What?” Charlie looked taken aback.

  “Call and ask him.” Finn pushed his cell phone across the table to her. “Here, you can use my phone.”

  “No, thanks,” Charlie said.

  “Why not? Scared what you might find out?” Finn asked.

  “No. But I also don’t want to insult him by quizzing him about his reading habits,” Charlie said.

  “Bok bok,” Finn clucked.

  “Oh my God. You’ve officially regressed to the age of seven,” Charlie said, shaking her head in disbelief.

  I decided it was time to break in on the lovefest, before it came to blows.

  “I have some news,” I said. “My dad bought me a car!”

  It worked. The magnitude of my announcement caused Finn and Charlie to stop sniping at each other and turn to stare at me.

  “Are you serious?” Charlie said. “That’s so cool!”

  “A new car?” Finn asked.

  “Not exactly,” I admitted. “It’s a new-to-me car.”

  “Can we see it?” Charlie asked.

  “Sure. I parked out front. But I think I should warn you—it’s yellow,” I said.

  “So?” Finn asked.

  “It’s very yellow,” I said. “Very, very yellow.”

  Two minutes later, the three of us were standing outside Grounded, staring at my new car.

  “The color’s not that bad,” Charlie said, in a lame attempt to be supportive.

  Finn didn’t even bother trying.

  “This car makes my life,” he said, standing with his hands stretched out in front of him, fingers spread. “If I died this moment, I would go out a happy man.”

  “It’s bad, right?” I said worriedly. “I know it’s a car, and any car is better than no car. But even so, it’s still bad, right?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s awesome,” Finn said gleefully. He ran a finger down the hood. “The racing stripes are just the best. I think I have to own this car. How much do you want for it, M?”

  Could I sell it? I wondered. Finn could certainly afford it. He was a self-made millionaire, after all. And it would solve my ugly car dilemma. I could use the proceeds to buy a normal-looking car. But then I quickly decided that, no, I really couldn’t do that. It would hurt my dad’s feelings.

  “I can’t sell it,” I said with a sigh.

  “You have to! I’ll give you ten thousand for it! No, twenty!” Finn announced.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Well, no,” Finn conceded. “But I will give you five hundred. And this Pez dispenser.” He held up a Pez dispenser with a Tweety Bird on top. “It’s vintage.”

  “No sale,” I said, waving away the Tweety. And a vintage candy dispenser? Gross. “Do you guys want to go for a ride?”

  “Shotgun,” Finn said automatically.

  Charlie gave him a withering look while he bounded around the car and hopped into the passenger side. “Does he have to be such an idiot all the time?” she remarked.

  I just raised my eyebrows at her.

  “I know, I know,” Charlie said with a sigh. “What can I do? I can’t help it.”

  “Next year should be pretty interesting,” I said. “Come on, hop in.”

  Epilogue

  Four Weeks Later

  “I can’t believe you’re actually leaving tomorrow,” I said.

  “I know. The summer went by way too fast,” Dex said.

  We were sitting on a picnic table at a park that overlooked the Intracoastal Waterway. There was a playground nearby, although it was deserted now that it was past eight and the sun was setting. Over the water, the sky was a hazy smudged purple, ribboned with shots of orange.

  “Are you all packed and ready to go?” I asked.

  “I’m packed,” Dex said. “I’m just not so sure about the ready-to-go part.”

  “I’m sure you’ll love it there,” I said.

  “And if I don’t, I can always come home,” Dex said.

  “I don’t think you should go into it thinking that way. It might be hard at first. But once you adjust, I’m sure you’ll be really happy.”

  “I hope so,” Dex said. He flexed his hand and then drew it into a fist.

  I reached out and took his fisted hand in mine. His hand instantly relaxed as we knitted our fingers together. “Don’t worry,” I said softly. “Everything will be fine.”

  “And we’ll talk every day,” Dex said.

  “We’ll e-mail, too.”

  “You’ll tell me all about what’s going on here.”

  “I will,” I promised. “And Hannah will keep me up to date on all of the Orange Cove High news, so I’ll be able to pass that on to you, too.”

  “Good,” Dex said. “It’ll be nice to hear what’s going on. Even if it has a uniquely Hannahesque perspective.”

  The sun was sinking lower in the sky. The light began to fade into the soft darkness of twilight. The cicadas chirped around us, hidden in their treetop haunts. I wanted to hold on to this moment—to make the sun still on the horizon, to keep the next day from dawning—even though I knew it was impossible.

  “I don’t want to say good-bye,” I said. A lump lodged in my throat.

  “I don’t, either,” Dex said. His hand was firm against mine. “So let’s not say good-bye.”

  I could feel a sob tearing in my chest. “What do you mean?”

  “We’ll just say, see you later, like we always do. And it will be true. We will see each other later,” Dex said.

  I took in a deep breath, pushing the sob back down before it could break free.

  “I have something I need to tell you,” I said.

  “Okay. Wait, no, let me guess: You’re really a superhero with incredible powers who was sent to Earth from a faraway planet to be raised by adoptive parents and eventually save the world from being attacked by an evil race of aliens set on taking over the planet?” Dex asked.

  I laughed. “No.”

  Dex snapped his fingers. “Darn.”

  I braced myself for the words I knew I had to say out loud, no matter how painful they’d be to both him and me.

  “I just wanted to say . . . I know we already talked about this . . . but I think maybe we were wrong. Maybe we should break up after all,” I said.

  Dex stilled beside me, although he didn’t release my hand. His fingers were warm and strong, interlaced with mine. He smelled so good, like soap and lingering chlorine from the pool. I wanted to lean closer and inhale the scent of him, memorizing it for when he was gone.

  “It’s not that I want to,” I said quickly. “Because I don’t. But I also don’t want you to feel that you’re tied down here, when you’re starting a new life up there. It’s not fair to you.”

  Dex breathed in deeply, and then sighed on the exhale. “What if I want to be tied down here?”

  “I know that’s how you feel now, but you might feel differently in time,” I said.

  “I won’t,” Dex said in a voice that was soft yet fierce.

  “You might.”

  “No.”

  I felt a squeeze of pleasure, but then reminded myself that it was my job to convince him. He was the bird I had to free.

  “What if I said I want to break up?” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t believe you,” Dex said. “You’d just be saying that because you think it’s better for me.”

  “Well, isn’t it?”

  Dex turned to look at me. Even through the darkening sky, I could make out the exasp
eration and affection in his pale-eyed gaze. “Miranda. Don’t you think I should get to make that decision? About what’s right for me? What’s best for me?”

  My lips twitched up into a half smile. “No.”

  “No?”

  “You’d stick with me because you thought it was the right thing to do. Even if your heart was somewhere else,” I explained.

  “My heart is right here,” Dex said. He tapped my chest, just over where my heart was thumping away.

  “Will you at least think about it?” I asked.

  “No,” Dex said. “Like it or not, I’m yours. No matter where I am. No matter where you are.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  Dex nodded. He held my hand up to his lips and kissed the knuckles. “I’m sure,” he said.

  And then he leaned forward, cupping one hand behind my neck, and kissed me. It was the perfect kiss. Sweet and warm, it caused my entire body to feel as though it had turned to liquid. In the tiny part of my brain that was still able to form thoughts, I realized that this was a kiss I would remember for a long, long time.

  Dex drew back, his lips inches from mine.

  “See you later,” he said softly.

  “See you later,” I said.

  About the Author

  Piper Banks lives in South Florida with her husband, son, and smelly pug dog. You can visit her Web site at www.piperbanks.com.