Revenge of the Geek

by Piper Banks

  I nodded. “Actually, I can’t wait. I’m on the staff of The Ampersand this year.” The Ampersand was Geek High’s award-winning magazine. I’d secured a coveted writer’s spot on the magazine at the end of my sophomore year. “How about you?”

  “Yeah, I’m ready to get back, too. I came up with a great idea for the science fair. I’m hoping to go back to nationals this year,” Emmett said. Emmett had won the state science fair every year that he had entered. His sophomore year, he’d placed second in nationals for developing a system for purifying water in developing countries. “I’m working on a new way to power cars with solar energy,” he continued. “The technology has been out for a while, but no one’s perfected it.”

  “Wow. That would be amazing,” I said, impressed.

  “I just need to figure out how I’m going to construct the canopy, and how the solar cells will be set up,” Emmett said.

  It was Hannah’s turn to roll her eyes. “Only Geek High students would be looking forward to school. I wish summer vacation would last forever,” she said. She checked her watch. “The movie’s going to start soon. We should probably head over to the theater.”

  “Let me just finish my burger first,” I said, taking another large bite and following it with a slurp of chocolate shake.

  Hannah wrinkled her nose. “I thought you said you lost your appetite.”

  I shrugged. “I have to get my energy back after all that shopping,” I said, popping a fry into my mouth.

  Chapter Two

  I parked my ugly yellow car in the student lot behind Geek High, hoping no one would see me. While I very much appreciated the car, which my dad had given me at the end of the summer, there was no getting around it: the car was truly hideous. It was short, stubby, and neon yellow, with amateurishly painted black racing stripes down the sides. Still, an ugly car was better than no car at all, and it was a nice, freeing feeling to be able to drive myself to school for the very first time.

  Grabbing my backpack, I climbed out of my car and shut the door. The locks on the driver’s-side door didn’t work, but I didn’t think there was any danger of anyone stealing it.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  I cringed. I recognized the voice even before I turned to face Felicity Glen. She was the person I had most wanted to avoid, so it figured that she’d be the first person I’d run into.

  “Is that your car?” Felicity asked, hooting with laughter.

  I squared my shoulders and turned to face her. Felicity was annoyingly pretty. She was petite, with fine bones, dark brown hair, and catlike green eyes. Her full lips were curved in an evil smile as she looked from me to the yellow car and back again.

  “As a matter of fact, it is,” I said, trying for an air of breezy indifference.

  “That is the ugliest car I have ever seen,” Felicity said.

  “Why do you think your opinion would mean anything to me?” I asked.

  “You’re going to pretend you like driving that thing?” Felicity asked, tossing her hair back over her shoulders. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in it.”

  “I guess I’m just not as superficial as you are,” I said.

  “That’s for sure,” Felicity said. “Just look at the way you—”

  I knew she was about to say dress, but then she looked me up and down and a frown darkened her face. I was wearing a navy and white striped tank top that tied behind my neck with my new khaki cargo miniskirt. The tank top on its own wasn’t strictly dress code compliant, so I’d brought a cotton navy cardigan to wear over it for when I got out of the heat. Hannah, of course, had helped me pick out my outfit for the first day of school. Actually, it had been a little insulting, as Hannah had insisted on not only selecting my clothes, but then actually laying them out on the floor with accessories—a trio of silver bangles and a necklace with a bird-shaped pendant—so that I wouldn’t make any mistakes while dressing.

  I’d always thought that there wasn’t any point in getting all dressed up just to go sit in a classroom all day. But I had to admit, it felt pretty good to silence Felicity Glen.

  “What were you going to say?” I asked sweetly. “Something about the way I dress?”

  “Whatever. I don’t have time to stand around talking to you all day,” Felicity said, turning away. “And your car is hideous!”

  I laughed at her departing back.

  “Should I be worried that you’re standing here by yourself, laughing?” Charlie asked, appearing beside me. “You’re not having a nervous breakdown, are you?”

  Charlie was one of my best friends. She was thin and her short, spiky hair was bright green. Today, she was wearing a purple tunic with a pink satin skirt over a black tulle underskirt. Somehow, Charlie managed to make it all look incredibly stylish.

  “Green?” I asked. The last time I’d seen her—two days ago—her hair had been Strawberry Shortcake red.

  “I thought I’d shake things up for the first day of school,” Charlie explained. “So, are you having a nervous breakdown?”

  “No,” I said. “Just enjoying giving Felicity a smack down, thanks to my awesome new fashion skills.”

  Charlie looked me over. “You are looking especially cute this morning. Did Hannah dress you?”

  “No, I dressed myself, thank you very much,” I said.

  “But she picked out your clothes, right?”

  “Do you really have so little faith in my fashion sense?”

  “Yes,” Charlie said.

  “Thanks a lot,” I said.

  “You’re the one who always says you were born without a fashion gene,” Charlie said, shrugging. “Have you seen Finn yet?”

  Charlie’s tone was casual, but I knew better. Finn was our other best friend. Over the summer, Charlie had finally admitted to me what I’d long suspected—that she had feelings for Finn that went beyond friendship. I’d had reason to believe that Finn had similar feelings for Charlie. But it was a case of bad timing—Finn currently had a girlfriend, Phoebe McLeod, who was in Hannah’s class at Orange Cove High. He was also oblivious to Charlie’s feelings for him. I’d advised Charlie to just tell Finn how she felt about him, but so far she’d refused to do so. She was convinced that if she told Finn she had feelings for him, things between them would become awkward and strained and eventually ruin their friendship.

  “Not yet,” I said as we walked up the sidewalk, which snaked from the student parking lot around the side of the school. “But I did talk to him briefly last night. He said he has a surprise for us.”

  “Uh-oh,” Charlie said.

  “Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction, too,” I said.

  Finn was very funny and completely brilliant, but he also lacked a moral compass. His idea of a surprise could mean an announcement that he had hacked into the Federal Reserve and transferred ten billion dollars to an offshore account. He was totally capable of doing it—Finn was a computer genius who’d developed several top-selling video games. In a review, a critic had called Finn’s most famous creation, Grunge Aliens, “the most awesomely violent video game ever made.” Finn had been thrilled. Anyway, his series of successful computer games meant that Finn was set for life, and didn’t have to worry about getting into a top college or landing a good job postgraduation. So there was even less incentive for him to stay out of trouble.

  “What do you think he’s done this time?” Charlie asked, as we turned the corner and headed down the walk that led to the front entrance of Geek High.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. “I think I might have an idea.”

  “What?” Charlie asked, also stopping. Then, following my appalled stare, she turned toward the stairs that led up to the front door. Her mouth fell open. “Please tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing.”

  “I would love to. But I’d be lying,” I said.

  Finn stood at the top of the stairs, beaming down at us. He was tall and pale, with light blue eyes and a faint scar over his lip, a remnant from the cleft-lip surgery he’d
had as a baby. His brown hair used to be too long and shaggy. Now the sides were shaved, leaving one single stripe down the center of his head.

  “He has a Mohawk,” Charlie squeaked.

  “Yes, he does. And he looks like an idiot.” I looked at her. “Please tell me this has some effect on your feelings for him.”

  Charlie shrugged helplessly. “I wish I could say it does. But who am I to talk? I have green hair.”

  “But you could dye your hair back to a normal color tonight if you wanted to. He’s stuck with that ridiculous look until it grows in,” I protested.

  Finn took the stairs two at a time and jogged out to meet us. “Hey, foxy ladies,” he said. Finn preened, turning his head from side to side to give us the full view. “So? What do you think?”

  “Do you really want to know?” I asked.

  Finn looked hurt. “You don’t like the new look?”

  “No,” Charlie and I said together.

  “Too bad,” Finn crowed. “Because I love it. My head feels so much cooler without all of the hair. And Phoebe thinks I look sexy like this.”

  “That’s because Phoebe’s a few fries short of a Happy Meal,” Charlie muttered under her breath.

  “What’s that? I didn’t hear you,” Finn asked. “Were you commenting on how insanely hot I look?”

  “No,” Charlie said. “I was not.”

  “Because you can totally say that if you want to. Really, please feel free to admire the Mohawk all you want. I’ll even let you touch it,” Finn said, running a hand over his head.

  “I’ll pass,” Charlie said.

  “Miranda? I don’t want you to feel left out,” Finn said.

  “No, thanks, Finn. I don’t want to touch your head,” I said.

  “Suit yourself,” Finn said.

  The three of us turned toward the school, and paused for a moment before heading up the stairs. When Geek High first opened, it occupied a three-story Victorian house with large dormer windows and a gabled roof. But as the school grew, two low, modern wings were added that branched out from either side of the main building. The high school occupied one wing, and the elementary and middle schools the other, while the original central building housed the cafeteria and administrative offices.

  “Another year of pointless torture is upon us,” Finn said sadly.

  “Just think: only two more years before we leave for college,” I said, feeling a bit nostalgic.

  “Only two?” Finn said, snorting.

  “That’s not so long,” Charlie said. “Just imagine how strange it will be when we graduate. I can’t imagine not coming here every day.”

  “I can,” Finn said with a shudder. “I can’t wait to get out of here and out into the real world. And by real world, I mean being able to sleep until noon, play Xbox all day, and eat cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

  “You won’t miss the people? Your friends?” Charlie asked.

  “No way. I’ll be sick of all of you by then,” Finn said cheerfully. “Once we get our diplomas, you’ll never see me again. Unless it’s on the cover of People magazine, when I’m named Sexiest Man Alive.” He winked at me. “That’s one of my life goals.”

  “It’s good to have goals,” I said.

  “Well, if that’s the way you feel and if we really mean so little to you, why bother hanging out with us at all?” Charlie asked testily.

  Finn looked at her, blinking with surprise. “Yeesh. I was just kidding. You know I love you guys.”

  “Whatever.” Charlie looked around and spotted Padma Paswan heading into the school with Emma Cliff. “Hey, Padma! Wait up! I have to talk to you about something. See you later, Miranda.”

  And with a swish of pink satin and black tulle, Charlie turned and jogged up the steps to join Padma and Emma.

  “What was that about?” Finn asked, still looking bewildered. “What did I say?”

  I shrugged. “Not sure,” I lied. “Maybe Charlie’s not a fan of People magazine.”

  As Finn muttered under his breath about how he’d never understand girls, we headed up the stairs and into school together. It really was good to be back at old Geek High after the summer away. It was reassuring the way it never changed, from the stern-faced oil paintings of donors glaring down at us from the walls, to the worn oriental rugs in the front hall, to the large trophy case, which now held the Mu Alpha Theta State Championship trophy my MATh competition team won the previous spring. So much in my life had changed in the past year, what with my mom, Sadie, leaving for London, my moving in with my dad, meeting Dex, falling in love for the first time, and, finally, Dex leaving. It was nice to have something stay the same.

  And then, just as this thought was flitting across my brain, I suddenly saw something different. Actually not something, but someone. A girl walking down the hall. She had mousy brown hair and was wearing a black T-shirt, faded cutoff jeans, black socks, and worn-looking black Doc Martens boots. The school was small, so whenever a new student came in, he or she always stood out. I had a feeling that this girl wouldn’t be happy to know that. She was tall—nearly as tall as me—but walked with her head down and her shoulders slumped forward, as though she were willing herself to become invisible.

  Finn was still ranting about Charlie. “... and I swear she said something mean about Phoebe. I didn’t hear what it was exactly, but I can tell Charlie doesn’t like her. Has she said anything about Phoebe to you?”

  “Look,” I said, poking Finn in the side to get his attention.

  “What?”

  “A new girl,” I said.

  Finn perked up. “A new girl? Where?”

  “Over there. Heading into the high school wing,” I said. “Do you see her? Over there in the black T-shirt.”

  “Oh,” Finn said as he spotted her. From his tone, he was clearly underwhelmed. “Not a hottie.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be a pig,” I said.

  “I can’t help it,” Finn said with an unconcerned shrug. “As a wise man once said, I yam what I yam.”

  “What wise man?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Popeye,” Finn said.

  Chapter Three

  I had Nineteenth-Century American Literature first period. Neither Finn nor Charlie had signed up for the class—Charlie had an extra art period, and Finn’s exact words were, “I’d rather have my eyelashes plucked out one by one”—so I headed to Mrs. Gordon’s classroom alone. Many of the same students who’d been in her Modern Literature class last year had signed up for the class. Padma and Emma were both there, along with Tate Metcalf, Sanjiv Gupta, Christopher Frost, and Tabitha Stone. Unfortunately, Felicity Glen was also in the class, along with her equally annoying best friend, Morgan Simpson.

  The seats, which were arranged in a semicircle, were already mostly full. There was an empty desk next to Felicity, but there was no way I was sitting next to her. I glanced around and spotted an empty seat between Sanjiv and the new girl. I swallowed back a sigh. Sitting next to Sanjiv wasn’t much of an improvement over Felicity—he was a stress case and obsessed with the Mu Alpha Theta competition team—but at least Sanjiv wouldn’t spend the period hurling whispered insults at me. It was an easy choice.

  “Hi, Sanjiv,” I said, sitting down at the empty desk next to his.

  Sanjiv had gotten even taller and ganglier over the summer, and his Adam’s apple had grown more prominent. He pushed his oversized, metal-rimmed glasses up his nose, and said, “Hi, Miranda. The first MATh team meeting is being held this Thursday.”

  Uh-oh, I thought. I knew I was eventually going to have to break the news to Sanjiv that I wasn’t going to be on the Mu Alpha Theta team—MATh for short—this year. I just hadn’t thought I’d have to do it before the first class on the first day of the school year had even begun.

  “Um, actually, I’m not going to be on the MATh team this year,” I said. “Sorry.”

  And I really was sorry. I hadn’t wanted to be on the team the previous year, either—long stor
y, but basically the Geek High headmaster blackmailed me into it—but even so, I had grown fond of my MATh teammates over the year and I was proud that we’d won at State.

  Sanjiv stared at me in horrified disbelief, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously in his throat. “Not be on the team?” he croaked. “But you have to be! We can’t win State again without you!”

  “I just can’t. I’m going to be writing for The Ampersand, which is a really big time commitment,” I said apologetically. “I don’t have any room in my schedule for MATh team.”

  I’d been thrilled when I found out I’d gotten one of the few coveted spots on The Ampersand. In fact, it was the main reason I hadn’t moved to London to live with Sadie this year. My biggest dream was to someday be a writer. And not a writer like my mom, who wrote paperback novels featuring eighteenth-century heroines whose dresses were being pulled off by long-haired cads—not that there was anything wrong with writing to entertain. But I wanted to write something serious, something that would make a difference. I wanted to write the Great American Novel, in the tradition of John Steinbeck, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and J. D. Salinger. And as far as I was concerned, getting published in The Ampersand would be the first step toward this goal. I was hoping that if I got one of my short stories published in our prestigious school magazine, it might help me secure a spot at one of the top college writing programs.

  “This can’t be happening. It can’t. It’s a nightmare. Does Leila know? Does Kyle?” Sanjiv moaned. Kyle and Leila were also on the MATh team, but they weren’t nearly as hard-core about it as Sanjiv. I was fairly sure they wouldn’t take my defection quite as badly as he was taking it.

  “I don’t know,” I said apologetically.

  Sanjiv lapsed into silence, his head on his hands, moaning occasionally. Embarrassed, I looked away. The new girl was sitting quietly on my other side, her laptop out, ready for class to begin. When I glanced over, she was looking in my direction, obviously eavesdropping on my conversation with Sanjiv. When I caught her eye, she flushed a dark red and looked away quickly, her shoulders hunching up.