Revenge of the Geek

by Piper Banks

  “Hi,” I said. “I’m Miranda.”

  The girl glanced back at me, as though wanting to make sure I was speaking to her. I smiled encouragingly.

  “Hi,” she finally said. “I’m Nora.”

  Finn was right: Nora was not a hottie, but I didn’t think she was unattractive. She was just plain, with unremarkable features—brown eyes, a slightly rounded nose, thin lips, mousy hair. Her best feature was her clear, ivory skin.

  “You’re new here, right?” I said.

  She nodded. “I just moved here from Boston.”

  “Cool,” I said. “Did you go to a Geek High there, too?”

  Nora looked at me blankly. I realized she hadn’t been here long enough to pick up the shorthand.

  “Geek High is what everyone in town calls Notting Hill,” I explained. “Because of the IQ requirement to get in.”

  “Oh,” Nora said, blushing again. “No. I went to a regular school. But I was in the Gifted and Talented program there.”

  Before I could respond, Felicity Glen’s carrying voice cut across the room: “Oh, my God. Is that girl actually wearing Doc Martens? Does she think it’s 1993 or something?” she said, while Morgan snickered sycophantically.

  I glared daggers at Felicity. She smirked back at me, causing me to indulge in a brief but satisfying fantasy of picturing what Felicity would look like if all of her hair fell out and her face was covered in angry red pimples.

  “Ignore her,” I advised Nora. “Felicity is one hundred percent pure evil. Seriously, I’m pretty sure she spends her free time kicking kindergartners.”

  But Nora had stopped blushing. Instead, all of the color had drained from her face, leaving her skin a sickly paper white. She stared down at her computer screen, blinking hard, as though she were fighting back tears. I tried to think of something comforting to say, but just then, Mrs. Gordon walked in, and a beat later, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class.

  “Hello, everyone! I hope you all had a nice summer,” Mrs. Gordon said, closing the door behind her.

  Mrs. Gordon was my favorite teacher at Geek High. She was plump, with wispy hair that was forever falling out of an old-fashioned bun. Today she was wearing a yellow cardigan that was misbuttoned, and a floral skirt that had what looked like a coffee stain near the hem. But she had a kind smile, and her literature classes were the academic high point of my day.

  “Welcome to Nineteenth-Century American Literature. We’re going to start with an old favorite of mine,” Mrs. Gordon continued. She reached into the box on her desk and pulled out a paperback book. “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Tate, will you pass out the books for me?”

  While Tate grabbed a stack of books out of the box and began handing them around, I shot Nora a sideways glance. She still looked miserable. Her eyes were downcast and she was chewing on her lower lip. When she took the book Tate held out to her, I could see that her hand was shaking slightly. I felt another hot rush of anger toward Felicity. It was one thing for Felicity to pick on me—I knew what kind of person she was, so her opinion meant nothing to me. But to pick on poor Nora, who was new at Geek High and probably didn’t have a single friend here, was just plain mean.

  Felicity apparently felt the weight of my gaze, because she turned to stare at me, raising her eyebrows provocatively. I rolled me eyes in disgust and looked away.

  “Tom Sawyer is set in the antebellum South in the fictional town of St. Petersburg,” Mrs. Gordon said. “It’s a classic coming-of-age story. Has anyone read it?”

  A few hands went up, including Tabitha Stone’s. Tabitha was widely seen as the literary genius of Geek High, largely because she’d had a book of poetry published two years earlier. I’d read her poems and wasn’t that impressed. Besides, Tabitha took herself way too seriously.

  Tabitha kept her hand up, and Mrs. Gordon nodded at her.

  “I think one of the most compelling themes in Tom Sawyer is the hypocrisy of the establishment. The church, the law, Tom’s school,” Tabitha said, sounding as condescending as ever.

  “That’s true. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mrs. Gordon said. “Today I’ll introduce the book to you—the setting, the main characters, the historical background—so you’ll have a point of reference when you begin reading.”

  Tabitha looked disgruntled. She loved showing off, and obviously resented not being praised for her superior knowledge.

  Feeling cheered up, I opened my laptop and began taking notes.

  When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, there was the usual flurry of activity. Laptops were stowed away, book bags were zipped up, people began chatting. By the time I’d packed up my things and turned around, Nora was gone. She must have scurried out of the classroom first thing.

  I kept an eye out for Nora for the rest of the morning, but we didn’t have any other classes together. I had independent study for math with Mr. Gordon—husband of Mrs. Gordon and the coach for the math team—then, after math, I had physics with Mr. Forrester. Finn and Charlie were both taking physics with me, and Charlie was still visibly annoyed at Finn. I shared a table with Charlie, and we sat behind Finn and his buddy, Tate Metcalf.

  I didn’t see Nora until lunchtime. Lunch at Geek High was served family style. The cafeteria staff set out platters of sandwiches, crudités, and cookies on each round table and everyone helped themselves. This was meant to foster a sense of camaraderie between the students, but instead, there’s such competition to get to the edible sandwiches (turkey, ham, chicken club) and avoid the inedible ones (tuna, egg salad, pimento loaf) that Geek High students have been known to rush the lunch room and dive at the platters. You’d think the cafeteria staff would have noticed the strong preferences, but if they did, it didn’t move them to make any changes to the menu. Maybe they enjoyed sadistically torturing us with goopy brown tuna salad studded with chunks of soggy celery.

  During the usual mad dash into the lunch room, I saw Nora standing to one side, looking lost and a little overwhelmed at the swarm of activity around the lunch tables. I fought my way through the crowd and headed over to her.

  “Hi,” I said. “Do you want to sit with us?”

  Nora hesitated, still chewing on her bottom lip, but finally she nodded.

  “It gets crazy in here at lunchtime,” I said as I led her to the table where Finn and Charlie were already seated, carefully guarding a platter of chicken club sandwiches.

  “Yeah, I noticed,” Nora said.

  “It’s the natural consequence of limited supply and increased demand. Just avoid the egg salad at all costs. Trust me.” I slid into an empty seat next to Finn, and gestured for Nora to sit next to me. “Nora, this is Finn and Charlie. Guys, this is Nora.”

  Finn gave Nora a smart salute and said, “S’up?”

  Charlie smiled at her and said, “Hi, Nora.”

  “Hi,” Nora said shyly.

  “You’re new here, right? How’s your first day going?” Charlie asked.

  “It’s fine,” Nora said unconvincingly. “I’m just trying to learn my way around.”

  “Has the official hazing started yet?” Finn asked.

  “Hazing?” Nora repeated nervously.

  “No one’s told you about that? Whoops, my bad. Forget I said anything. You’ll find out soon enough,” Finn said menacingly, although he softened the effect with a goofy wriggle of his eyebrows.

  “Just ignore him. There’s no hazing,” I told Nora, handing her the platter of sandwiches. Finn made a wild grab for the last chicken club. I quickly moved it out of his way. “Finn! You’ve already had three!”

  “I’m a growing boy. I need nourishment,” Finn complained.

  “Then have a tuna,” I said.

  “Thanks, but I’d rather eat glass,” Finn said.

  “There’s an idea,” Charlie said. “Go for it.”

  Nora pushed the plate back toward Finn. “It’s okay. You can have it. I’m not that hungry.”

  “Wa-hoo,” Finn said. He grabbe
d for the last sandwich and stuffed it whole in his mouth. It was so large, he could barely fit it all in. Charlie and I stared at him with twin expressions of disgust.

  “That is so gross,” Charlie said.

  It took Finn a few minutes to chew and swallow. When he could finally talk, he asked Charlie, “Why all the abuse today? Did I unknowingly run over your dog or something?”

  Charlie looked momentarily flustered, and then—even more surprisingly—she actually blushed. I couldn’t remember ever seeing Charlie blush before.

  “I don’t have a dog, you idiot,” she muttered.

  “Seriously, what gives?” Finn pressed on. “You’ve been crabby all day. Oh, wait—are you having one of your special girl days?”

  “Finn!” I said. I inclined my head toward Nora. “Can you please behave? We have company.”

  “So what?” he asked. “There’s no reason to be ashamed of your bodily functions, Miranda.”

  “So, Nora,” Charlie said, raising her voice to cut Finn off. “Where are you from?”

  “Boston,” Nora said.

  “And your family moved here?”

  “Actually, no. Just me,” Nora said. We all looked at her curiously. I got the feeling she didn’t want to go into the details of her relocation. Finally, reluctantly, Nora continued. “My grandmother lives here. I’m staying with her.”

  “Why?” Finn asked. “Wait, no, let me guess. Your parents are witnesses in a high-profile federal prosecution of the godfather of a crime syndicate. They’re entering the Witness Protection Program, but you decided you didn’t want to live out the rest of your life under an assumed identity. Am I right?”

  We all stared at Finn.

  “What?” he asked. “It’s possible.”

  “Um, no. That’s not why I moved here,” Nora said.

  “So, give us the details. Did you get kicked out of your old school? Oh, snap—did you call in a bomb threat? I actually considered that once, but the potential consequences if you get caught—you know, a criminal record, jail time—outweighed the benefit of getting out of school for the day,” Finn continued.

  Nora, who didn’t know that Finn was never serious about anything, started to look a little frightened. I kicked Finn under the table to shut him up.

  “Ow! You kicked me!” he said indignantly.

  “Maybe Nora doesn’t want to talk about why she moved here,” I said.

  “There’s no need for violence,” Finn said. “I was just making polite conversation.”

  “You wouldn’t know polite conversation if it bit you on the—” Charlie began.

  I cut her off before she could finish the thought. “How do you like Geek High so far, Nora?”

  “It’s okay,” Nora said without any enthusiasm whatsoever. “The work seems a lot more advanced than at my old school. I hope I can keep up.”

  “Really?” Finn asked interestedly. “Maybe I should transfer out of here. I wouldn’t mind an easier workload.”

  “Like you ever do any of the work, anyway,” Charlie scoffed.

  “That’s true. I rarely see the point of homework. But if I did ever choose to do it, it would be nice to have a soft option,” Finn said.

  “You’ll have to do your physics homework,” I said. “You heard what Mr. Forrester said. Homework counts as twenty percent of the final grade. If you don’t hand it in, you won’t pass the class.”

  Finn waved his hand dismissively. “Pass, schmass. Who cares?”

  “So I guess this isn’t the year when you’re going to start taking academics seriously?” Charlie asked.

  Finn shook his head regretfully. “Sadly, no.” He reached for a peanut butter cookie, and then grimaced once he’d taken a bite. “Stale,” he said.

  “The food here really is shockingly bad,” Charlie said. “Miranda, you should write an exposé on it for The Ampersand.”

  “That’s the school magazine,” I explained to Nora. “I’m going to write for it this year.”

  “So what do you think of my idea? The horrors of the Geek High cafeteria exposed,” Charlie said.

  “First of all, I don’t think we get to pick our assignments. The editor in chief does that. And, anyway, I’m not really interested in writing an exposé,” I said.

  “Why? What do you want to write?” Charlie asked.

  “Fiction,” I said. “There’s always at least one fiction piece per edition.”

  “Hmm,” Charlie said. She looked like she wanted to say something, but decided against it. Instead, she picked up a carrot stick and chewed thoughtfully on it.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” Charlie said.

  “Come on, just spit it out.”

  “It’s just that I’ve heard there’s a lot of competition for the fiction spot,” she said.

  “Where’d you hear that from?” I asked.

  “Tabitha Stone,” Charlie admitted.

  “Uh-oh,” Finn said, continuing to eat the stale peanut butter cookie.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’ve always had a problem with Tabitha Stone,” Finn said.

  “No, I haven’t,” I said.

  “Yes, you have,” Charlie and Finn said together.

  I glowered at both of them. It figured that the first time the two of them had gotten along all day was at my expense.

  “Just because I don’t particularly like Tabitha doesn’t mean I have a problem with her,” I said loftily.

  Charlie and Finn exchanged a meaningful glance. Nora watched all of us from underneath lowered lashes.

  “Face it, M. You’ve been jealous of Tabitha ever since she had that book of poetry published,” Finn said.

  “Self-published,” I corrected him. “Her dad paid for it to be published. Anyone can do that. There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

  “Whatever,” Finn said, shrugging.

  “No, not whatever,” I said. I could feel my temper gaining heat. “That’s what happened.”

  “I thought her book received positive reviews,” Charlie said. “In fact, wasn’t it mentioned in the New York Times Book Review?”

  “So? It was still self-published!” I said.

  “Relax, Miranda. All I’m saying is that having a publishing credit has got to work in Tabitha’s favor. I don’t want you to be disappointed if she’s picked to write the fiction piece for the fall issue,” Charlie said.

  “So you think Tabitha is going to be picked over me?” I asked indignantly. “Thanks for the support!”

  After all, I’d been a finalist in the Winston Creative Writing Contest. Sure, I hadn’t won, but that was because I hadn’t been able to attend the finals. They were held the same weekend as the Mu Alpha Theta state finals, and the Geek High MATh team would have been disqualified for being a player short if I hadn’t gone with them. But surely being a finalist in a prestigious national writing contest was just as impressive as paying someone to publish your maudlin, incomprehensible poetry.

  “You know I’m your biggest fan,” Charlie said. “Finn, too.”

  “Actually, not so much—” Finn began. But before he could finish, he said, “Ouch! Why do you guys keep kicking me?”

  “Sorry,” Charlie said sweetly. She turned to Nora, who had been watching us all silently but intently. “So, Nora. What’s on your schedule?”

  “This is her not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject,” I told Nora.

  Nora stood abruptly. “Actually, I have to go,” she said.

  We all looked up at her in surprise. There were still fifteen minutes left before the bell rang.

  “I have to see my guidance counselor. I was put in a biology class, but I already took that at my old school,” Nora explained.

  “So? If you take it again, you’ll ace it without having to do any of the work,” Finn said.

  “But she’d have to do the frog dissection again,” Charlie reminded him.

  “So? Big deal,” Finn said.

  Charlie and I both snorted with l
aughter.

  “Finn, you threw up during the frog dissection unit,” I reminded him.

  “I did not!”

  “Yes, you did, too,” Charlie said, giggling. “It was classic.”

  “Lies. It’s all lies, I tell you,” Finn said.

  Nora shifted from foot to foot, looking like she wanted to flee.

  “Good luck with the guidance counselor,” I said.

  “Thanks. Bye,” Nora said. She tucked her head, turned, and hurried off, her shoulders hunched and one hand gripping the strap of her backpack.

  “She’s a bit of an odd duck,” Finn said.

  “I think she’s nice,” I said. “She’s just shy. Right, Charlie?”

  Charlie shrugged. “Hard to tell. She barely spoke.”

  “She’s odd,” Finn said again. “And those are the ones you have to worry about. They seem quiet and nice, and then the police end up finding fifteen corpses buried under the floorboards of their house. And everyone says, ‘She seemed so nice. Just a little shy.’”

  “You,” I said to him, “are deeply, deeply troubled.”

  I stood, shouldering my backpack.

  “Now where are you going?” Finn asked. “Why is everyone running off? Lunch is only half over.”

  “I have some things to do,” I said. After they’d ganged up on me, accusing me of being jealous of Tabitha, I didn’t want to tell them I was going to the library to get a head start on my proposal for The Ampersand. The first meeting was tomorrow afternoon, and I was going to make sure I was super prepared. Tabitha Stone wouldn’t know what hit her.

  Chapter Four

  That night, after dinner, Dex called me on Skype. We’d made plans to talk at seven o’clock sharp, so I was in my room, sitting cross-legged on my bed with my laptop balanced on my knees when his call beeped in. Willow, my brindle greyhound, was stretched out on a white flokati rug on the floor beside me, fast asleep. Her feet were twitching, and she was grunting happily. I wondered whether she was dreaming of being back at the racetrack, chasing a mechanical rabbit.

  “Hi!” I said, when Dex’s face appeared on my computer screen.

  Dex had pale skin, a smattering of freckles, and smiling blue eyes. His coppery red hair had grown out over the summer, and was now just the slightest bit shaggy. I could tell Dex was calling from his dorm room, which had block concrete walls painted a sickly lime green. He’d taped up a poster of a surfer riding a huge wave.