Revenge of the Geek

by Piper Banks

  The most startling development happened after school one day. I was on my way out to the student parking lot when I saw Charlie and Finn standing near Charlie’s old station wagon. They didn’t notice me—they were talking so intently, I don’t think they’d have noticed a full brass band marching by—and then, suddenly, Finn leaned over and kissed Charlie.

  I promptly dropped my car keys. Luckily, Finn and Charlie didn’t hear. The last thing I wanted to do was interrupt them. I scrambled for the keys and then hurried to my car before they noticed me.

  “Oh, my gosh,” I said under my breath. “Way to go, Charlie!”

  I climbed into Bumblebee and drove home, smiling all the way. Charlie hadn’t told me when she was planning to talk to Finn, or what she would say when she did, but obviously it had worked. And somehow, the idea of the two of them together didn’t weird me out anymore. Even though they’d been friends forever, and even though they bickered constantly, something about the two of them together just seemed right.

  As Hannah might say, it was a good match.

  I pulled into the driveway of the beach house. My mind was still so full of thoughts of Charlie and Finn that at first I didn’t see the girl sitting on my front doorstep, her shoulders slumped and her arms wrapped around her bent knees.

  It was Nora.

  All of my fizzy, happy thoughts instantly vanished.

  What is she doing here? I wondered.

  As I parked Bumblebee and climbed out, my pulse was humming. I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or nerves, or a combination of both. Why would Nora come find me, of all people? I was the friend she’d betrayed. After all that she’d done, what could she possibly have to say to me?

  Nora stood as I approached. She was wearing a black T-shirt over faded denim cut-offs and scuffed canvas sneakers. It was almost exactly what she’d been wearing the first time I laid eyes on her.

  “Hi,” Nora said. She stood with one arm down at her side, and the other crossed over her body.

  “Hi,” I said, stopping a few feet in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you,” Nora said.

  “What about?”

  “Everything,” she said. “Can I come in?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want her in my life, and I certainly didn’t want her in my house.

  “Please,” Nora said. “I won’t stay long. I’ll just say what I’ve come to say, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

  Finally, I shrugged and gave a curt nod. We might as well get this over with, I thought. And I had to admit, I was curious to know what she would say.

  As usual, Nora recoiled from Willow’s exuberant greeting at the door. I’d once wondered why Nora disliked Willow, and why Willow was never as friendly to Nora as she was to our other guests. Now, in light of all that had happened, it seemed like it was an early warning sign I should have paid more attention to.

  I petted Willow’s head, and then said to Nora, “Let’s go back to my room.”

  I led the way, Willow at my side, Nora trailing behind. Once we were there, I closed the door behind us. I was glad Hannah wasn’t home from school yet. She’d have been dying to know why Nora was here, and would probably have eavesdropped at the door.

  I dropped my backpack on my desk.

  “Have a seat,” I said, gesturing toward the desk chair.

  Nora obediently sat down. I sat cross-legged on my bed, facing her, and waited.

  “You probably hate me now, huh?” Nora said.

  I didn’t say anything. I just continued to look at her.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you do. I know I deserve it,” Nora said. “You were the first person who was nice to me at Geek High. And, in return, I was pretty awful to you.”

  “Yes, you were,” I agreed.

  Nora fell silent, staring at the floor in front of her. After just a few moments of this, I started to feel my patience slipping. If she’d come here for sympathy, or if she somehow thought we could be friends again, well, she was dead wrong on both counts.

  “Nora, why did you come here? What did you want to say to me?” I finally asked.

  She shrugged miserably. “I just wanted to apologize.”

  “Fine. Then apologize,” I said.

  “I’m really sorry, Miranda,” she said.

  I nodded. “Thanks, but I don’t forgive you.”

  Nora nodded and bit her lip. “I sort of figured you wouldn’t.”

  “I thought we were friends,” I said.

  “I thought so, too,” Nora said.

  “Then why did you do it? Why did you submit that story to Candace, when you knew how badly I was hoping to have my short story picked for publication? And why did you tell Charlie that I like Finn?” I asked.

  Nora shrugged again. “I don’t know, exactly. I think I was just jealous of you.”

  This took me by complete surprise.

  “Jealous? Of me?” I said. “Why?”

  “Because you have everything. You have friends and a cute boyfriend and a beautiful house. You’re really smart, and everyone at school likes you. Everything’s just so easy for you,” Nora said. Her words came out in a burst, as though they’d been pent up inside of her for so long.

  I just stared at her. I spent so much of my time being jealous of other people, it hadn’t really occurred to me that someone would be jealous of me.

  “Really?” I said.

  “Yes, really. I don’t have anyone. My parents don’t even want me to live with them, and my grandmother barely tolerates my presence in her condo. No one wants me,” Nora said. Tears were now leaking out of her eyes.

  “It’s not like my life is so perfect,” I said. “My stepmother and I barely get along. And, yes, I have a great boyfriend, but he lives in a different state.”

  “So? At least you have a boyfriend! I’ve never even been on a date,” Nora said.

  “What about Marcus?” I asked.

  Nora looked down at the floor, her cheeks flushing.

  “I made him up,” Nora admitted. “I was trying to impress you.”

  Aha! I thought. It was just as I had suspected.

  “I didn’t like you because you had a boyfriend. I liked you because you were fun to hang out with and nice. Or, at least, I thought you were,” I couldn’t help adding.

  “I thought it would give us something to talk about. You know, if we both had long-distance relationships. I’ve always been really bad at talking to new people,” Nora explained. She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hands. I grabbed the tissue box off my night-stand and handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” Nora said. She took a tissue and dabbed at her eyes with it.

  “I just don’t understand why you turned on me,” I said. “Did it make you feel better when you knew Charlie and I weren’t getting along, or when the story you handed in got picked?”

  “Actually, no. It made me feel sick to my stomach,” Nora said.

  “They why did you do it? How did it help you?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I think I thought that if I could somehow step into your life and be just like you—have your friends and your clothes and everything else—that I’d be happy,” Nora said. She shrugged helplessly and shook her head. “I know it doesn’t make sense. And I’m not trying to make excuses for what I did.” She looked up at me. “I really am sorry, Miranda. The worst thing about all of this—worse than everyone finding out that I cheated with that story, worse than getting expelled from school—is that for once in my life, I had a really good friend. And I messed it all up.”

  I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I took a tissue and wiped at them.

  “And I know that you don’t accept my apology and that you can’t forgive me. But I really am so, so sorry,” Nora said.

  I nodded. “Thanks, Nora. I appreciate that.” I hesitated and took a deep breath. “And I do accept your apology.”

  “You do?”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

&nb
sp; “But aren’t you still angry at me?” Nora asked.

  Actually, my anger had faded. Which wasn’t to say that I was ready to trust Nora or to be her friend again. But I did think she was truly and honestly sorry for what she’d done. And I knew it couldn’t have been easy for her to come apologize in person.

  “Not as much as I was,” I said, shrugging. “By the way, how did you get here?”

  “I walked,” Nora said.

  “Do you want a ride home?” I asked.

  “That would be great,” Nora said. She gave me a watery smile. “Thanks, Miranda.”

  “No problem,” I said, and for the first time since Nora had arrived, I smiled back at her.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  I sat outside of Headmaster Hughes’ office, waiting for my appointment to see him. Mrs. Boxer—who was the school secretary, but preferred to go by her official title of Executive Administrative Assistant to the Headmaster—was sitting at her desk, typing. Mrs. Boxer was a large woman, tall and broad shouldered, with gray hair that she wore in a beehive and eyebrows that had been plucked to thin lines. I could tell from the way she kept glancing over at me that she was bursting with curiosity as to why I was there.

  Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Can I tell the Headmaster why you’re here?” she asked. She had an unusually high-pitched, breathy voice.

  I suppressed a smile. Mrs. Boxer loved to gossip. Anything I told her would go straight into the school’s rumor pipeline.

  “No, thanks. I’ll tell him at our meeting,” I said.

  “Okay, dear,” Mrs. Boxer said. Her fingers hovered over her keyboard, as though she were about to go back to work. But then she decided to take another stab at uncovering some good dirt. “It’s terrible what happened with the Lee girl, don’t you think?”

  “Mmm,” I said.

  Mrs. Boxer tsk-tsked. “In all of my years at this school, I’ve never heard anything like it. Plagiarizing a published story and trying to pass it off as her own. It’s simply shocking.”

  She waited for me to join in with her condemnations of Nora. When I remained silent, she pressed on.

  “I gather that you and Nora Lee were friends. And that you had a falling-out,” Mrs. Boxer said.

  “You can’t believe everything you hear,” I said, smiling politely.

  “Which part isn’t true? The part about you being friends, or the part about the falling-out?” Mrs. Boxer asked, leaning forward eagerly in her chair.

  Fortunately, I was saved from having to answer this. The woodpaneled door that led to the headmaster’s office swung open, and Headmaster C. Philip Hughes stood there.

  “Miss Bloom. Please come in,” he said.

  Headmaster Hughes was as bald as an egg, with dark eyes that gave the impression of missing nothing, thick eyebrows, and a square jaw with a cleft chin. When he smiled, it was a close-lipped grimace that pulled the outer corners of his mouth down instead of up. I’d always found this disconcerting, as it meant that even when he was pleased, he looked disapproving.

  I followed him into his large office, with its enormous desk, book-lined shelves, and fussy, old-fashioned furniture. He waved me into one of the navy blue damask wing chairs before taking a seat behind his desk.

  “What did you want to see me about, Miss Bloom?” the headmaster asked.

  “I want to talk to you about Nora Lee,” I said.

  If Headmaster Hughes was surprised, he didn’t show it. He just nodded and waited for me to continue.

  “I’d like you to reconsider your decision to expel her,” I said.

  This time, I thought there was a flicker of surprise in Headmaster Hughes’ dark eyes. He regarded me for a long moment, tapping his bridged fingers together.

  “It was my understanding that you were the one who discovered Miss Lee’s plagiarism and brought it to Mrs. Gordon’s attention,” he finally said.

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “You must have understood when you did so that Miss Lee would face serious consequences. After all, what she did was a breach of the honor code,” Headmaster Hughes said.

  I nodded. “I knew there would be consequences. And there should be. But does her punishment have to be so harsh?”

  “The Notting Hill Independent School for Gifted Children is a very special place. Coming here is a privilege. Because of that, we take our academic integrity very seriously,” Headmaster Hughes said.

  I drew in a deep breath. “But I’ve talked to Nora. She’s really sorry for what she did. And I believe her. She’s not a bad person. She only did what she did because she was new here and trying to fit in,” I said.

  “We have new students at Notting Hill every year. None has ever felt the need to plagiarize another author’s work and attempt to have it published under her own name. If that story had been published in The Ampersand, it could have ruined the reputation of the magazine. A reputation that has been built over many years, through the hard work of many fine students,” he said.

  “But it wasn’t published. So no real harm was done,” I said.

  “I disagree. Dishonesty always has consequences,” the headmaster said, shaking his head.

  But I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

  “I’m not saying she shouldn’t be punished. But couldn’t you just suspend her, instead of completely expelling her? You could even put her on probation,” I said.

  “Miss Bloom, this isn’t a criminal case and you are not Miss Lee’s attorney, bargaining for a lesser jail sentence. Miss Lee violated the honor code. The punishment for a severe violation such as this is expulsion,” Headmaster Hughes said.

  I hesitated. “You won’t reconsider?”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

  I nodded and stood. I wasn’t surprised. I knew going in that I didn’t have much hope of convincing the headmaster to change his mind. But I felt like I had to at least try.

  “Thank you for seeing me,” I said. “I appreciate your time.”

  “Anytime, Miss Bloom. But before you go, may I ask you a question?” the headmaster said.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Am I correct in my understanding that you also submitted a short story to The Ampersand? And that Miss Lee’s plagiarized short story was chosen over yours?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “But despite that, you decided to come plead Miss Lee’s case to me?”

  I nodded again.

  “Why?” he asked simply.

  “I don’t know, exactly. I guess it’s that I really believed Nora when she said she was sorry. And doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?” I asked.

  The headmaster nodded slowly. “A noble sentiment. But, unfortunately, second chances aren’t always possible.”

  “They should be,” I said, shouldering my backpack.

  “What’s this I hear about you meeting with the headmaster today?” Finn asked at lunch.

  Charlie shot me a sharp glance. “You met with Headmaster Hughes?”

  I looked up from the chicken salad sandwich I was trying to work up the nerve to eat.

  “It didn’t take long for that to get out,” I said.

  “I have my sources,” Finn said.

  “Mrs. Boxer,” Charlie and I said together.

  “She’s not my only source,” Finn said with mild indignation.

  “How do you get her to tell you this stuff? Do you have something on her that you’re holding over her head?” I asked.

  “Mwa ha ha,” Finn laughed evilly. He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “I’ll never tell.”

  “What’s going on, Miranda?” Charlie asked.

  “I asked Headmaster Hughes to reconsider his decision to expel Nora,” I said.

  Charlie’s mouth actually dropped open. Considering she’d just taken a bite of her sandwich, this was not attractive. “What? But why? After everything she’s done to you?”

  “Actually, I didn’t tell you, but she came to
see me,” I said. “She apologized.”

  “And you believed her?” Charlie asked skeptically, her eyebrows arching.

  “Seriously, M. That chick has issues. You should steer clear,” Finn said.

  I dropped my sandwich back on the plate. Even though my stomach was growling, I still couldn’t bring myself to eat Geek High chicken salad. I picked up a limp carrot stick and munched on it instead.

  “Yes, I believed her. And no, we won’t be friends again. But I feel bad for her. She’s had a tough time of it. She doesn’t get a lot of support at home,” I said.

  “That doesn’t excuse what she did,” Charlie said.

  “No, it doesn’t. But I think she deserves some compassion,” I said.

  “So what did Hughes say?” Charlie asked.

  I shook my head. “He said he’s not going to reconsider her expulsion,” I said.

  “I’m not surprised. The headmaster is pretty hard-core,” Finn said. “The other day he made me turn my T-shirt inside out.”

  “Which T-shirt?” Charlie asked suspiciously.

  “The one that says, ‘Your Favorite Band Sucks,’” Finn said.

  “I can’t imagine why he found that offensive,” I said.

  Finn missed the sarcasm. “I know, right? He said that words that rhyme with truck and duck are not appropriate for school. And I said, ‘How about muck or buck? Are those okay?’ And then he threatened me with a detention.”

  “You are a twit,” Charlie said, although with much more affection than she normally used when insulting Finn.

  In return, he slung an arm around Charlie. I was still getting used to their casual shows of affection. Luckily, they weren’t obnoxious about it, and rarely made me feel like a third wheel.

  “Are you going to eat that sandwich, Miranda?” Finn asked, eyeing my plate.

  “It’s all yours,” I said, pushing it across the table to him.

  Finn took a bite. “This actually isn’t bad for Geek High tuna.”

  “That’s because it’s chicken,” I said.

  Finn made a gagging sound and spit the sandwich out into a napkin.