Nerdy by New Year

by Jessica Bucher

  When the excitement died down, I took my place back at the podium, finally level-minded enough to get through the rest of these notes. A hand popped up to stop me.

  When I glanced up at Lucy, she squeaked out her question. “What’s in D.C.?”

  Before I could open my mouth, Haily interrupted with sarcasm. “Just the capitol.” Laughter erupted across the small group, and I watched Lucy’s cheeks redden as she sank back in her seat.

  Humiliation-by-proxy made my face blush too. “Guys,” I barked, which made everyone cease their giggling and gape at me.

  Then, I looked directly at Lucy as I said, “Great question. We’ve been planning a winter break trip to D.C. to take one of their student legislation tours. It will prepare us for our spring project which will be to take a piece of legislation to the state.”

  She quickly closed her hanging jaw and nodded her head.

  “Individual members will still have to contribute, but the trip is open to all members.”

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes on the open notebook where she recorded her notes.

  “You’re welcome,” I answered.

  Chapter Two

  Lucy

  Dropping that stack of books was humiliating. That wasn’t a very Lucy thing to do. I spent ten minutes applying a perfect cat eye each morning; clumsy wasn’t in my repertoire. According to Wikipedia, Key Club’s official values were, “caring, character building, inclusiveness and leadership.” I wasn’t sure people would describe me as any of those things, least of all inclusive. I was nervous even before I saw Simon.

  After, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. It didn’t seem to matter how many times the two of us shared space, there was always tension. He was nice to me though. A lot nicer than Hailey Yi, though I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t exactly welcoming when she moved here a few years ago. With our past, Simon could have, and probably should have been a jerk. But instead of laughing at my questions the way the others had, he answered like I was any other newbie and not the girl that made him the laughing stock of sophomore year. That little bit of tolerance was all I needed to push through the meeting.

  When I picked altruism and Simon’s forgiveness as two of my three steps toward my goal, I hadn’t considered that I could achieve one with the other. But it was looking a lot like Key Club was the perfect excuse for spending time with Simon. He couldn’t exactly blow me off if I was a member of the club he presided over. The D.C. trip was my opportunity to show him not only that I was sorry, but that I had changed. The problem was, I was more than a little afraid that he had changed too. What if the boy I knew as a kid wasn’t in there anymore? I couldn’t think about that, not if I wanted to make any progress. I needed to guarantee my spot on that D.C. trip and fast.

  Simon and I only had one class together, American Government, which was oddly appropriate considering Key Club’s plan to take a piece of legislature to the capitol. I’ll confess, I didn’t have a clue what they meant by that. They were gonna what? Change the world from Delinki High School? Demand Vitamin Water in the school vending machines or girls on the boys basketball team? It was hard to imagine anything a bunch of seventeen-year-olds suggested was going to carry weight, but they were all excited, and that trip had a lot of potential for me, so whatever my thoughts were, I was keeping my lips sealed.

  My opportunity to talk to Simon came just a few minutes before class ended. Mr. Parker was home sick and our sub was more than happy to throw a video on and call it a day. However, when the video ended with ten minutes to spare, the class talked him into letting us work on the evening’s homework. We could chat, he said, if we used our indoor voices. I fought back a snicker. Who said indoor voices when talking to seniors in high school? Clearly this dude, was used to subbing at the grade school.

  Simon sat directly across from me in the back of the room. Yet, I’d never talked to him in American Government. Usually when Mr. Parker said turn to the person next to you, the two of us instinctively turned in the opposite direction. So it felt foreign when I leaned over and tapped him with the eraser of my pencil.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, respecting the indoor voices rule.

  “Hey,” replied Simon, his face screwed up in an irritated expression. He was never cruel to me but he always always had his guard up, and today was no exception.

  “I was thinking about that D.C. trip.”

  He just stared at me, blinking occasionally, like he didn’t have the foggiest idea where I was going with this and wasn’t about to ask.

  “I want to go,” I pressed, suddenly aware that I had said more to Simon in the last two hours than I had the last two years.

  He started tapping his right hand on the table, a habit from when we were kids. His nails drummed endlessly. I used to find it annoying; now I was happy to see it, happy to see any sign that there were things about Simon I still knew.

  He swallowed hard before answering. “The others in Key Club have been working toward this trip all year.”

  I nodded. “I get it. But it’s only winter term. I can still contribute. There’s no rule against joining late, is there?”

  The pained expression on Simon’s face told me that there might not be a rule, but at the moment he was wishing there was.

  “No rule per se.”

  “Great!” I said, globbing on to my chance, despite his obvious lack of enthusiasm. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

  Simon shook his head, “It’s not that simple. It’s...it would be up to the group,” he said, a little bit of hope lit behind his eyes. I got the sinking feeling that hope was aimed at the group being opposed to my joining, rather than welcoming me with open arms. But I wasn’t giving up. The Hailey Yis of the world weren’t going to stop me. When I wanted something I went out and got it, and what I wanted this time was too important to give up without a fight.

  Simon

  Of all the kids at this school who would grow a conscience overnight, it had to be Lucy. Something was just not right about this. Out of nowhere, she joined the club and started acting like our winter trip should include her.

  She didn’t pick up trash along the highway this summer.

  She didn’t host a cat adoption at the humane society.

  She didn’t even toss her La Croix cans in the donation bin at lunch time. I watched her!

  And yet...I could not be rude to Lucy. I wanted to, so bad. Truth be told, it wasn’t up to the group if she could go on that trip. If she was an active member of the club, with at least twenty volunteer hours and could turn in her $200 fee by the end of the month, then she had every right to go with the rest of us. It was part of the bylaws we created, in hopes that more students would join. I never expected it to be this student.

  In American Gov, I had the feeling she would speak to me, especially when she sweet-talked the sub into letting us work quietly. I swear Lucy could end wars with a wink and a smile—too bad she used it to get out of homework and flirting with Trevor Hatfield.

  I remember the days when Lucy was a firecracker who never took no for an answer and didn’t care what people thought about her.

  “If it means so much to you…” I shoved my notebook into my bag, since it didn’t look like I would be able to use this homework time on actual homework.

  “It does actually.” She held her hands clasped over her single notebook. Of course, she didn’t have a backpack.

  “I didn’t know you cared about Key Club.”

  “I didn’t,” she blurted, then froze. “I mean...I do now. I just didn’t before.”

  I could see the wheels in Lucy’s head turning as she tried to think of a way out of that hole she just dug for herself. Finally, she shrugged and held up her hands.

  “Not gonna lie, Simon. My mom suggested it.”

  “Aha.” Lucy’s mom was widely known in Delinki for her charitable work. Her non-profit helped countless families in town when they needed it—including mine. It certainly didn’t explain why Lucy finally d
ecided to follow in her footsteps.

  Then a statement came flying out of my mouth, bypassing my brain totally without my permission. “I only wish she would have suggested it sooner.” Lucy froze, and I silently prayed she wouldn’t look into it too much. I certainly didn’t mean that I wanted to see more of her sooner than yesterday, but that was certainly how it sounded.

  Before Gray and Addy became a thing, bringing our two worlds together, I had finally accepted that I would never see or speak to Lucy again. Now, it felt like she was everywhere I turned. Even at my swim meets, gawking at me in a speedo!

  Then I went and uttered something as stupid as, “I wish she would have suggested it sooner,” and now it felt like everything that used to exist between me and Lucy was just lying dead on the table between us, waiting for us to either piece it back together or toss it in the trash.

  “Yeah, me too.” She mumbled, holding her perfectly pink manicured nails up to her mouth to muffle her own words.

  I had so many more questions, like: why did her mother suggest it? And why was Lucy all-of-a-sudden talking to me after two years? And what on earth was I going to do if Lucy went on that trip?

  But I would not ask any of those questions, heck no. Not with the chance that I could blurt out something so incriminating.

  Life was so unfair sometimes. Just when I got over her, she came careening back into my life. Let’s face it: I was no Gray Turner. Cool and aloof around girls was not my MO. If Lucy kept hanging around me, I was going to say more stupid things and end up in the same predicament as last time. Head over heels for a girl who was way out of league.

  Chapter Three

  Lucy

  “Seriously? You hit another one?”

  Nora groaned on the other end of the line. “It has been like this since summer. At this point, I might as well move into the refuge myself. Do you think they take unattended teenagers?” It was only November and already Nora had hit two red-tailed hawks with her truck.

  I snorted, trying to imagine the Owl Lady sitting across the breakfast table from Nora each morning. “Alright,” I caved, “I’ll go with you but on one condition...”

  “Name it.”

  “You have to let me pick the music.”

  There was a long pause, accompanied by an obviously exaggerated sigh. “Fiiiine. But if you even think about playing that creepy baby shark medley again, I reserve the right to leave you on the side of the road.”

  “Deal. Pick me up in five. I’ll be the really good-looking one with the Pamplemousse La Croix.” I said, knowing full well that Nora was probably rolling her eyes on the other side of the phone.

  Even though I acted like visiting the wildlife refuge was a favor to Nora, I always loved going. There was always at least one cute baby bird there, and it felt good knowing I was part of a rescue operation, even if it was as simple as driving it from Nora’s barn to the facility outside of town.

  I could hear Nora’s pickup before I saw it. The old, dirty red truck was on its last leg and it sputtered, coughed, and clanked its way across town as if it wanted everyone to know. I pulled open the passenger side door and climbed up into the truck. There was a large cardboard banker’s box between us, a half-dozen air holes poked through the top.

  “I kinda thought we were done with this,” I said, peeking through one of the holes.

  “It happens,” said Nora, eyes on the road. “When the weather doesn’t turn the way it’s supposed to.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Uh oh, what?”

  “Have you been watching Netflix documentaries on global warming again?” Nora believed anything she saw in a documentary. And right now she was convinced there were more birds in Minnesota than usual thanks to the late fall.

  Nora tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “There will be nothing left for our children,” she whispered.

  I burst into a fit of giggles.

  “What?” asked Nora. “You don’t believe in climate change?”

  I struggled to regain my composure. “Oh I do. It’s just...I love it when you get worked up. Like when you first learned about Area 51 and started that junior investigators club.”

  “We still don’t really know what’s out there,” said Nora, a far off look on her face as she pulled the truck into the gravel parking lot outside the Owl Lady’s office.

  I grabbed the cage and followed her up the ramp. The refuge was on a large piece of property, but funding for the place clearly went toward the animals and not staff lodging. The office was one of those long one-room portables, the temporary kind designed for construction sites. There wasn’t even indoor plumbing, a fact I had only learned because the Owl Lady pointed to a porta-potty last time I asked to use the restroom.

  Today she was head down in a pile of paperwork, her black cowboy hat covered in dirt and grime, as always.

  “Another one?” she asked when she spotted us hovering in the open door frame.

  “Sorry,” said Nora. “I know you’re getting tired of my face.”

  The Owl Lady took the box from my hand without so much as a hello before returning her attention to Nora.

  “I’d like seeing you a little more if you brought help instead of more work.”

  Nora nervously bit down on the bottom corner of her lip. There was a reason she begged me to come along. The Owl Lady had been nagging Nora to volunteer at the refuge since she turned twelve and was officially old enough to participate. Nora had been saying no for that long as well.

  “If it’s bird poop you’re afraid of, it won’t hurt you,” she remarked.

  Nora gave an awkward smile. It wasn’t poop she was afraid of, it was the Owl Lady, with her acid-washed jeans and crow’s feet so deep it looked like she was perpetually squinting.

  “You can go now,” she said, waving us off with one hand as she set the raccoon cage up on her desk. All her paperwork would be covered in a thin layer of barn dust now.

  We were halfway to the truck when I had an idea.

  “I’m gonna grab an application,” I said, turning back toward the module.

  “What?” shrieked Nora. “Are you crazy? She’s gonna turn you into bird food and make beaded necklaces from your bones!”

  I shook my head. “Don’t be silly, Nora. She’s saving that honor for you.” And with that, I sprinted back up the ramp and grabbed an application from the plastic holder fixed to the wall.

  “Hey,” barked the Owl Lady from inside. “You change your mind after all?” I could hear her chair scraping across the wooden floor as she rose to come put in her two cents. I wasn’t sure how she would react to seeing me standing there and not Nora, but I stood my ground. I wasn’t afraid of a crinkly old woman with a walking stick. Or so I told myself as I stood quaking in my ankle boots.

  The Owl Lady sucked in a deep breath at the sight of me. “You, huh?” she asked, looking me up and down. I could only imagine what she was thinking. Nora was lipstick and overalls. Beauty and practicality pooled together in the perfect combo. I was just the lipstick part. For a second there, I was afraid she would shoo me away.

  “Any help is help,” she said, matter-of-factly, then turned to make her slow journey back to her desk, her walking stick thumping across the hollow spots in the floor with each step.

  Nora looked at me like I had grown a third eye when I hopped back up into the truck. Little did she know, I had a plan.

  I sure as heck wasn’t going to earn Simon’s respect volunteering at Mom’s center. But taking care of injured and abandoned animals? No one could mock that service, not even Hailey Yi.

  Simon

  Dinner table time was practically religious in my house. Even if it was burgers and custard, we still ate it around the large farm table Dad made before I was born. There were five of us kids, and I was smack dab in the middle: a sister and brother on either side of me.

  With my older brother playing football at the University of Minnesota, there were only four of us filling the chairs and devouring Mom�
�s famous chili.

  “Simon has some good news,” my Mom said from the end of the table.

  “Finally hit puberty?”

  “Samantha.” My dad barked at her, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitch. The little ones had already erupted in giggles, and I could only roll my eyes at my big sister. Little miss failure-to-launch was supposed to go away for college like our brother, but she only made it to the community college down the street.

  “Why are you still here?” I answered her.

  “To bother you.”

  “Mission accomplished,” I shot back.

  “Kids.” Our mom scolded us from the end of the table in her textbook-mom voice. Not like we were kids. Sam was only a year older than me, but apparently being a legal adult didn’t mean you had to act like one.

  “What’s your good news, Si?” my dad asked.

  “We raised enough money for the trip to D.C. in December,” I said, treading lightly around the subject.

  “That’s awesome, kiddo.” My sweet-as-pie mother was nothing but proud of me, while I could see the wheels turning in my dad’s head.

  “So, I just have to turn in my permission slip and my trip cost,” I mumbled into my cornbread.

  “I thought you just said you guys raised the money,” Dad asked.

  “That money was for the tour and some of the travel expenses. Each member is still expected to contribute.”

  “How much for that?” he asked.

  I swallowed. My dad owned his own tire shop, and things had been going well since it was rebuilt a few years ago, but times were still tough. Especially around the holidays.

  “Two-hundred…”

  In typical dad fashion, his face didn’t expose anything. Quite the poker face that man had, which would have been fine if he was playing poker and not holding his son’s senior year in his hands.

  “I’d consider it my Christmas present, of course. You don’t have to get me anything else. And I can shovel snow around the neighborhood or something to make it up. I’m great at fundraising.” I rambled, feeling the eyes of everyone at the table on me.