Beauty and the Geek (Gone Geek Book 1)

by Sidney Bristol

  He gripped the edge of the table.

  There was no time to switch out of teacher mode. He was still too stunned that she was there.

  Stephen wasn’t sure how he felt about the sudden revelation of her identity. He’d asked her if she was Tamara—three weeks ago—and she’d said no. Why? He’d discerned who she was after that, based on what she’d told him and said in her public profile. But to be fair, they’d met in a chat network that prided itself on member’s anonymity. Should he have expected her to tell him anything of truth? Was that going too far?

  “Will you say something besides what are you? Please?” She’d moved her hands from her front to back pockets.

  “I didn’t ask what you are.” He frowned, replaying those words.

  “Great. Now you want to argue with me.” One side of her mouth lifted, and her tone had a decidedly teasing quality. She always did like to deflect with humor. It was her shield.

  “I’m not…I don’t think I know what to say. I’m still taking it all in.”

  “I’ve missed talking to you.”

  So had he.

  She had lied to him about her name. Was anything else a lie? What was truth? Did he really even know her? She’d shown up at his place of work because he’d told her what he did and who he was. If she were someone…unstable or dangerous, this could go very badly. He didn’t think that was the case, but there were facets to their relationship he hadn’t yet considered because he’d taken everything she’d said as truth.

  He’d been painfully honest with her at times.

  “Did you ever tell me the truth?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Look… Yeah, in the beginning I said a lot of crap just to say it. You…said and did a lot of stuff that,” she glanced over her shoulder, then pitched her voice lower, “that turned me on. I won’t deny that I’d have said just about anything to keep you interested, but everything else…is all me. You just pegged me as the wrong Wonder Woman. And yes, I should have admitted who I was when you figured it out, but I freaked out because stuff was crumbling around me and I needed…I needed us to stay the same. I’m sorry.”

  Stephen opened and closed his mouth.

  She wanted to keep him interested.

  That…was not the kind of thing women said to him. It just wasn’t. Was this another lie? Was he being cat fished?

  “My friend likes to call me an intelligence slut.” Tamara couldn’t stand still. She was a creature in constant motion—fidgeting with her hair, bouncing on the balls of her feet or jiggling her knee. “See, usually when I find a guy that shares anything in common with me—who is also smart—it turns out they don’t really like me for me. They’re usually more into me being their hot, Asian girlfriend or if I can score them that new video game or if they can meet their gaming idol, than really caring about me. So…it was easier to pretend I wasn’t me. That I was a normal girl in a normal relationship. So yeah. You said you wanted to take things offline and…I couldn’t say any of this over the phone. I tried, and I fucked it up. I realize I have to look like the ultimate creeper, but…this was the only way I could really do this, and you had to know I’m not Piper. That she’d never do anything like this. And…I just had to talk to you again. I needed to hear you.”

  Stephen was conflicted. There were notes of honesty and nerves in her voice, but she’d also lied to him.

  “Do you want to get a burger?” he asked.

  “Uh, sure?”

  “Sorry, that was random.” He pulled his glasses off his head and scrubbed one hand over his jaw. “It’s just, the longer we stand here, the more likely it is a student will come back and I’d rather not have this conversation with—”

  “Oh, God, no. Yes, please? Plus, I’m starving.”

  “Okay.”

  “Cool.”

  “Good.”

  “So, we going?”

  5.

  “I’m going to get my bag.” Stephen thumbed over his shoulder in the general vicinity of where he’d dumped it that morning.

  “Yeah, okay.” She nodded and smiled.

  She was…beautiful. Different than what he’d pictured, but if she was really the same person, her looks weren’t what mattered. It was what they shared. Yeah, it bothered him a little that he’d asked her if she was Tamara and she’d said no. But why should she have said yes? He was a random guy on the Internet. Who she had cyber sex with. In her shoes, he’d have reservations about giving into a pushy guy from an adult chat room site, too, now that he thought about it.

  Fuck, had he really been that much of a creeper?

  Stephen grabbed his messenger bag, crammed a few odds and ends into it and joined Tamara at the entrance to the lab. He secured the doors, catching himself glancing at her every few seconds.

  She was real. And she was here.

  “Where we going?” she asked.

  “There’s a pub just off campus. It’s not a college hang-out.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He led the way, striking off across the grass and between buildings.

  “So…that picture?” Had he heard her say it was a friend’s?

  “Yeah. It was a ComicCon thing. A bunch of us dressed up as Wonder Woman and we coordinated a photo shoot. My closest friends were in that picture. My friend, Piper’s—The one you…uh…sort of met.”

  Fuck.

  And he’d…

  “Okay, ‘met’ is probably not a good word—”

  “She blocked me, and I can’t blame her.”

  “Yeah, I really fucked up.”

  “Why? Why let me think you were Piper? I still don’t get it.”

  “It’s…a long story. And you deserve to know the whole thing.” Tamara cleared her throat. “So, I was co-host on this video game show on YouTube called Legend. We talked video games and stuff. I know you aren’t big into video games, so you might not have heard of it.”

  “Heard of it, yes, but I haven’t watched it, sorry.”

  “It’s totally fine, I just didn’t know if you searched all the girls in the picture.”

  “Only their names. Nothing more. That’s how I heard of the show, actually.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, ug. The other host on Legend was this guy who does the gaming circuit and competes in games, while I beta test games before they’re released, which means I can’t compete. Anyway, Adam—my former co-host—wanted me to date him, and I didn’t want to, so he threw a temper tantrum to the producers and they let me go.”

  “Wait—really?”

  “Yeah, really. Legend was half my income and losing that job…it sucks. Major donkey balls. The same day I got laid off, you asked me if I was Tamara. I freaked out. I was not thinking clearly. I thought—I thought if you knew who I really was, you’d…break up with me? Leave me? Not want to talk to me anymore?”

  She blew out a breath and looked up. It was hard to read her expressions, but the rest of her body telegraphed her tension and unease.

  “I didn’t do it consciously. I just opened my mouth and said no, and…you went on with everything, and I couldn’t take it back. I guess I didn’t want to. If you didn’t know who I really was…you wouldn’t know what a shit storm my life was right then and you wouldn’t know all the crap people say about me. It would just be…us. I had no idea you’d worked it out to my best friend, but at least you have great taste. Everyone likes Piper. She’s pretty, she’s smart, she’s—”

  “But she’s not you. She’s not…”

  “No, she’s not. She’s amazing though.” Tamara grinned and her face…shone. Whoever Piper was, Tamara loved her. “She’s hell of a lot stronger than I am. Guys…I go to a lot of gaming conventions. It’s my job. Was my job. I knew why the show promoted me to co-host. All I was to them was an ethnicity and a body type. The hot girl on set. That’s it. I put up with it because I thought being there was making a difference, but I don’t think I was. I think I was just miserable and afraid to push for what I deserved. With you…you lik
ed me for me, not what I look like or who I was, and I guess I was too insecure to think you’d still want to be with me if you knew who I really am.”

  “I still…don’t understand all of it. I wouldn’t not-like you because of that.” Stephen understood at least some of it. Besides, everyone has baggage. “Everyone wants to be liked. That’s human.”

  “I never wanted the crap in my life to touch you. Talking to you…it was like this safe little corner of my life where things weren’t…I don’t know. A wreck? I didn’t want to lose that. And now, here you are. I cannot dig myself out of this hole. I’ll just keep going. Dig myself straight through to the other side.” She mimicked the digging action.

  He chuckled. But in a way…he got it.

  “You go online anonymously to escape the negative attention your looks attract, and I stay online because the moment a woman sees me, she’s figuring out how to not go out with me.” Stephen glanced at her.

  “What?” She nearly tripped over some uneven concrete and stumbled into him. “Are you serious? Because of a birthmark?”

  “It’s a birthmark on half my head.” He shrugged, bracing himself for the it’s not that bad line.

  “Half your head? It looks more like thirty percent.” She squinted at him.

  “Yeah.” He traced the line of the port wine mark, up his cheek, almost to his nose, around his eye and up into his hairline. Without the dark head of hair his Sicilian father had bequeathed him, the discoloration would be a lot more prominent.

  “Have you…grown a beard? Or something?”

  “The itching.” He shuddered. “I couldn’t do it.”

  “Totally understand that. I spend so much time around cosplayers and people in full-body make-up. I guess I’m sort of…desensitized? To skin color, I mean.” She shrugged and kept walking, dismissing a lifetime’s worth of insecurity in the matter of a minute.

  “Full-body make-up? Why?”

  “On what day?” She laughed and paused at the curb.

  “Pub’s just down this street.” He instinctively reached for her, offering her a hand off the curb and across the dark street. Her palm slipped into his, small and warm.

  “Oh, really? Come down this dark street, little girl.” Tamara snickered.

  “What?”

  “Sorry, bad joke.”

  “You do that.”

  “Do what?” She bumped her shoulder into him again and this time he didn’t think it was an accident.

  “You deflect with humor.” He didn’t immediately release her hand when they reached the other side of the road. And she didn’t let go of his either.

  “You’ve got me figured out already and we just met.” She glanced up at him, a smile curling her lips.

  He knew so many things about her, and he didn’t. But right now—that spark—was familiar, and right.

  “I do a few things. I’m a professional video game beta tester. Companies hire me to break their games. I was on the show Legend. I’m trying to get onto another show. It’s smaller, but the team that puts it on is friendlier. Nicer. And I do some stunt work, but usually I do body doubling for games and things because I’m their proportional ideal.”

  “All of that?”

  “Hey, living in L.A. is expensive, and I like to be busy.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m pretty sure what I pay in rent is criminal in other parts of the country. Here we are.” He led her to the dimly lit exterior of the local pub, an establishment that pre-dated the expansion to the university and would likely outlast it as well.

  They paused inside the door to allow their eyes to adjust, then grabbed a two-top table slightly apart from the rest. The things he wanted to ask her…he didn’t want an audience.

  The waitress swooped in, took their order, and was gone, leaving them staring at each other.

  “What’s this?” Tamara ran her finger along the leather binding. It was worn from being crammed in his back pocket half the time.

  “My sketchbook.” Steven folded his hands over the top of it out of instinct.

  “Sorry. Moleskin, right?”

  “Yes. No—it’s just…” Calling the book personal seemed like a cop out, but he didn’t have clearly defined lines when it came to what he wrote. Some of it was about her. “I like Moleskins for when I’m drafting a project from the beginning to the end. This? This is my personal sketchbook. I jot down thoughts about my day, stuff I want to remember, concepts, lists and ideas for prototypes in here. It’s—I write down thoughts about people. Sometimes things I wish I knew how to say to them.”

  “You probably have some pretty choice words for me.”

  “I…like to think out how to say something so I say it right. You only get one chance sometimes, and I don’t want to fuck things up by sticking my foot in my mouth.”

  They stared at each other, the seconds drawn out into moments.

  “So…how was class?” She fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers between them.

  “Good.” He slid the sketchbook into his briefcase and put it out of his mind.

  “Good?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That’s it?”

  “I’m still processing all of this.” And he didn’t know what to say. She’d taken his expectations of her and turned them on their head. He was still half certain this was all some sort of joke.

  “Okay.” She held out her hand.

  It would be rude to ignore the offering. So he took her hand between his.

  “My grandparents immigrated to California and opened a dojo. My father married his parents’ best friend’s daughter. Together they expanded the dojo, taught Taekwondo, and even got to compete the first year it was an Olympic sport. They won, probably because they’re completely dedicated to what they do. I’ve been a gym rat my whole life, but I can’t stand the guys who come in. I hate the word ‘swole-mate’. I started playing video games when I broke my ankle, right before state championships. I still have my first Atari. And I cosplay because my friend Rashae is an amazing seamstress and likes to play dress-up with me. She considers me her best advertising. That’s all real. It’s all me.”

  “That…was a lot.”

  “I know, but…I screwed up, I’ve let you and Piper and everyone down. I feel like a fuck-up. I need to make this right. Especially with you.”

  “I…I don’t really know what to say yet.” He stroked her knuckles with his thumb and sorted his thoughts a bit, fitting them into the right category. She’d given him so much of herself, opened a window of understanding and…he needed to get it. Her. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be you. That seems like a lot of pressure. I mean, let’s look at this objectively. You—what? Panicked and told a guy you weren’t you when he figured it out. Technically, you lied, but…I don’t get the feeling I’m being lied to by you. Am I making sense? I’m sort of talking out of my ass here.”

  “I’m a shitty person.” She stared at the table top.

  “You are not. Honestly, I should have expected you to be less honest. I’m a random guy on the Internet in an adult chat, so…I get the why. I stopped dating because I was tired of the way people reacted to my amazingly good looks.” The joke slid off his tongue and he wanted to take it back, shove it deep down.

  “You have the most stunning eyes.” Tamara leaned across the table, her gaze once again on his face. She didn’t flinch or stumble over the words, either. They were…honest. “What color are they? I thought blue, but now they look kind of green.”

  “Uh, what am I wearing?” He glanced down at the green shirt. “Today they’re probably more green.”

  “Look at me?”

  He complied with her request, steeling himself for…he didn’t know.

  “Yeah, they are sort of minty green. Mine are just boring brown.”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever associated ‘boring’ with you in any sense of the word.”

  She smiled and glanced down, as though she were…shy? Nervous? Tamara had never struck him as shy. If anyt
hing, she’d emboldened him with her frank way of speaking, her direct manner. That she’d felt the need to hide anything was what tripped him up. Why? There was something she hadn’t told him yet, some secret that darkened her eyes for a moment here and there.

  “So…do you think, in time, you could forgive me? Or did I fuck up permanently? Because I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a while before Piper will consider speaking to me.” She stared at him, not shrinking from whatever answer he’d give her.

  He didn’t put up with liars and he wouldn’t stomach someone who wanted to keep him at home. He was better off alone than with someone like that. But…he understood at least part of what Tamara was going through. He’d never lost a job because of how he looked, but he was pretty sure he’d been passed over a few times for it. Being judged on their physical appearance was something they both lived with, just in two vastly different ways.

  “I have a real problem with lying. My mom used to lie to me all the time about where my dad was. He was a pretty shitty father, but he was all I had. She did it to protect me, but in the end, it just hurt worse when I learned the truth. And I always learned the truth. He didn’t care if I knew he didn’t want to be with us. I don’t put up with it from my students and I own that I’m pretty hard on people as a result of it. Do I like that you lied to me when I asked you who you were? No, but I also get it.”

  Tamara nodded and her grip on his hand loosened. She wouldn’t plead or justify what she’d done, and he liked her a bit more for that.

  “I don’t think you lied to me.” He tightened his hold on her hand. “At least, not a lie that matters. You didn’t send me Piper’s picture and tell me it was you.”

  “I would never be that stupid.” Tamara winced. “But? There’s a but there. I can feel it.”

  He nodded. He hadn’t wanted to say it, to admit to that personal defect, but as long as they were laying the unvarnished truth out there, might as well.

  “But, yeah…I…it’s a personality flaw with me. I can’t put up with liars …”