Beauty and the Geek (Gone Geek Book 1)

by Sidney Bristol

  “What else is in that sketchbook?”

  “Stuff. It’s personal.” Tamara laid her hand on the leather cover. There were lines, fragments of thoughts, things she knew were about her. Some came earlier in their relationship, when they were just handles to each other, and some were later. From last week. The weekend. They were private. Kind of like a diary, but without the heart shaped lock and Lisa Frank glitter. Bits of him she shouldn’t be privy to, and now she was, and it felt like a violation.

  “How much have you been stalking him?”

  “I haven’t stalked him.” Tamara glanced at her laptop and phone, so very close with all their evidence…

  “Yeah. And the sky isn’t blue.”

  “I just look at his Facebook. Every once in a while. He’s not a big updater.”

  “But he didn’t unfriend you?”

  “No.”

  “Hm.”

  “I also haven’t heard from him. He hasn’t responded to anything, but he’s not as direct as I am. I think he’s a bit like Piper that way.”

  “Did you drive by the university?”

  “…yes.” Tamara winced.

  “And you saw him?”

  “Just his car. I had to know if he was there, and I dropped off his bag anyway.”

  “Tamara…”

  “I know. I know. I’ll get mad at him again tomorrow. I just…miss him. I didn’t realize how much we talked until he wasn’t there anymore. I mean, next to you guys? It was him.”

  “You never had video chat sex with me.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Would you?”

  “Nothing personal, but I’m not into pussy.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Are you?”

  “No. I swear, my love life would be easier if I were.” Miranda sighed.

  “Maybe we need to take one of those singles cruises and just get laid.” Tamara rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. She had no desire to see any other dick. Just one. And it just so happened she had a gif of it to keep her company. Too bad it wasn’t enough anymore.

  Nine days.

  Stephen needed to see her.

  He reached for his phone, but it was dead. Why was it dead?

  Oh, right, because he’d unhooked it to order a pizza…when? He glanced around the apartment until he spied the day-old, empty box with handwriting all over it. The floor was littered with sheets of paper, some of them stuck to the wall with masking tape and sticky notes.

  Fuck. No wonder he was in a fog. He hadn’t eaten today.

  What was today?

  Wednesday.

  Shit.

  What time was it?

  Half past noon.

  God damn it.

  He’d finally done it. Missed class. No call. No show. What the hell?

  He’d fucked it up with Tamara. Now he was going to screw himself out of a job. Well, not screw. Nothing was screwing, least of all him.

  Where was the damn charger?

  He scrubbed a hand through his scraggly beard. Over a week of not shaving, and it was getting itchy and uncomfortable.

  Did Tamara like beards?

  Where was the fucking charger?

  He stomped around the apartment, checking under the desk, in his bed, near the couch, and finally in the bathroom. He winced at the sight of himself. Boxers. A shirt with pizza stains. That god-awful beard.

  The new sketchbook was in his hand. He never let it go. So far, all the pages were covered with lists. What went wrong, why, where, what he should have said differently. Pages of sketching with her profile, her face caught just the right way. He could never get that little wrinkle at the corner of her mouth right. The one that said she was up to no good.

  He had to see her again.

  To get the wrinkle right.

  The charger was plugged into the wall above the sink. He jammed the cord into the phone and waited a few moments for it to get some juice. Powering it on took forever. He jigged his knee. All thoughts of checking in with work, of making an official sick call were abandoned the moment he saw the bright blue Facebook icon.

  Yeah, he’d gone from checking it once a week to moving the damn icon to his home page and waiting for any updates from Tamara.

  Her last post was of her bare toes. They were black. Last he’d seen they were pink. Black was such a stark color against her skin. Why black? There was nothing wrong with it, but the pink had been more cheerful. More her. Why is she painting her toes black?

  Christ, he wanted her worse than he wanted his next breath of air.

  14.

  Tamara glared at the sun. The other cars. Getting out of the apartment was a mistake. A complete and total disaster of an idea—but Piper was here.

  They hadn’t spoken, nothing more than a few texts confirming the flight, but soon there’d be nothing between them.

  She waited at the curb, searching for the curvy blonde.

  In the end, Piper swooped in, shoving her things in the hatchback of the car before plopping into the passenger seat.

  “You look better than death,” Piper said.

  They were the most beautiful words Tamara had heard in ages.

  “You’ve looked better yourself.” Tamara grinned and reached across the space.

  Piper was paler than usual, but it was the dark circles under her eyes that really worried Tamara. They spoke of sleepless nights and crying. It killed her a lot to know she hadn’t been there for Piper, that she’d created this mess.

  She hugged her friend tight, glad at least one thing in life was falling into place.

  “How have you been?” Piper asked, her voice pitched a few notes too high.

  “Shitty.”

  “I’ve heard.” She pulled back and stared hard at Tamara. “You actually know how to cry?”

  “Yes, I do cry! What about you? How are you?”

  A car horn broke the moment.

  Tamara flipped the other driver the bird and shifted into drive, whipping the small car out into the flow of traffic inching along.

  “I’m…” Piper sucked in a deep breath. “I’m discovering that I still have a lot of shit to deal with where Carl is concerned. I bottled a lot of it up and buried myself in work. I was…bound to explode about something. I’m sorry it was you. Thank you for warning Dr. Lucien, by the way.”

  “Oh, Piper. It’s my fault. I should have known better. I wasn’t thinking. It was stupid of me.”

  “So—what happened?” She threw her hands up. “I thought it was awesome and rainbows and unicorn shit? Then I get these can’t-say-anything conversations with Miranda and Rashae and…I missed you.”

  Tamara sucked down a deep breath and pulled into the first parking lot she could find. Already, her chest was too tight, and she could feel the gathering moisture in the corner of her eye. She shifted into park and swiped at her lower lashes.

  “It just…I screwed everything up. I made a mess of things, Piper.”

  “What happened? I’m sorry I wasn’t around.” Piper leaned on the center console.

  “I’m sorry I used that picture.”

  “I’m sorry I stopped talking to you. Please don’t cry. That’s weird.”

  “I don’t want to cry!” Tamara laughed despite herself and wiped away the stupid tears.

  “Miranda wasn’t lying. You really do cry.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Here. I came prepared.” Piper thrust tissues at her. “Now, tell me what happened.”

  Tamara gave Piper the highlights, with minimal tears.

  “And you mean to tell me you have not kicked this guy’s ass yet?” Piper tilted her head to the side.

  “No.”

  “Tamara, regardless if he was right or wrong, calling you out like that at a party isn’t okay. Seriously. And he was testing you? That’s beyond weird and not okay.”

  “I don’t think the list thing is really about me—”

  “No—you don’t get to defend him. He’s basically dump
ed you because you didn’t do what he wanted you to do. He had no right to do that, and he was upset you caught him in his bullshit. I should be holding you back right now, not…I don’t even know what this is. What is this?”

  Tamara leaned her cheek against the seatback and stared at the floor. There was still sand in the upholstery.

  If she couldn’t tell Piper…she couldn’t tell anyone.

  “I love him, Piper. I know it’s stupid and you’re probably going to tell me I’m dumb, but I fell in love with him before I really knew him and…I lost him. He was right. I shouldn’t have compromised who I am just to get a job. And…the test-list-thing isn’t about me. It never was about me. It’s about him and being accepted, and…I love him. And I didn’t listen to him, and he didn’t listen to me, and now I can’t get him to talk to me.”

  “This is a side of you I’ve never seen.” Piper curled up in the passenger seat, mimicking Tamara’s pose, except she reached across and grasped Tamara’s hand. “I hate him for doing this to you.”

  “Please don’t hate him. I love him too much for you to hate him.”

  “He’s upset my best friend so much she’s actually crying real tears. I mean, do you realize you’re crying?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can we—can you be done crying? Or do you need to cry some more? I’m really weirded out by the crying. Miranda and I are the criers. You are not supposed to cry. Stop it.”

  Tamara laughed even though it squeezed out a few more tears.

  “Okay. Get out of the car. I’m driving. I make no promises about hating or not hating.”

  Tamara gave over the driver’s seat, relieved to not be saddled with the responsibility of getting them to the hotel.

  “Talk to me about HitPoint. What’s going on there?” Piper shifted the car into drive and merged into traffic.

  “I don’t know. Josh was going to be away this week, and we are supposed to talk later today, but…I don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, it’s like Adam tainted the whole thing. I can’t be excited about the show after everything that happened with Stephen. If Adam hadn’t been there, if he’d have just dropped this shit with me, maybe Stephen would still be in my life? I pushed him into being part of my world without really preparing him for it.”

  “Then tell them you’re not interested anymore. Move on.”

  “Who are you, and what did you do with Piper?”

  “I know. I know, it’s unlike me to say—move on. But…that’s what we talked about this week in therapy. Letting go of stuff. Moving on. I’m…I’m going to try dating again. Seriously. Well, not serious dating, but serious fun dating.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes. Nothing huge, not until I come back here, but soon.”

  “Can I help you set up a profile?”

  “Yes, it’s going to take all of you bitches to help whip this into shape, but it’s beyond time. Now, back to you and HitPoint. What do you want to do?”

  Tamara chewed her lip for a minute.

  Screw it.

  She pulled out her phone and dialed Josh’s number. It rang through the speakers a few times.

  “Hello?” Josh’s voice rumbled the subwoofer on the car.

  “Hey, Josh, it’s Tamara.”

  “Hey! I was going to call you tomorrow. You caught me at a good time.”

  “That’s good.” She glanced at Piper, who gave her a thumbs up.

  “So—”

  “Actually—”

  “Go ahead, Tamara, ladies first.” She could see his smile, that enthusiasm she’d liked so much when she met him.

  “I think…I’m going to have to consider other options, Josh.” She didn’t like saying the words, but if she went forward, everything would be colored by the loss of Stephen. And maybe Piper was right. Maybe she just needed to move on.

  “No, please don’t say that, Tamara. Who are we losing you to? We had a really good vibe going on.”

  “You aren’t losing me to anyone, it’s just—with the way things went down…”

  “Can I stop you right there? The guys and I talked and…we’re really—collectively, I’m speaking for all of us—we really don’t like how our meeting ended. I don’t know what your working relationship with Adam is—”

  “There is no working relationship with Adam.”

  “I’ve heard he’s a difficult character to manage.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “We feel really responsible for not stopping him or saying anything. It’s clear he doesn’t play well with others, and that’s not what we’re about. We really like the ideas you brought to the table, and I’d be a fool if I didn’t beg you to at least reconsider. I promise we’ve got a great, professional team behind us. And on a personal level, I really…”

  Tamara wiped away the tears. She couldn’t speak. Her throat was closing up, her vision was blurry. What the hell was wrong with her?

  “I really respect you, Tamara. And I’m talking as Josh, not Producer Josh. My little sister really admires you and your friends. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that a big part of me wants you on our show because of her. Because I want to give my sister someone she can watch and listen to that speaks to where she’s at. And that—that’s what we want to create. That’s what we’re about. It’s not as mainstream as Legend, but that’s okay. We don’t have to be.”

  She blew out a breath.

  Piper reached across and squeezed her hand.

  “Tamara?”

  “She says yes.” Piper grinned.

  “I’m sorry—who—”

  “That’s Piper Erin.” Tamara swiped at her cheeks.

  “Shut up. Piper, really? You know, my sister has a poster of that Link cosplay you did. It’s so cool. It’s great to meet you. Sort of.”

  Tamara glanced sideways at Piper. If she wanted to get back in the dating pool, Josh was as good of a pick as any…

  “Crap, ladies, I’ve got to run. Tamara, please reconsider? Can we talk tomorrow?”

  “She’ll be on your show,” Piper yelled over Tamara’s attempt to say a simple, “Yes.”

  The call ended and they both sputtered, laughing.

  For now, she needed to focus on the conference ahead of her.

  A full weekend of panels, workshops and the costume contests were barreling down at them and Tamara didn’t know if she could survive it. At least she had Piper there. One thing was right in this world, the rest? Well, she’d have to figure it out eventually.

  Stephen shouldn’t be proud of himself for making it to class two days in a row, but he was. He’d even showered and scrounged up clean clothes, though the beard was still a thing. He just didn’t have the energy to shave.

  Maybe that’s what he should make next.

  A shaving robot, so sad, pathetic losers like him wouldn’t have to bother with it. And after that he could invent a man-muzzle to keep his mouth from opening before he’d had a chance to think.

  Class was done at least, so he didn’t have to be quite so on with the students. He retreated to the back of the lab where he’d stashed his bag, because the lure of his phone was too great to resist. And what else did he have to do, besides stalk Facebook for the latest snapshots of Tamara and then draw them over and over again?

  He still couldn’t get that wrinkle right.

  She was at something called CosCon and there were easily a hundred pictures of her snapped from every angle. He could track her progress though a day, stalking her every move, thanks to the casual Instagrammer. At least Adam wasn’t attending. He’d also taken to keeping an eye on the man. After the sewage that man had spewed out of his mouth, Stephen would rather be aware of him than…what? What was he going to do? Follow Tamara around like a ninja stalker, just to get between her and Adam? Right. Because she’d ever stand for that.

  The message icon hovering on his screen was…surprising.

  Piper.

  He hadn’t interacted with her since�
��the beginning.

  He clicked the icon.

  Call me.

  Her phone number.

  Was she with Tamara? Had they made up? If he asked, would Piper tell him how she was doing?

  He’d assumed the girls had made up. They’d been photographed together. The four of them. And several of just Piper and Tamara, looking awfully friendly. He hoped they’d made up. That all was right in their world.

  Stephen clicked the number and pressed the phone to his ear.

  It rang. And rang. Straight to voicemail.

  “Hi Piper, it’s Stephen—”

  His phone beeped with an incoming call—from Piper.

  He switched lines, far too eager to speak to anyone connected to Tamara.

  “Hello, Piper?” He turned to make sure the students weren’t anywhere near him. If he had to beg, he was about to.

  “You are a fuckface,” she said, voice dripping with venom.

  “Piper?” Stephen didn’t deny the charges.

  “Yes. I cannot believe you,” she muttered. Something like a door clanged in the background. Sounds echoed. “You had no goddamned right to tell Tamara to man up and have some self-respect. Do you get just how screwed up that is? And testing her?”

  “Yeah. I was out of line.”

  “You—what? Yes. Yes, you were.”

  Silence.

  “How is she?” Stephen couldn’t help himself. He needed to ask, to see if he could get a real answer.

  “Oh, no. You don’t get to ask about her.”

  “I know, you’re right. I was wrong.”

  “And—what? You’re just—what?”

  “I don’t know.” Stephen scrubbed a hand over his face. He really needed to lose the beard. “I screwed up. Badly. I don’t know how to fix this. What I said…I shouldn’t have. I was just so…angry.”

  “What about that fucking list?”

  “The list was a mistake. I never—I wasn’t thinking things through when I made it. I want to fix this, but I don’t know how. She has to hate me.”