Once Upon a Comic-Con: Geeks Gone Wild #3

by Dallen, Maggie

  Once Upon a Comic-Con

  Geeks Gone Wild #3

  Maggie Dallen

  Copyright © 2019 by Maggie Dallen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Images © Shutterstock – Look Studio

  Cover Design © Designed with Grace

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Audible Love

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Matt

  Sometimes being a geek had its perks.

  Not often, mind you, but at this particular moment when I’d gotten a free pass to duck out of school mid-day to meet with my editor about a new assignment?

  Life seemed pretty darn good.

  I tapped my foot as I waited for the frazzled online news editor to turn his attention to me. The editor, Grant Lorry, had been the one to call this meeting over my lunch hour, but since I was a lowly high school intern and he was one of the senior editors of our local paper, I refrained from pointing that out. I assumed he was on the phone with one of his reporters and, judging by his terse questions and fierce frown, he wasn’t pleased with the way this conversation was going.

  We could be here for a while.

  I was totally fine with that. This internship was still in its early stages—my newspaper advisor had helped me set it up after winter break to help prepare me before I headed to Stanford University for journalism in the fall.

  Sure, being what Grant called “the voice of today’s youth” for a local online news site was hardly going to earn me a Pulitzer, but it was a start. For the past month I’d been doing weekly features on all local events that fell under the realm of “youth.” Obviously, this was a broad term so I’d been given a fair amount of free rein to pick and choose a more specific focus. Youth activities could have meant local high school sports or the college fairs, but I’d tailored the articles to be about all things geeky in pop culture.

  The editor loved it. “Geeks rule the world,” he’d said.

  This might be true in the real world, but I could tell you from firsthand experience that geeks did not rule in high school. Was that bitterness you heard in my tone? Maybe just a little.

  Okay, maybe a lot.

  This year had been a weird one for me and my friends, and while I bore the blame for a lot of the trouble going on at our school between the cool kids and the geeks, my feelings on the matter were the same as ever.

  It wasn’t fair. Nothing about the high school social hierarchy was fair.

  Life isn’t fair. That’s what my best friends Margo and Suzie would say in response, and to that I’d disagree. Because my editor was right, out in the real world it was the geeks who reigned supreme.

  Think about it. Geeks were typically smart, and intelligence was rewarded in college and in the work force. It was respected. Intellect was a harbinger of success. Not the only factor, of course, but it was often a necessity. And interests in something other than sports? Yeah, that usually proved helpful in the real world too. Sure, the jocks might get some killer scholarships, but unless they went pro, how far was that athletic skill really going to take them?

  I shifted in my seat as the editor looked over at me and held up one finger. Wait another minute, it said.

  I gave him a quick nod. Take your time, I wanted to say. But something told me he wouldn’t relish the interruption. I was here on his time. I should just be grateful to be here at all.

  And I was. I really was. It wasn’t every high school student who got to gain real-life experience in a newsroom.

  I leaned back in the chair and took in the surroundings—the messy desk, the outdated computer, the stacks of files against the walls. I fought back a dopey grin of excitement. This was what it was all about. This was what I wanted to do with my life. Expose the truth. Speak to the people. Set the tone for a deeper conversation on current events and politics in modern day America.

  If I had to start by writing fluff pieces about the grand opening at the new arcade downtown? So be it. I was honored to be an apprentice on the road to journalism mastery.

  I leaned back in the seat, making myself comfortable for what could be a long wait. But waiting here far beat the alternative—eating lunch at the cafeteria of Grover High. Since the second grade I’d been eating lunch daily with Margo and Suzie. But about three months ago, things between us had grown…strained.

  Ugh. Okay, I guess it started before that. Here’s the short version of the story, and I completely understand that after reading this you might very well hate me. Or perhaps you’ll just come to see me as a complete and utter moron.

  In my defense, I was a moron. Or at least, I’d done something fantastically idiotic. You see, it all started over Labor Day weekend way back in August. Suzie had thrown a little back-to-school party at her house. She had the pool and the attendees were me and Margo. Until her brother Dale showed up. Now, Dale was Suzie’s complete opposite. Loud and obnoxious, he was also a basketball player and inexplicably among the most popular of jocks in his junior class. He didn’t just join our quiet little party, he crashed it. His friends started pouring in, along with some loud music and…the keg.

  Yup, Dale had gone and brought a keg to our simple, boring party.

  But wait, it gets worse.

  Suzie’s neighbor Joel, AKA king of the jerky senior jocks, was hosting a party next door for all the worst offenders of the mean girl-slash-jerky jock cliché. This meant that all of the students who’d spent a lifetime mocking us or ignoring us were there to witness the party crashing disaster.

  Why such a disaster? I’ll tell you. Suzie got into an epic fight with her brother. Anyone who knew Suzie well would tell you that she couldn’t say no to a challenge. She looked all sweet and harmless, but the girl was a warrior at heart. She didn’t back down. Ever.

  Not even when her brother challenged her to do a kegstand.

  Here’s where my idiocy really kicked in to an astonishing degree—I took a picture of Suzie’s kegstand. Why? I don’t really know. I mean, at the time I was just so furious with Joel, who kept making fun of us for having a party—making it sound like we had no idea how to let loose, how to have fun.

  Granted, our typical parties consisted of Harry Potter movie marathons and too much popcorn, but it was the way Joel had said it that had made me so angry. It was the way he sneered, the way he smirked, the way he sounded so knowing.

  Like he actually knew us.

  He didn’t. Joel and his friends didn’t know the first thing about my friends, or me, for that matter. They thought they had us pegged but they had no clue what we were really about. They didn’t realize that I was destined to be more successful than all of them combined, or that Margo was braver than the biggest defensive linebacker by a million times over, or that Suzie could come up with a million different ways to take them down, all while sitting there quietly in the back of a classroom.

  So yeah, what I did next was dumb beyond belief, but I was fueled by rage.

  After helping Margo take ca
re of a sick-as-a-dog Suzie, I stayed up thinking. Fuming. They fell asleep and I took off. We were supposed to hand in our “what I did last summer” photos for a senior slideshow and the deadline was that next day.

  I submitted the photo.

  I know. Idiotic. I talked to my boy Howie who ran the AV Club and convinced him to slip it in among the other photos. I used the phrase that Joel had shouted out “geeks gone wild” as a sort of middle finger for the jerk who thought he knew us but didn’t.

  I honestly don’t know what I thought would happen. I guess I thought it would be a blip on the radar. A moment that ended just as quickly as it started. A sort of shared joke that my friends and I could have and maybe even make a point in the process. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.

  That’s not what happened.

  Howie wasn’t sure how, but someone in his club accidentally put it at the end so the photo froze on the screen. There in all its glory was evidence of Suzie drinking and Margo rocking a bikini.

  It wasn’t until that moment that I realized with absolute clarity what a gigantic mistake I’d made. Long story short: they both got in trouble, with their parents and at school. I felt horrible and wanted to apologize but before I could they went and blamed Joel. Was it cowardly to let him take the blame?

  Yes.

  I was a coward.

  I figured why not let the jerk take the blame? He’d done enough mean acts in his life, what was one more? That was surely a better alternative than ruining our best friendship. Besides, I’d told myself, this will all blow over soon. Once they were done with their tutoring punishment it would all be water under the bridge…right?

  Wrong.

  So so so wrong.

  The hashtag I’d used on the photo took on a life of its own. Soon #GeeksGoneWild had gone viral and people were tagging one another left and right. Sometimes as a joke—friends tagging friends—but sometimes as a way to mock and humiliate. It was another way for Joel and his buddies to pick on my friends.

  Once again, I thought it would blow over.

  It didn’t.

  I may have then made things just a teeny bit worse by attempting to get revenge in the form of a site called GeekBook, but eventually Margo brought me to my senses and I stopped it. I realized that while getting revenge was fun and all, it had only managed to escalate the war going on at school.

  I was the bigger man and took down the site. Eventually, far too late, I came clean to Suzie and Margo.

  Suzie forgave me pretty easily—too easily, probably, but she was going through a rough time when I came clean and I think she realized that she’d rather have our friendship than stay angry. I was still working on making things right with her.

  Margo, on the other hand…

  Well, I’d love to say that I was working on making things right with her, but that would mean she was speaking to me.

  She wasn’t.

  Suzie said I should give her time, but months had gone by and she was still giving me the cold shoulder. We still shared the same best friend and the same lunch table—though now we were joined by their boyfriends, Jason and Luke—but we were no closer to being friends than we had been the day I confessed to my idiocy.

  Anyway, all of this was to say…I was totally fine skipping lunch since lunch had become a painful game of who could make it the least awkward, Luke or Jason? Between Jason’s easy nature and Luke’s jokes, they were probably the only reason lunch was even bearable these days. Not that I would openly admit to that, I was hardly their biggest supporter when Margo and Suzie first started dating them. But I could admit that out of all the jocks I knew, they were the least jerky, and when it came to easing tension, they were in their element at our table.

  If I were there right now, I’d be facing a glare from Margo as Suzie anxiously sat between us trying to keep the peace, while Luke and Jason attempted to smooth it all over like a couple of athletic diplomats.

  Fun times, right?

  “All right, Cartwright.” The news editor set the phone down beside his laptop and fixed his sights on me. “Thanks for coming in.”

  “My pleasure,” I said.

  “We’ve been really happy with the work you’ve been doing with your weekly feature,” he said. “We’ve seen an uptick in readers of a younger demographic, which the higher-ups love.”

  I nodded, trying not to look too excited by the praise but probably failing. “That’s great. I’m happy they’re happy,” I joked.

  He didn’t smile. I had yet to see Grant Lorry smile.

  “We need to send someone to cover the upcoming comics convention in Philadelphia next week.” He leaned his elbows on the desk. “Normally I’d ask one of the guys from the arts and entertainment section to go, but I talked to my boss and we both think you’d be the best fit.”

  I sat up straighter. My first real reporting gig. Up until now I’d just been writing about topics that randomly came to me, but this? This was an assignment. One that would mean a special pass and access to famous people and…

  My excitement raged inside of me but I tried to play it cool. I forced myself to lean back and adopt the same sort of serious expression he wore. “I would definitely be up for that.”

  “You know much about the world of comics?” he asked.

  “Uh, sort of.” I cleared my throat at the way he arched his brows ever so slightly. “I’m not an aficionado, but I read them occasionally.”

  There was no way I was going to lie about my knowledge. I’d learned my lesson about lying this year, thank you very much. And lying to a guy whose job it was to suss out the truth? I didn’t want to put his skills to the test with something as stupid as fibbing about comics.

  “Well,” he said as he handed me a laminated pass. “You’re about to become an aficionado.”

  “Yes, sir.” I took the passes with as much calm as I could muster. “There are two passes.”

  “Yup.” He didn’t seem impressed by my comment. “You can bring someone if you want, but don’t forget to keep your focus on the story.”

  I nodded. “And, uh…” I cleared my throat again as it occurred to me that I might be asking a really dumb question. “What exactly is the story?”

  He arched his brows again and I caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I don’t know, kid. You tell me.” He leaned over further like he was letting me in on a secret. “I got you the access, now you dig up the story.”

  I nodded, feigning far more confidence than I was feeling. “You got it, sir.”

  “Good.” He stared at me for a full second. “Now get out of my office.”

  “Oh. Right.” I leapt up like my butt was on fire and held up the access badges. “I’ll make you proud, sir.”

  He nodded. “You’d better.”

  Chapter Two

  Julia

  For a day that ended so poorly, it started off ridiculously great. I mean, it wasn’t every day that I showed up to find a stuffed bear holding a heart in my locker.

  I’d be the first to admit that my senior year had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start. I mean, not as bad as some of my peers, thanks to that stupid hashtag going around, but not a stellar start either.

  While I still had my spot on the cheerleading squad, I’d started the year single thanks to my breakup with Robert over the summer. No big story there. He’d gone off to college and wanted a fresh start. I hadn’t loved the idea of a long-distance relationship. It had ended the same way it had begun—civilly, pleasantly, and without a lot of fireworks.

  Now, before you go thinking I was feeling sorry for myself, I was not. I’d never been the sort of girl who sought out drama. In fact, I pretty much avoided it like the plague, along with every other form of conflict. Blame it on the fact that my parents were a straight-laced pastor and a former pageant queen, but I’d been raised to believe that some things were personal and not meant to be shown to the world.

  Like emotions.

  Perception was everything, as my mother liked
to say.

  My father didn’t have a catch phrase for it, he just taught me from an early age that everyone had problems and we could either focus on them, or focus on making other people’s burdens a little lighter with a smile. He often preached that while we can’t control what life throws at us, we can manage our reactions.

  Their views on the world fell on opposite extremes, in some ways, but I supposed you could say that I’d found a way to reconcile them. I tried to go through life with a smile, and I did my best to stay away from conflict and drama at school.

  Not always easy when some of my friends seemed to live for that sort of thing, but I managed.

  I grinned down at the bear in my hands as a pair of burly biceps wrapped around my waist. “A heart for my sweetheart.”

  I laughed at Ryan’s cheesiness and turned around to give him a big kiss on the cheek. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “You’re my girl, right?” he said. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the chauvinistic sentiment. “Thanks, but Valentine’s Day isn’t until tomorrow.”

  “Maybe I wanted to get a head start.” He gave me a charming grin that made it impossible to argue. “We still on for the dance tomorrow?”

  I nodded. For the first time in forever, Valentine’s Day fell on a Friday, which meant the yearly Valentine’s Day dance fell on the actual date. Of course I’d be going with my boyfriend. Boyfriend. Ryan and I had made it official a couple months ago, but I was still adjusting to the new status.

  I’d be the first to admit that I hadn’t seen this coming. By ‘this,’ I mean us. Me and Ryan as a couple. At the very start of the year I’d gotten it into my head that Jason Connolly would be my boyfriend—not because I was so crazy into him or anything, just because we seemed to be a good fit. He was the quarterback and I was the head cheerleader. Not to mention, he was nice and funny and we’d always gotten along well. I sort of figured the only reason we’d never paired up was because we’d never been single at the same time. But then this year, we were. Our senior year and we both just so happened to be flying solo. It seemed like fate, right?