Romancing the Nerd (17 page)

My heart races as I play my tuba, dancing in unison with the band and the cheerleaders, and it’s kind of hard to play the instrument when my mouth wants to break into a huge smile. And, as expected, Principal Brockner is just as into the spectacle as everyone else. I even see Mr. Drew up there by the projector doing a little shuffle.

The song evolves into sort of a tribal beat that’s easy for even the most rhythmically challenged person to clap along with. Then we all join the cheerleaders in one of the school’s most well known chants. It ends on, “We are the mighty, mighty Chiefs!” Everyone knows to stomp on the last word and it’s like Louisiana just witnessed its first earthquake.

There’s a tiny moment of silence, then the crowd roars and chaos ensues. I’ve never seen this school so pumped. Nor have I ever seen it so…together? The cheerleaders and the band line up then run at each other, high-fiving. The basketball team takes turns rubbing Colin’s head for luck and he’s eating it up. I really hope they win this next game because that could turn Colin into a lucky charm. Heck, it could become a tradition, making future equipment managers a big part of the team.

I duck into the hall in front of the locker rooms because as much as I love the togetherness of it all, I’ve never been a fan of crowds. I take a seat on one of the wooden benches and prop my tuba next to me. I allow myself some time to bask in the glow of maybe changing the lives of future Natchitoches Central students. I mean, I know this newly created sense of all-for-one isn’t permanent, but it feels like a start.

Chapter Twenty-One

Dan

When I got back home after watching the Scotts injure and yell at each other all in the name of family togetherness the other night, I found Dad in his office. I asked something like, “Are we cool?” and all I got from him was a stern nod and a grunt. And that’s kind of what I’ve gotten from him all week.

“Hey Dad, want to watch the new
Walking Dead
with me?”

Grunt.

“Did you see that ludicrous display last night? The Saints seriously need to up their game, am I right?”

Grunt.

“I’ve decided to join the Rebel Alliance, Dad. Do you think Grandpa Vader will have a problem with that?”

Double grunt.

I gave up after that one.

Saturday afternoon, I hear something coming from the kitchen downstairs that I’ve only heard twice before in my life: my parents fighting. I can’t hear the whole discussion, but I do make out a few choice words from my mom. “Donkey’s behind” and “stubborn mule” are very clear. A few minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.

“You may enter,” I call.

Dad opens the door and leans against the doorway. “Son, your mother and I just had a talk.”

I snort. “So that’s what we’re calling it?”

He clenches his jaw and I remind myself to reel in the smart mouth routine.

“As I was saying, your mother and I understand that you have a lot on your plate. And maybe I’m putting too much pressure on you. So, I’m going to ease up because you’re my son and I don’t want you to burn out. But that doesn’t mean—”

I finish his thought for him. “It doesn’t mean that I can go crazy. I still need to be responsible, get good grades, great grades if at all possible. You’d like for me to finish out the basketball season, but only if I want to. And I’m allowed to take a break from the diet every once in a while. Did I get all that right?”

He looks down and shakes his head. Did I just make it worse? Am I about to lose any and all privileges? Or more importantly, did I just create a rift between Dad and me that will never close?

Just as I’m about to take everything back, he laughs, big and loud. “No, you didn’t get it all right.” He slaps a hand on my shoulder and shakes. “You’re wrong about the diet. I never want to see another piece of lettuce in this house unless it’s covering a big juicy burger.”

We both smile at each other, and he squeezes my shoulder so hard it hurts. The gesture is not meant to be intimidating. I know my dad. It’s meant to represent a hug. It’s meant to stand for an “I love you, son.” So, I mirror the gesture, squeezing his shoulder and smiling. And instead of saying, “Now that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” I hold my tongue. Looks like everyone is making emotional progress this evening.

He leaves after making me promise that we’ll catch up on
Walking Dead
later and I check my phone again. I got a message from FinityGirl/Zelda on Monday saying that she’d talked her parents into coming to Natchitoches for New Year’s Eve, since they have relatives here and that we should meet. This makes the Zelda situation a million times better because now I know she wants to own up, make things right.

But first I want to do something special for her. She wanted revenge when she created FinityGirl, so tonight I plan to give her her satisfaction. The idea struck me when Logan asked me if I was coming to LARP tonight. At first I almost said no because Dad and I still weren’t right, but I remembered what happened in the last game with Zelda. I’ve spent most of the day working on my plan and I think I finally have it perfect.

I didn’t want to, but I asked Maddie to make sure Zelda was there tonight. The cheerleader will hold this favor over me for the rest of my life and that sucks. The things I do for love.

It’s the usual pre-game scene at Tommy’s when I get there. I’m wearing normal clothes, so a few people ask where Craytor is tonight. I give them all an automatic, “He’s here. I just didn’t feel like armor tonight,” because I’m concentrating on finding Zelda.

She’s sitting next to Maddie, hovering over a notebook, writing furiously when I find her.

“Ladies.” Just saying that one word and knowing it’s partially directed at Zelda causes a little piece of my existence to fall into the right place. I haven’t talked to her in what feels like forever, but it’s really only been days. I realize now what I was doing every time I tried to rile her up over the last year. I was trying to keep her a part of my life by any means necessary. But that tactic isn’t going to work anymore.

Why did I like FinityGirl so much? Because she was everything I missed about Zelda. How could I not have figured it out sooner?

“Hey Dan,” Maddie says kind of loudly, and I realize it’s the second time she’s said it. I’ve been standing here staring at Zelda with a goofy grin on my face. Thank God, she was concentrating on writing and not on seeing me act like a lovesick idiot.

“Yeah, hey. What’re you guys doing?”

Maddie flips through the LARP of Ages manual she’s holding. “Throwing together a character for Zelda to play tonight.”

“What a fortuitous coincidence.” I pull out a folded sheet of paper from my back pocket.

When Zelda still doesn’t look up, I scowl at Maddie and mouth the word, “Go!”

She gives me a pleading face and also mouths, “Please let me stay.”

I shake my head and motion for her to stand and get the hell out of here.

Her shoulders fall and she finally leaves.

I sit next to Zelda and place the sheet on her notebook. She frowns at me, confused. Her eyelids are covered in solid shimmer and her arms and collarbone are dusted with more shiny stuff. Her nebula-like eyes bore into mine, and when I combine them with all the glitter on her skin, she’s like the galaxy.

“What’s this?” She unfolds the paper.

“I took the liberty of making a character for you.”

It was tough including all the attributes I wanted because you only have a certain amount of points to create a brand new character.

“I based her on you. Everything I think you are. Or at least as much as I could get.”

“My physical appearance is really high…” She raises a suspicious eyebrow at me, and I just shrug unapologetically.

“So is my cunning and manipulation.”

“I had to be honest. But I consider those good qualities most of the time. It takes a sharp mind to manipulate things.” I catch Maddie over by Logan. He’s making a pain-filled face because she’s squeezing the shit out of his arm while she stares at us.

Zelda pulls my attention back to her as she reads from her character’s backstory. “‘Bella the elf has a history with Craytor the dwarf. He killed her sister, and Bella would not hesitate to attack Craytor on sight.’ What’s that all about?”

I lean back in the chair. “Just spicing things up a bit. So, will you play her?”

Her gaze wanders over the other players then back to the sheet. “Okay. Um, thank you?” I hear the question in her words and wonder if she doesn’t trust me still.

“You’re welcome. Have fun.” I stand, nudging the manual toward Zelda so she can look up the special powers her character has, and go over to Tommy.

He looks up from his as-always thick stack of notecards. “Hey Dan, glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, um, I’m going to need a gamemaster right off the bat tonight for a fight.”

He tucks the notecards into a big pocket on his wizard robe. I’ve really got his attention now. “Oh really? You’re fighting someone? Who?”

“Zelda’s new character.”

Zelda

My immediate reaction to Dan creating a character for me is suspicion. But I’m trying to turn over a new leaf, right? I’m not judging people anymore. I have faith in people now.

I wasn’t even going to come tonight because Bronla’s death was still so fresh in my heart, but Maddie was insistent.

“You can’t let a character death get you down. If you don’t get right back on that horse, you might not ever come back. You need to start a new character immediately,” she’d said, and I couldn’t argue with her logic. I came, but I did myself a favor and wore all my favorites. A lacy, cream cardigan went over my Jane Austen quote T-shirt. A navy skirt with tiny white polka dots contrasted perfectly, in my opinion, with knee-high black-and-white striped socks. Classic Converse and a rainbow scarf completed the ensemble. I twirled in the mirror, my skirt fluttering just like the princess dresses I used to wear when I was five years old and felt totally comfortable. Screw a bunch of fake armor, knowing Jane is with me is all the confidence I need.

The game starts and it seems like there’s nothing special going on tonight. It’s just one of those games for the players to work on the overarching plot of the season. When Dan comes over to me with Tommy in tow, I really start to regret coming. His fingers aren’t crossed so his character is actually approaching mine. Why is he doing this? Why would he create a character for me that’s no match for his, then add that my character would attack his on sight? Is he really that cruel? He’d have me go through a second character’s death so soon after Bronla? It’s the height of asshatiness.

I cross my fingers to signify that I’m speaking out of character. “Is Craytor really walking up to Bella right now?”

He nods solemnly. “Yep.”

I want to run, but I have to stay true to the character. I take a deep breath, resigning myself to my fate. “Okay, I attack.”

I roll the dice and get a pretty decent number. Despite the good roll, Craytor barely takes any damage.

“I take my helmet off,” Dan says, never taking his eyes from mine.

I cross my fingers. “Why would you do that? It’ll reduce your defense.”

He just shrugs.

“Okay, that’s your one action for this turn, Dan. Zelda, your turn.”

I attack again and still don’t do anything more than a scratch.

He removes his chest plate this time. It goes on like this until he’s gotten rid of his full suit of armor. Now that he’s practically defenseless, he’s going to do something crazy, right? He’s going to whip out some new spell he got with the XP from our big mission, thereby rubbing it in my face that I died and he didn’t.

I don’t cross my fingers when I ask, “Why are you doing this?”

He looks at his feet, then back at me, and his expression has completely changed. It’s become something I’ve never seen before. Dan always has something going on in his eyes. There’s always a quality of mischief or sarcasm behind them. The corner of his mouth is frequently quirked up, conveying condescension or an upcoming clever quip. But right now what I get from his expression shocks me. All I see is sincerity.

“I betrayed you, Bella. I know the reasons don’t matter to you. I betrayed you and I’m sorry. Our feud has raged on for years now, but in that time I’ve been charmed by you. I’ve fallen for you. I want our anger with each other to end, and the only way that can happen is if one of us dies. Since I would rather slit my own throat than hurt you, I put my life in your hands.” He swallows hard, and I feel like the sense has been knocked out of me. He’s not talking to Bella, he’s talking to me.

Maddie lets out a long sigh from next to me, and I realize for the first time that a crowd has gathered.

Everything has just flipped, and I can’t face his sincerity any longer. I don’t deserve him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dan

I totally blew it
, is all I can think as Zelda turns on her heels and fast walks into the house. I look around, and everyone’s face is either full of pity as they stare at me or shock as they watch Zelda leave. Maddie is the only one smiling in the entire backyard.

“What the hell? Why are you smiling?” I yell at her.

She smiles and shakes her head like I’m not understanding something.

Logan puts his hand on my back and shoves. “Go after her, you dumbass.”

It takes me a second to gather my courage, then I nod and take off. I weave through players and dart to the front yard. I’m just in time to see Zelda pull away. Well, she’s not getting away that easily. I jump into the monstrosity while I keep an eye on her taillights. She turns right onto the next street, and I’m pretty sure she’s heading home.

I try to get her to stop because if she makes it inside her house before I can catch her, I’m done for. I flash my lights, I honk, I even call her, but she hardly even slows down and she doesn’t answer her phone.

We make it to her house and she pulls into the driveway. I’m right behind, but she crosses her lawn in a sprint. “Zelda!” I call as I reach the door right as she slams it behind her. “Zelda, come on! Talk to me, please!” I bang on the door and wait, but there’s no answer.

I’m about to bang again when the door thankfully opens. Mrs. Potts stands there.

“Um, good evening, I was wondering if I could speak to Zelda?”

She looks down the hall then back at me. “She said to let you in, but—”

I don’t allow her to finish, which is rude, I know, but I have to press my advantage. “Please, Mrs. Potts. I just want to talk to her and make sure she’s all right.”

She stares me down for a second then takes a cautious step back to let me in. I make it down the hall to Zelda’s room and peek in. I find her on the floor by her bed, her computer in her lap.

“Z?”

She looks up, and it hurts so much to see her cheeks damp with tears. I sit down next to her, and that impulsiveness that she stirs in me takes control. I wrap an arm around her and her head falls onto my shoulder. I wait and wait and not once do I get impatient. If it were up to me, I could sit right here like this with her for years. Ya know, as long as people brought us some Hot Pockets and apple juice every once in a while.

Soon, she gets her breathing under control and sits up. “I can’t lie to you anymore. Here’s the truth. I’m effyeahFinityGirl and I did it so I could get back at you for being a jerk and now I realize you aren’t the jerk I thought you were. I mean, you can be a jerk, but not too bad, and definitely not as big of a jerk as I can apparently be and just… Here.”

She turns the laptop so I can see what she’s pulled up. There are tons of screen captures of our chats. Every instance I was even the tiniest bit insulting to anyone, she caught it. Clever girl.

I close the laptop and put it on the bed behind us. “I don’t care.”

She blinks a few times out of shock, causing another tear to roll down her cheek. “What? How can you not care? I’ve been tricking you for weeks and you don’t care?”

I shrug. “Well, technically, you weren’t tricking me for as long as you think you were. I’ve known for a while.”

She leans away from me, her expression slowly transforming from shock to disgust. Then she slaps my chest so hard that I know I’ll have a Zelda-hand-shaped red mark there for at least a few hours.

Zelda

“
How long have you known?” How long has he let me live with this guilt? How long did he allow me to suffer?

He scoots about three feet away, rubbing his chest. “Since the day after
The Super Ones
premiere.”

That was a week ago. He let me feel horrible for a whole week. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He straightens, his chin tilting up a little. “It’s like Wipoo said—”

“Who the hell is Wipoo?”

“The big bear in my living room?” He speaks fast, exasperated at having to explain. “He was a bear, like Winnie the Pooh, I was like three and couldn’t get all the syllables in there, hence Wipoo. I dream about him sometimes. Anyway, he and Bob—”

I throw my hands up. “Who the hell is—”

“It doesn’t matter! They said that every person has a story and it’s my job to listen to it. I didn’t want to scare you off. I wanted you to come to me. I wanted to hear your story. But I couldn’t wait any longer. But that’s okay because the story isn’t over yet. Our story is just beginning.”

I see that usual twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “How long did it take you to come up with that little speech?”

He smiles. “Like most of second period on Thursday.”

I wipe at my tears and let a laugh escape.

Everything turns into a happy blur as he leans in, then grabs my face. I wrap an arm around his neck and pull him into a kiss that’s like our first, comfortable and exhilarating, but there’s something new about it, too. I relish the feel of his lips on mine. They’re cool and smooth and everything I want in this quick second. Then I realize what’s new: trust.

I totally trust him when we slide all the way to the floor. I trust him when he interlocks our fingers then brings them to his mouth for a quick peck. I continue to trust him for the next good fifteen minutes of his mouth on mine.

There’s a loud bang, causing us to jump.

“Holy shhhh,” Dan says and looks around.

My mom’s voice causes my cheeks to heat up even more. “Don’t mind me. Just doing the dishes. Here. In the kitchen. Because I’m still here and stuff.”

I laugh a little, and he smiles. He takes my hand.

“Want to go back to the game? If we don’t tell the cheerleader that everything is okay, she’ll start calling and won’t stop until we pick up.”

I nod. “Good idea, but I have one more question.”

He rubs a hand over his face. “Dear Lord in heaven, what is it?”

“Who’s Bob?”