Revenge of the Geek Read online

  “Together?” I repeated. “Wait . . . you mean, together together? As in dating? You’re kidding, right?”

  Nora nodded. “Why? He’s sort of cute.”

  “Ugh,” I said. “I mean, that would be like dating my brother. If I had a brother. And if that brother spent all of his free time playing disturbing video games.” I shook my head and opened the front door. “I’m going to forget you even suggested it.”

  Nora giggled. It was the first time I’d really heard her laugh. I grinned back at her.

  When I opened the front door, Willow was already there waiting for me, her long body wriggling happily.

  “Hi, girl. This is Nora,” I said, stroking my dog’s pretty brindle head.

  Nora hesitated, looking warily at Willow. Which was odd. People usually love meeting Willow. She was sweet and beautiful and not even the tiniest bit aggressive. Willow’s only enemy was Madonna, Hannah’s white puffball of a cat. Every time the two of them got into a tussle, Willow came out on the losing end. She’d had her nose scratched enough times that it made her jumpy to even be in the same room as Madonna.

  “I’m not really a dog person,” Nora said.

  “Don’t worry. Willow’s really sweet,” I said.

  Willow stuck out her long nose and sniffed in Nora’s direction, but didn’t approach her. Instead, the greyhound turned back to me for some more love. I was surprised. Normally, Willow loves to meet new people. I gave her back one last scratch and then said, “Come on. Let’s go find out what Finn’s up to.”

  It didn’t take long to find him. Finn was sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away on Hannah’s laptop, while she—wearing a Bluetooth earpiece—stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. The whole thing was bizarre. Hannah and Finn barely knew each other. And, to make the scene just that much odder, Avery Tallis was perched on one of the tall stools lined up next to the kitchen island.

  Avery—who had a thin, pointed face and short, dark hair—used to be at the beach house all the time, back when she and Hannah were best friends. But then Hannah discovered that Avery had stolen an expensive cashmere sweater out of Peyton’s closet, and that had—I thought—ended their friendship.

  What is Avery doing here now? I wondered.

  Avery turned to look at me with narrow, clever eyes, and smiled slyly. Avery didn’t like me. It all started when I wouldn’t do her math homework for her, and her dislike for me had only grown once I started dating Dex. Avery had wanted to go out with him herself.

  “Hi, Miranda. How’s life at that weird geek school?” Avery said.

  “Just fine, thanks,” I said coolly. It was one thing when the kids at my school called it Geek High. It was a joke, an affectionate nickname. It sounded completely different in Avery’s sneering tone.

  Finn and Hannah looked up from the laptop.

  “Hey, M,” Finn said. “How’s it shaking?”

  “It’s shaking just fine. What are you doing here, Finn?” I asked.

  “He’s helping us launch our new Web site. For Match Made,” Hannah explained.

  “Match Made?” I repeated.

  “That’s what we’re calling the new matchmaking service. You know, it’s from that saying ‘A match made in heaven.’ ”

  “Or a match made in hell,” Finn murmured.

  “Don’t you like it?” Hannah asked, looking at me anxiously.

  “Actually, I really do like it. But who’s the we? You and Finn?” I asked, hoping, hoping, hoping that wasn’t it. The idea of Finn being involved in a matchmaking service was truly horrific. He would see it as a goal—no, not just a goal, but a personal calling—to set up the most hideous, disastrous dates possible, just to amuse himself.

  “No, not Finn. He’s just helping with the Web site. Avery and I are going to run the business,” Hannah said. “Hi. Are you a friend of Miranda’s?”

  In my shock at finding Avery—not to mention Finn—in our kitchen, I had completely forgotten about Nora. Especially since she’d been so quiet, standing behind me, just inside the kitchen door. Nora looked nervous, her shoulders hunched, one arm wrapped around her torso. It seemed she was trying to take up the smallest amount of space possible.

  “Nora, I’m sorry,” I said, turning to her. “Come on in and meet everyone. Well, you know Finn. This is my stepsister, Hannah, and this is her”—I hesitated for a beat—“friend Avery Tallis. Everyone, this is Nora Lee.”

  “Hi,” Avery said, flashing Nora the same fake smile she’d given me.

  “Nora,” Finn said, lifting a fist like a boxer who’d just won a fight.

  “Hi,” Nora said, raising one hand in a meek wave.

  “Are you hungry? Because I’m starving,” I asked Nora.

  “What a shocker,” Hannah said, rolling her eyes. “When it comes to food, Miranda’s a bottomless pit.”

  Ignoring this disparaging comment, I headed to the pantry and began rifling through it. “We have microwave popcorn, or . . . nope, that’s about all we have. Oh, wait!” I reached into the back of the cupboard to liberate a bag of tortilla chips. “We also have chips and salsa.”

  “Yes,” Finn said, holding his arms out and waving his hands toward him. “Yes to all of it. Make it happen.”

  “Actually, I was asking Nora,” I told him.

  “Nora, you’d like the chips and salsa, and the popcorn. And send Miranda out for hot wings, too,” Finn said. “Because I think you just might be extra hungry today.”

  “Finn!” I said, but Nora just giggled and visibly relaxed. Good old Finn, I thought. Sometimes his constant wisecracking came in handy. To reward him for putting Nora more at ease, I handed over the chips and salsa to him.

  “But don’t even think that I’m getting you wings,” I said.

  Nora and I headed to my bedroom with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn. Willow tagged along with us, but Finn stayed with Hannah and Avery to finish work on their Web site.

  “Your stepsister is so gorgeous. And she seems really nice, too,” Nora said, once we were settled on my bed, the bowl of popcorn between us. Willow sat on my side of the bed, looking hopeful that a spare kernel or two would fall her way.

  “Yeah, Hannah’s pretty cool,” I said. “We used to not get along at all, but since I moved in here, we’ve gotten pretty close.”

  “You’re lucky,” Nora said.

  “Are you an only child?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I have an older half brother from my mom’s first marriage, and two younger half sisters from my dad’s third marriage. But I barely know my brother—he chose to live with his dad in Pittsburgh, and only visited us when he had to—and my sisters are practically still babies.”

  “That sounds complicated,” I said.

  “I guess you can say my parents aren’t very good at commitment,” Nora said, her mouth twisting wryly. “Not to each other, or to their kids.”

  I took a handful of popcorn. Willow stretched out her long neck and sniffed in the direction of my snack. I rolled my eyes but finally relented and dropped a few kernels on the ground for her to snarfle up.

  “What’s the deal with the other girl?” Nora asked.

  “Who? Avery?”

  “Yeah. The one who looks like a shark when she smiles.”

  I laughed. “That’s almost exactly what Dex once said about her.”

  “Dex?”

  “My boyfriend,” I said, feeling a little self-conscious.

  “Does he go to Notting Hill?” Nora asked.

  “You really have to start calling it Geek High. Everyone does. Anyway, no, Dex doesn’t go to Geek High. In fact, he doesn’t even live here anymore. He got a lacrosse scholarship to a prep school in Maine. He just left a few weeks ago, and now we’re trying the long-distance thing.”

  “Hey, me, too,” Nora said. “I have a boyfriend back in Boston.”

  “Really? What his name?” I asked.

  I was a little surprised that Nora had a boyfriend. She was so shy, it was hard to im
agine her getting up the nerve to talk to a guy, much less go out on a date with one.

  “Marcus,” Nora said. She sighed. “He’s the reason my mom shipped me down here, although she denies it.”

  “Why? Your mom doesn’t like him?”

  “She’s just a snob. Marcus comes from a pretty rough neighborhood, and he’s been living on his own ever since his mom got busted for stealing someone’s credit card. He’s actually a great guy—very smart, very ambitious—but my mom thinks that anyone who doesn’t live in a suburban house with two cars in the driveway is unworthy of her daughter,” Nora said. She rolled her eyes in disgust.

  “That’s really tough,” I said sympathetically. “Are you and Marcus staying together?”

  “Absolutely,” Nora said, lifting her chin. “I love him, and he loves me.”

  It was the first real spunk I’d seen from Nora. With her eyes glittering and her cheeks flushed with emotion, she looked almost pretty.

  “Good for you,” I said. “What will your mom say when she finds out you’re still together?”

  Nora shrugged. “Who knows? I try to avoid talking to her.”

  We ate some popcorn, and I told Nora about my first assignment for The Ampersand and Charlie’s advice that I needed to impress my editor.

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to write an interesting article about a challenge facing student athletes. Geek High doesn’t have any student athletes. So who cares about what problems they face?” I said.

  “Does it have to be about a problem?” Nora asked.

  “No. Candace—that’s the editor—said I could write whatever I want, as long as it has a student-athlete theme. She said I could do an interview or something. But I don’t even have anyone I can interview,” I said, rubbing my temples in frustration.

  “Didn’t you just say that your boyfriend is an athlete? Lacrosse, right?” Nora said. “Why don’t you interview him?”

  I stared at her. It was so obvious. How could I have missed it? Of course I should interview Dex. In fact, he was the perfect person to interview. Instead of a bland, boring jock story, I could write a piece about the ups and downs of moving across the country to attend boarding school on a sports scholarship. And he’s from Orange Cove, so it would have a local connection.

  “Oh, my gosh. Nora, you’re a genius,” I said, shaking my head.

  Nora giggled. “That’s good, considering where I go to high school.”

  I grinned back at her. “I owe you big,” I said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of Dex right away.”

  “Sometimes it helps to bounce story ideas off other people,” Nora said modestly. “I used to write for the newspaper at my old school, and we were always helping each other out. By the way, how do you get to be on The Ampersand staff? Is there an informational meeting about it?” Nora asked. “I have experience.”

  I shook my head. “The staff spots for writers are so competitive, they actually have a contest for them in the spring.”

  Nora’s face fell. “That stinks.”

  “The magazine wins a lot of national awards, so being able to write for it looks really good on college applications. That’s why they had to limit how many writers they have each year,” I explained. “But if you want, I bet you could work on layout. They’re always looking for people to do that.”

  “Maybe,” Nora said without much enthusiasm.

  I didn’t blame her. Layout seemed incredibly boring to me. I’d much rather create a story than figure out how to fit it onto a page.

  “Maybe if you work on layout this year, you’ll be more likely to get one of the writer spots next year,” I suggested. “The editor in chief is the one who picks who’s going to be on the magazine for the upcoming year.”

  “So basically you’re suggesting I shamelessly suck up to her,” Nora said.

  “Basically,” I agreed.

  Nora laughed. I liked her like this—relaxed, disarmed. She was nice, I decided. And we had a lot in common—parents who’d let us down, long-distance boyfriends. She stood and went to my window, which looked out on the ocean.

  “Your house is amazing,” she said. “I can’t believe the view.”

  “Thanks. Although it’s not really my house. It’s my stepmom’s.”

  “Even so. You’re really lucky to live here,” Nora said.

  “I am?” I said. “I mean, thanks.”

  It was odd being envied for living here, especially since I’d been horrified when, a year earlier, Sadie had announced she was moving to London and that I’d have to move into the beach house until she returned at some indefinite date in the future. I glanced around the room, trying to look at it with a fresh perspective.

  My room—which had once been the guest room—used to be very sterile and white, with low, uncomfortable furniture. But at the end of the summer, in a rare gesture of kindness, Peyton had redecorated it for me. The walls were now a pale blue and there was a thick white shag carpet on the floor. I had a new wrought-iron bed, dressed with a blue and lime green striped comforter, and a black writing desk to work at. I loved the way it had turned out.

  “And it must be amazing to be right next to the beach,” Nora continued. “I’d be out there all the time.”

  “Do you want to go out now? Willow needs to go for a walk, anyway,” I said.

  Nora beamed at me. “Absolutely,” she said.

  Chapter Eight

  Finn was gone by the time I got back from dropping Nora off at her grandmother’s condo. Avery was still at the beach house—I could hear her and Hannah in Hannah’s room, talking animatedly—so I steered clear of them and headed back to my bedroom. Willow was still there, fast asleep on her round bed, snoring softly.

  I texted Dex: SKYPE?

  A minute later, my phone chirped with Dex’s reply: SURE! GETTING ON NOW.

  I opened my laptop and turned on Skype, and a moment later, Dex called.

  “Hi,” I said excitedly when I saw him.

  “Hey, you,” Dex said, grinning at me. “What are you up to?”

  “I just got back from dropping off my friend Nora. She came over after school.”

  “Do I know her?”

  “No. She just moved here from Boston. She’s pretty cool,” I said. “How about you?”

  “I just got back from afternoon practice,” Dex said. He was still wearing his lacrosse shirt and his-hair was damp. “Coach had us running intervals all afternoon. I’m beat.”

  He didn’t look tired, though. His pale blue eyes were sparkling and his cheeks were flushed.

  He looks happy, I thought. Which was a good thing. I wanted him to be happy.

  “Speaking of lacrosse, I need to ask you a favor,” I said.

  “You need a lacrosse-related favor?” Dex asked, his brow wrinkling with confusion.

  “Actually, yes. Yes, I do,” I said.

  “Wait, let me guess: You’ve decided to start a girl’s lacrosse team at Geek High, and you want me to mentor you,” Dex said.

  “Like that would ever happen,” I said.

  “The starting-a-new-team part, or the me-mentoring-you part?”

  “Both.” I smiled. “I’m so uncoordinated that if I tried running around while carrying a long stick and trying to catch a ball with it, something very bad would happen. Something that would end up with me—and probably half of my teammates—in the hospital. No, I don’t want to play lacrosse. I want to interview you for The Ampersand .”

  “Me? Why?”

  “I’ve been assigned to write a piece about student athletes. I thought I could focus the piece on you,” I said. Quickly, I added, “It was Nora’s idea.”

  Dex nodded slowly. “Sure. I mean, I’m happy to help out, but I don’t know that I’d be all that interesting to your readers. Do they really want to read about our practices and drills and stuff?”

  “No, it’ll be great. I’ll focus on what it’s like for you going away to boarding school on an athletic scholarship. You know—how you’re a
djusting, getting used to a new team,” I said.

  “Cool,” Dex said. “Do you want to interview me now?”

  I shook my head. “No, I need to get a list of questions ready first.”

  “Uh-oh. That sounds a little intimidating. Are you going to ask me hard-hitting questions about where I stand on foreign policy?” Dex teased me.

  Before I could respond, though, there was a sudden ruckus on his end of the line. There were some loud whoops, the sound of a door slamming, and then a whole bunch of excited male voices.

  “Come on, McConnell. We’re tired of waiting for your lazy butt,” one of the guys said.

  “Yeah, we’re starving,” another said.

  “What’s for dinner tonight?” a third asked.

  “Meatloaf,” someone responded, to a general chorus of groans.

  “Let’s order pizza instead,” someone suggested.

  I couldn’t tell how many guys were in Dex’s dorm room. It sounded like his entire lacrosse team was there, although surely they couldn’t all fit. Dex was laughing and trying to keep his friends from grabbing his laptop. One of the guys—blond, pink-cheeked, and square-jawed, with eyebrows and eyelashes so blond, they were practically nonexistent—leaned over Dex’s shoulder, and peered at me through the computer screen.

  “Who’s that?” he asked curiously, as though I were an animal exhibit at a zoo and couldn’t understand him. “Is that your girlfriend?”

  Wolf whistles ensued, and more of the guys crowded around the screen to look at me. There were shouts of, “Hi, Dex’s girlfriend!” Being the object of such frank curiosity caused me to blush bright red, from my toes on up.

  “Hi,” I said, with a little wave.

  “She’s pretty cute,” one of the guys said, causing my cheeks to grow even hotter.

  “She’s taken,” Dex told him. He smiled wryly at me. “Can I catch you later? It’s kind of impossible to talk right now.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Go have dinner.”

  “See you later,” Dex said.

  “See you later,” I said.

  “See you later,” some of the guys said.

  Dex hung up, and his picture disappeared from my computer screen. I smiled to myself, even though I was feeling a small tug of sadness. I was glad Dex seemed happier, glad he was making friends. And I hadn’t really expected him to give up on Brown Academy and transfer back to Orange Cove. Quitting wasn’t Dex’s style. But, even so, it was hard not to wonder where he and I would end up, once we both accepted that his life was now up there, so far away from Orange Cove.