The Hot Nerd (editing)

stupid glasses*

stupid glasses

*edited*

My alarm buzzed next to my ear and I got up. Monday morning. I sat at my vanity and brushed my long wavy dark brown hair, applied minimum make up, then stared at my glasses that were lying in front of me. Taunting me.

Do I really need to wear those?

Then I remembered the last time that I didn't wear them. Let's just say, I'm now banned from the tea set shop in the mall. Sadly, I came to a conclusion that I needed to wear them. I reluctantly picked them up and shoved them on my face. I looked in the mirror. Stupid glasses.

"Bye mom." I said as I slipped out of the front door.

A car full of boys sped by. They catcalled like crazy, which made me look down and blush. As I looked down at the sidewalk, my glasses slid off of my face and hit the cement. I bent down to pick them up just as a car came by. Mud was splattered all over my black t-shirt and dark jeans.

"Shit." I said under my breath. I picked up my glasses and realized that the wire frame was bent. "Shit!" I said a bit louder and straightened out the frame as best as I could.

I trudged unhappily to school. Normally, I love Mondays and school. (No, I am NOT a nerd.) It just seems like a bad day. There must be a full moon tonight or something.

I walked through the large main entrance and quickly walked, very nearly jogged, to my locker. As I approached my standard navy locker, I saw that Arin was standing at his locker (which happens to be right next to mine) with his bitch of the week.

Arin is Morning Sun High's player. And the love of my life. I know, I know. How cliché is it that the nerd (which I am not!) falls for the bad boy? Well, the answer to that is: very. It is very cliché.

The bitch this week is Chloe De Luarents. The head cheerleader and my mortal enemy. I know, another cliché.

Forget nerd, why don't we just go with walking, talking, Personification of all Clichés?

"Hi nerd. How's band?" She asked as I approached. She pretended to push gasses up her nose while her eyes were crossed.

"I'm not even in band," I deadpanned. I wasn't like any of her brain washed clones, which is probably why she doesn't like me so much. I absolutely, positively despised Chloe. Like I do my glasses.

"That's hilarious!" Chloe laughed, holding her stomach. "You're so much of a reject your own kind won't even take you!"

I ignored her, holding in the hurt. I grabbed my history book and headed off to first period. I was almost there when somebody put their hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, sorry 'bout Chloe. She can be a bitch sometimes." Arin said then smiled apologetically.

"Chloe? Bitch? Can? Sometimes?" I said incredulously.

Arin laughed. I thought it sounded genuine. And dear lord I hope I'm not swooning. "Okay, so Chloe is a bitch."

"That's more like it," I said. Oh my god, I'm actual talking to him. Hold in the fan girl, Lacee.

Then, the most unbelievably glorious thing happened. Arin flashed me a blinding smile and- sheepishly?- asked, "Do you want to go out sometime? Friday at nine?"

"Yeah," I breathed. A big goofy grin spread across my face. Alright, now I'm definitely swooning. I started to blush, so I looked down at my shoes. Then my glasses fell off my face. I bent down to pick them up and so did Arin. Arin picked them up first, and stood up first. I went to stand up, but somebody gasped , which startled me, so I paused. Right in front of Arin's crotch.

"Lacee! Stop sniffing! It's not fit for school! Besides, we have to get to first period." Someone yelled My face flushed and everyone else in the hallway laughed except for Arin and me. I snatched my glasses from Arin's hand and ran to the girls bathroom.

"Lacee, wait . . ." Arin's words trailed after me.

I ran into the girls bathroom and started sobbing. I'm a very emotional person. And no that does not make me a nerd. Weak, yes, but not a nerd.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice asked. I looked up to see the new transfer student, Arizona, standing before me with a worried expression on her face. She's really cute with wide light brown eyes, short dark brown hair framing a round face, with curves to die for.

"Chloe's a bitch." I hiccupped. No doubt that was her in the hallway. I suddenly felt very self-conscious next to such a pretty person and wrapped my arms around myself.

"I know," Arizona laughed. "She's been making my life a living Hell because I wouldn't give her my seat at lunch. So now she's saying that I go to Chicago on the weekends to pursue a career in prostitution."

"Well she's made my life a living Hell since third grade because I wouldn't I wouldn't let her use my crayons." I said and laughed, realizing just how ridiculous that was. Arizona joined in and we laughed together.

"Why don't we get you cleaned up?" Arizona asked, sighing.

She pulled me over to the sinks, and I inspected myself in the mirror. Mascara was running down my face. I looked like a raccoon. The sight of myself made me laugh. Arizona tried not to laugh out of politeness as she slipped my glasses on my face.

I could hardly make out Arizona's shocked expression on her now-fuzzy face.

"What?" I asked, worried she might belittle my looks. Maybe she was like Chloe after all?

"You're so pretty!" Arizona exclaimed suddenly. "I can't believe this! Why do you wear these glasses? Well, I mean, of course your eyesight. But why don't you get contacts? A face like this should be shown off!"

I giggled nervously. I felt guilty for a split second. I had never had one of my peers complement me like this. "Well, my parents don't think they're necessary. So when I turn eighteen, I can buy them for myself."

"I get that," Arizona nodded. She wet a paper towel and started wiping around my eyes. "Listen, I don't have anyone to sit with at lunch. Do you think you could save me a seat?"

I smiled, picturing my normally empty table. "I think I can swing that."

"Awesome," Arizona said and smiled.

That is the day that Arizona and I became best friends. Wow, a best friend and a possible boyfriend all in one day. You're stepping up in the world, Lacee Hera.