How to date a Nerd

Chapter 1

Stealing glances out my window into her, I flaunt around my room pretending like I'm getting ready for the party. But I can't get a good view of her, and I don't want to be more obvious than I already am.

Nothing. Huh, maybe she's not... Yikes! I've reached my Lost playlist and my heart stumbles over itself as I quickly turn the music back down until I can get a more trendy song on.

"Hey, I was listening to that," a voice says from outside my window. I knew she was home. Damm girl ignoring a prancing half-naked girl next door. Gosh, I thought I was doing this right. I adjust my bra to make my boobs look extra luscious, and then smoothly appear in her line of sight.

Lauren is at her computer, books piled next to her. She rubs her eyes and blinks a couple times before staring back at the screen, brow furrowed. Totally not looking at me or my boobs.

"What exactly were you listening to?" I ask, using my seductive voice guys and girl, well, most guys and girls fall over.

Looking at me—about time—she shakes her head at my revealing attire before reaching over to a cord I can't see. She shuts her blinds with a rejected smack!

Youch. I examine my boobs, but there's nothing wrong there. Maybe I have a booger or something. Nope. No booger, no drool, nothing.

Just me.

Great, now I'm all self-conscious. What's wrong with me? I turn around in circles, trying to examine my butt, but all I can think is I miss my Star Wars panties. These lacy ones are okay, Popular Camila 101, but there's nothing cooler than having a big Storm Trooper head slapped across my butt cheeks. Well, if I can't even impress my nerd girl, I'm not going to even attempt a party appearance.

I throw on my pajamas—the big unflattering ones—and slouch on the bed. Stupid geek girl and the hold she has on me. I shouldn't care what she thinks. But I do. Because I care what everybody thinks.

I sigh and look out the window again. The sun dips below the horizon casting orange and yellow streaks across Lauren's blinds, like something out of Harry Potter. Just super full of cool magic beans. I wonder if Lauren's still sitting there at her computer, typing away or plunging her nose into one of her thousands of books.

I shake my head. What does it matter what she's doing? I. Should. Not. Care. I hop off the bed, slam my own blinds shut and whip the curtains together. My gaze flicks to the shelves lining the wall. They have been carefully constructed to conceal accusing material, with colorful doors that slide across it, revealing some things, and hiding others. Out of habit, I check over my shoulder before I slide open one of the doors, hiding the lines of lip gloss and compact mirrors and opening the section of the shelf holding several books about the X-Men.

I quickly grab the desired book and a flashlight and slam the door shut. Some of the lip gloss topples over, but I make no attempt to straighten them. Must get under the covers stat! I curl up in the middle of my bed and throw the comforter over myself.

My sanctuary lies here as I open the book I've read thousands of times and purge my mind with paragraphs about Dark Phoenix. Jean Grey is my idol. No one will ever know, but I base most of my wardrobe off her.

I don't know how long it's been before my phone buzzes on my nightstand. Yeah, my mind turns off to the rest of the world when I nerd-out. I turn off the flashlight and pull the comforter off my head, keeping the book hidden as I reach over for the cell.

My stomach used to flutter whenever I read Austin's name on the caller ID but now I feel nothing. I really don't want to talk to my current boyfriend. He'd call me some absurd pet name and ask where I was. So I let voicemail grab it. I hear the text jingle a few minutes later as I am carefully placing my book back on its shelf.