How to date a Nerd

Chapter 10

But there's a tension in the air I can't ignore. Our stuttered breathing patterns, the heat radiating off our bodies, the building sweat on her forehead, and the pounding my heart makes in my ears. Goosebumps erupt over my skin like it's trying to reach out and close the distance between her fingers and my leg.

I close my eyes and hold my breath. My hands clench around the pillow on her bed as I fight every urge to knock the stupid tweezers out of the way and tackle her to the floor.

"There." The air I've been holding flutters out in small wisps as I look at the giant sliver she pulled from my leg. "Thank you."

"No problem." She pats my leg as he stands. Then as if she's forgotten she's avoiding touching me, she jerks her hand back and hides her face.

I tuck my legs back together, smiling at her reaction. Standing, I tug the sweatshirt down so she doesn't see my underwear. I don't want to make her uncomfortable. "So, uh," he stutters, "why are you in my room?" She's still not looking at me as she crosses to the desk to put the tweezers away.

"Oh, well, um." Great. Now I'm the one stuttering. I'd completely forgotten why I flew myself across our houses with the temporary distraction, but now it zaps back to my head. My eyes flicker to the blinking light on the machine right as she turns around.

"Camila," she says smiling, "did you leave an embarrassing message on my phone?"

Crap. Before I can move to delete the darn thing, she bolts past me, reaching for the play button.

I jump on her back, making her lose her balance and smack into the floor. I straddle her, pinning her arms down with my knees. She's laughing hysterically but stops when she hears the dreaded voice I can't stop in time.

"Hi, Lauren. I-It's Dad."

Her smile fades, and her mouth opens wide. She's staring right into my face, but I know she's not really looking at me. She's listening to every word of that message. And with each word, her eyes shine more and more with tears she's forcing back.

This is the face I didn't want to see. The pain and shock and just... everything I can't make better. I don't know how. I just don't want to see this look on his face ever again.

We don't relax after the message ends. We sit in a tense silence, me still on top of him.

What do I say? What do I say?! "Are... are you okay?" I know it's a dumb question, but it's the only thing in my head.

She nods, but it's too rapid to be the truth. I take my knees off her and sit to his side. She still doesn't move. I don't know what to do. Or if I'm even the right person to do it. She's just lying there, staring at the ceiling with that horrid expression still glued on her face.

Come on, Camila. You used to be good at this stuff. Especially when it came to her. Because nothing else comes to mind, I grasp her hand, which seems to bring her back to life. She stares at it, her brow furrowing like I've suddenly grown fur or something.

Maybe that wasn't the thing to do. But she pulls me down on the floor and holds me against her side.

A few minutes ago, this would've made me incredibly happy. To lie here in her arms and feel her warm body against mine, but right now I feel sad for her. I rub her chest, and she holds my hand there.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into her armpit. She squeezes me tighter, still not saying anything. I reach for the blanket I dropped on the floor earlier with my toes and pull it up over us. She lets me use her arm as a pillow, and I trace the words on his T-shirt, which I didn't notice until now, say Dr. Jekyll.

Finally, after almost an hour, she says something.

"You awake?" I look up to see her face, but her eyes are closed. I nod and snuggle into her more. "I never thought I'd hear his voice again," she says over my head. "When he left, I thought he'd be gone for good."

Now I'm the one who doesn't say anything. I can't think of the last time Lauren talked about her dad. And that's not because we've had a falling out. Ever since her dad left, it was a forbidden topic. Like saying Voldemort.

"You heard the message, didn't you? That's why you risked your neck to get in here?"

"Uh... yeah,"I answer. She pulls my chin up so I can look into her green, watery eyes. "I didn't know I could count on you like that."

Something inside me whips around like beaters mixing cookie dough. I'm suddenly aware of how vulnerable I've become with her. How I want to melt into her. How much I want her to kiss me and never stop. And maybe I could keep it all a secret. Hide it from everyone at school. From my friends. From my family. From everyone. But I can't do that to her. She deserves more than that. More than me.

I want to shove my insecurities away. Make them all disappear somehow, but I can't find the strength. Half of me gets excited envisioning her hand around mine as we walk down the halls at school, but the other half starts hyperventilating to the point of getting sick.

And then everything else shoves itself into my mind. How high school will become middle school all over again.

The whispers.

The shouted insults.

The disgusted looks from people I thought were my friends.

The desperate attempts to be liked for who I really am, and failing.

Crying over the gossip.

Crying over the hurt feelings.

Crying over everything. Just because of what I like. Of who I like.

It's better to pretend. It's better to be fake because it hurts less.

I shrug out of her arms and swipe my cheeks before Lauren can see. She sits up and watches as I strip the blanket off and walk to the window.

"You should probably take the stairs." Her voice sounds defeated, but it's probably more due to her dad than me. Though she knows what goes through my head most of the time, I doubt she knows how screwed up I am.

"I'm not supposed to be out this late. I don't want to get caught."

"I don't want you to get hurt." She glances at the clock. "And your parents aren't home yet. Just hurry."

She's right, and I'm trying to ignore that she still knows this much about me and my family. I get to the door, resting my hand on the knob. "You'll be okay, right?" I ask. "Yes."

I pause, blowing up my cheeks. "What's wrong?" she asks, slowly getting to her feet.

"I worry about you."

She smiles—that beautiful smile that plays my heartstrings like a harp. "Do you... I mean, are you up for another driving lesson tomorrow?"

"I thought you worked on Tuesdays." Again my mouth shoots off before I can control it. If she realizes how much I know about her she's going to think I'm a stalker.

"Not this week."

"Oh." She chuckles as she waits for me to answer, but my mind isn't focused on what she's saying.

"Camila?"

"Um, yeah. Tomorrow's fine." She nods, and I turn back around to open the door.

"Hey," Lauren says, stopping me again.

"Hmm?"I reply

"Will you not tell my mom about this?" I force a smile. "Mom's the word."

"And here." She tosses her jeans at me. "Please don't run across the street without pants on."