Your Not So Average Nerd

Chapter 3.

"Right now, you and I are going to settle our differences. There's only one way I know how to do that, so I'm going to let you into your locker only if you promise to come with me after," Jake said with what seemed to be a very sincere look on his face.

"Why would you ever want to settle our differences? This is the first time you've even looked in my general direction in two years, besides that our encounter a few months ago. Even then I'm not sure you really looked at me."

"Oh, keeping tabs on me are you," Jake retorted. I'm pretty sure that was only to get a reaction out of me. Too bad it worked. My face is now going on to its sixteenth shade of red. "Well, I'm doing it for the, uhh, project. Of course."

I send Chris a text to tell him that I'll be home eventually. It's Friday after all, and even though I got grounded yesterday, my mother would never know. She doesn't understand that to enforce a grounding you actually have to care about where your daughter is.

"Fine, but I'm really only doing this so that I can get into my locker before we die of old age," I said. I'm pretty sure Jake would have only stood there until he was hungry, but still it seemed easier to agree at the time.

That was at the time, though. "There is no way I'm getting on that death trap."

"Come on, Peanut! It's just a motorcycle, no death traps here. I ride it every day and I'm still here. I wouldn't go too far into the forest though. I set up some traps for rabbits. Won't want you getting stuck in one now would we," Jake said with the cockiest grin on his face. Nerd jokes have no effect on me, but short jokes are different. I hate short jokes, and that's why he uses them against me. He knows me all too well, and I hate it. How someone like Jake can know me better than a friend like Greg is beyond me. Some things just really do not fit together when it comes to life. That puzzle piece analogy is such a lie.

Motorcycles were seriously the worst invention ever. It's been a good 45 minutes, and I'm still plastered to Jake's back holding on for dear life. And it was not attractive in any way to be riding this. I don't care if I can feel his abs through his dark gray shirt and black leather jacket. I was holding on for fear of dying. God, I hate motorcycles. This is definitely not how I wanted my weekend to start out.

At least I could not see his eyes at the moment. I'd probably fall off if I could. He could undeniably use those things as weapons.

Wait, no stop thinking that!

It's been too long to go down that road again, and there's no way I'm letting him hurt me this time.

We finally arrive at... Actually I'm not sure where we are. It kind of just looks like a farm. Looking around for a few seconds, I turn to ask Jake why he took me here.

Apparently he did that whole dematerializing thing again. I turn back to the acers and acers of corn stalks wondering what we could possibly be doing here.

"Put it on, Peanut, I would not want to ruin that fifteen year old t-shirt you have on," Jake says white throwing a plastic-feeling white suit in my direction.

"Is this like Wonka-vision or something? Because you're going to have to kill me before I wear this unless we're going into the Chocolate Factory."

Jake snorts, "Oh that's right. Well I'm sorry, I'm the only one around, and I forgot how much you wanted to impress me. I'm just so insensitive."

"Where the hell are we anyways?" Ignoring his comment, I put on the suit. He's right, I really don't want to ruin this shirt. It has a freaking turtle on it after all. Why destroy a good t-shirt with a turtle on it?

"You mean you do not recognize it?" I turn to Jake. I do not ever recall coming to a farm.

"Well, that's good because you've never been here. And congratulations. You're the first girl I've ever taken to the farm I grew up on." I gap at Jake with wide eyes. That's good for me and all, but the idea of Jake growing up on a farm is just too unbelievable.