Ch. 7 - Not Like Most Geeds

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"What the hell is this, Chapman?"

"It's exactly what happened."

"You're seriously handing me a fucking prom-posal right now?" Kevin hands me back the article I spent the whole weekend writing. I guess he thought me asking Aiden on another date was a little bit too cheesy. "This isn't what I want."

I look down at the copy of my article. "But I can't write what you want. The guy wasn't the douche we were expecting." I keep out the part about the bet.

"Then you lose highlight story of the month."

My eyes widen. "What? No!" I try to come up with a way to fix this.

Joseph made a good point, that my future career is more important than winning back some boy I barely know. But at the same time, I agree with Sophie that it isn't really fair for me to write a mean article about him, when he wasn't mean at all.

"Give me more time. I can make it a series! I'll go on multiple dates!"

He debates my proposal. "I'll give you a month. See what you can come up with. But I'm not promising you highlight story."

"I'm okay with that!"

"Do you really think this kid is going to go on another date with you?" He asks.

I scoff. "And why wouldn't he? I'm not like most geeds."

Kevin rolls his eyes and sits back at his desk.

It's my cue to leave.

I downloaded Tinder on my phone yesterday so I could message Aiden privately, not through Sophie's phone. Sophie and I spent about three hours trying to formulate a text to send Aiden.

What we decided: Hi.

Yep, it took three hours for us to decide on "Hi."

He hasn't responded yet. Maybe he's sleeping off his hangover. Was he even drunk last night? I'm sure he was. Why else would he have admitted the bet?

"He hates me," I say as I swing open my apartment door. "He hates me! Still no response!"

"And what would his reason be for hating you, Miss Brooklyn?" Sophie asks. "He doesn't know about the article. He's honestly probably embarrassed about the bet! As far as he knows, he's the asshole." She laughs to herself. "He has absolutely no idea that you, in fact, were the asshole!"

I let out a short breath of laughter through my nose. "Should I text him again?"

"No," she says. "You don't want to seem clingy. Frat boys don't like it when girls do that."

"I think maybe I should say I'm sorry, so he knows I'm not mad?" I suggest.

Sophie shakes her head. "Come here," she pats the couch to invite me to sit next to her, "what did Kevin say about the article?"

"He said he's giving me a month. It's going to be a series of dates." I bite my cheek. "It'll be really embarrassing if I have to come back to everyone at the paper and tell them I couldn't get a second date."

"You'll get a second date."

I shrug. "I doubt Aiden will want anything to do with me now that he lost the bet. I ruined his chance to become the president."

"Didn't you say it was a really good date?"

"Yeah," I say, "but how could it not be a good date? You've seen him. He's a chiseled god." I think about last night. "And he's so sweet. He really cared about me and I thought we had such great conversations and—"

Sophie drops her jaw. "Shut up! You have such a big crush on him!"

"What?"

"You have a crush on the president of STD!" She stands up from the couch. "I never thought I'd live to see the day! My best friend has a crush!"

"I've had crushes before," I say and cross my arms over my chest.

She pinches her lips together. "On who? Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael B Jordan? They don't count, sweetheart!"

I laugh. "Why not? I'm still holding out on the day MBJ asks me on a date."

She laughs and holds my face in her hands. "You, my dear, have fallen for a frat star. And I am living for it."

My phone dings with a notification from Tinder. It's Aiden.

Without hesitation, I scream and throw my phone across the room.

Sophie dives for it, crawling on the floor to reach my phone. She screams and waves my phone around in the air. "It's Aiden!"

"What did he say?" I say, way too eagerly. I cough. "Not that I care."

Sophie laughs and hands me my phone. "See for yourself."

Hey, Brooklyn. Here's my number, [#]. Give me a call when you can.

My eyes widen. "Oh my god. He gave me his number."

"Call him!"

"Right now?"

"No, in three weeks. Yes!" She shakes my shoulders. "Call him right now! But don't sound too desperate."

"How do I do that?"

She shrugs. "I don't know."

"Oh, thanks for the help," I say. My hands are shaking with my thumb close to the call button. "I don't think I can do it." I run and lock myself in our bathroom.

"Brook, you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say and rest my back against the door, sliding down to the floor. "I'm going to do it."

And I press call.

It rings.

Rings.

Rings.

Rings.

"He's not going to answer—"

"Brooklyn?"

I stop mid-sentence at the sound of Aiden's voice. "Uh, hi! Hi!" Dammit, too desperate. "Uh, I mean, hey, man. What's up, bro?"

He laughs softly. "I'm happy you called."

"You are?" I cough. "I mean, yeah. Yeah."

"Yeah."

I can picture him smiling into the phone. He's so handsome. This is so bad. "What did you want to talk about?" I ask.

"Oh, right. I really wanted to apologize for the stupid bet thing. It was so stupid. I should've told you beforehand too."

I could hear the guilt laced in his voice. "It's okay. You didn't have to tell me about it, but you did. And I respect that."

"Yeah, I completely understand why you left." He lets out a deep breath. "I'm an ass. I should've made sure you got home okay. I was just embarrassed."

How is he so sweet? Is he real? Am I being Punk'd?

"It's okay, Aiden. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks, Brooklyn." He clears his throat. "I, uh, I wondered if maybe you wanted to get food sometime this week when you're not in class. I mean, if you want to. I get why you wouldn't want to."

Oh my gosh. I got the second date. How do I act cool about this? I tap my feet against the floor to let out my excitement. I can't believe he actually wants to go on another date with me.

"I'll let you know when I'm free," I say, biting my tongue to hold back any squeals.

"Okay, awesome. Bye, Brooklyn."

Without hesitation, I swing open the bathroom door. "I got asked on a date!"

Sophie and I dance around the hallway, giggling and squealing like two middle schoolers.

Suddenly, I hear a noise come from my phone. Oh no.

"Uh, Brooklyn, I'm still here."

My Date with the Frat President: How To Embarrass Yourself in Front of Your Crush 101

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