The Summer I Became a Nerd

#10

There’s a staircase to my right that leads up to the second floor. Ahead of me is the kitchen where a man sits in front of a

laptop at the dining table. He’s surrounded by stacks of papers and folders.

“Hey, Dad,” Logan says and looks around like he’s expecting gremlins to jump out at him.

“Hey, bud. What’re you doing home? Thought you were at the store today,” his dad says without looking up from the computer. He

’s a burly, balding guy with glasses and a mustache.

“Mom let me have the day off. Dad, this is—” Logan stops when the ceiling above us rattles like someone just dropped a bowling

ball. Screams and giggles echo down the staircase.

Logan’s dad stares at the ceiling and yells, “What was that? What’s going on up there?”

A high-pitched child’s voice answers, “We’re okay!”

There’s another scream, and the ceiling thumps again. The thumps move to the stairs. A little girl flies down them, followed by

another girl who’s at least a few years older. A boy who looks to be about twelve is last. They zoom past us and head directly

for Logan’s dad.

“Daddy, I was just trying to play sparkle ponies, and Jonah said I couldn’t—”

“I didn’t do anything. She was bugging me about her stupid hairbrush for her stupid horses and—”

“They’re not stupid!”

“I tried to tell them you were trying to work, Daddy, but they wouldn’t listen, then Jonah jumped off his bed—”

“I did not jump on my bed, I—”

“I didn’t say ‘on,’ I said ‘off.’ Gah, Jonah, you never listen to anything anyone—”

“—so then he took Miss Pinkstar and started swinging her around by her hair, and I said—”

Logan’s dad raises his hands, and there’s instant quiet. “Jonah, don’t mistreat other people’s things. Go back to your room

and continue doing whatever it was you were doing. Also, try not to jump off your bed so hard.”

The boy, Jonah, turns to go back upstairs, grumbling the whole way. He has the same scattering of freckles as Logan.

Logan’s dad continues, “Vera, please help your sister find her sparkle pony hairbrush and, Moira, don’t scream inside, baby. We

use our inside voices when we’re in the house, right?”

“Okay, Daddy,” the littlest, who is Moira, answers and goes back up the stairs. She’s wearing the most adorable polka-dotted

sundress I’ve ever seen.

Vera goes to follow her sister but stops when she notices me. “Hi, I’m Vera. You want to play Candyland?”

“She doesn’t want to play Candyland. Go help Moira,” Logan says as he ruffles Vera’s curly, blond hair.

Vera bats at Logan’s hand and says, “Okay, I’ll go find Candyland,” then darts upstairs.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Logan says in a whisper.

“I actually really like Candyland,” I say.

Logan rolls his eyes before turning back to his dad who is already immersed in the laptop screen again. “Dad, this is Maddie.

Maddie, this is my dad, Steve. Have you filled Leeloo’s water bowl today?”

“Hi, Maddie, and yes, I have. Your mother put you up to this, didn’t she? I swear, I forget one time, and it’s like I’m

completely neglecting the dog forevermore.”

“No, she didn’t put me up to it.” Logan grins as he motions for me to follow him. “Want to hang out for a bit?”

“Sure.” I’m dying to see his room. What kinds of nerd treasures await?

At the top of the stairs, we go right, in the opposite direction of the tiny voices. As we walk down the hall, I glance into a

couple of random rooms. What the house lacks in size, it makes up for in comfort. One room is pink, pink, pink. The bed is a four

-poster with a frilly canopy. What a lucky little girl. In another room, Jonah sits at a desk with Legos. Whatever he’s building,

it’s massive. Logan leads me to a room at the end of the hall.

He pushes the door open. “I just want to get a couple of things, and then we can go.”

We walk into what must be his room. The walls are painted a sky blue. Various movie and video game posters are tacked up. More

action figures are scattered on his nightstand and computer desk. His bed is made, but there’s a pile of dirty clothes hidden

behind the open door. I wish I could decorate my room exactly like this, except for the poster of a busty Lara Croft.

At the bookshelf, he tilts his head to read the spines.

“Can I ask you something?” I’ve been dying to ask him this question ever since my first excursion into The Phoenix.

He pulls a book off the shelf. “Sure.”

“How did you know it was me? The other day?”

His blue, blue eyes travel from my toes to my forehead. I start to feel a little fidgety under his stare, so I sit down on the

bed.

He comes over and sits next to me. Our thighs touch, and it takes all my effort not to lean against him. My heart feels like it’s

knocking on my rib cage.

In the ten months I’ve been dating Eric, I can’t remember ever feeling this way. Not when he kissed me, not when he gave me

flowers for Valentine’s Day, not even when he wore a tux for prom.

Right now, I feel like if I don’t touch Logan’s freckles or wrap my pinky finger around his, I’m going to spontaneously

combust.

“Your hair,” he says eventually, and my hand automatically goes to tuck it behind my ear, but it’s in a ponytail so there’s

nothing to tuck.

“My hair?”

“Among other…things. Your voice, the way you purse your lips when you’re concentrating. I sit two seats back and one row over

from you in English. I see a lot of that ponytail.”

“Oh.” I pause as the gears turn in my head. “Is that why you pretended to see something behind me?”

He nods. “I was pretty sure, but I had to see your hair to be positive.”

He smiles, and we both just sit there for a second, staring and smiling, until a little voice says from the open door, “Are you

guys going to kiss?”

We both jump. Logan sort of coughs before getting up to close the door. “Good-bye, Vera.” When he turns around, awkward isn’t a

strong enough word to describe how I feel.

Desperate for a distraction, I point to the book he’s holding. “What’s that?”

“This”—he holds it out to me—“is what we’re going to do today, if you want to. I thought you might like it.”

The cover has three very cool looking characters on it: a sexy girl elf, a dwarf with a long red beard in a business suit, and a

vampire in a policeman’s uniform. The title reads: LARP of Ages.

“I’ve heard of this. Live-action role playing, right? I think I’ve seen some videos on the internet. Guys dressed up, running

around the woods, throwing ping-pong balls that are supposed to be lightning bolts at each other…”

“There’s more to it than that,” he says with a playful punch on my shoulder. “I thought we’d go down to the riverbank and

create a character for you. Even if you don’t want to go to a game and play with everyone else, creating a character is fun.”

“I hate the riverbank.”

He crooks an eyebrow at me. “Why?”

“I’m scared of the geese. When I was five, my mom took me down there to feed those horrible beasts and one of them nearly took

my hand off.” A shiver runs through my body just at the thought of those beady eyes focusing on the piece of bread I held in my

hand. “I have a better place.”

…

When we pull up to the aquarium, Logan says, “Nobody’s here.”

“Yeah, isn’t it awesome? Terra and I always come here when we skip school.”

We walk into the small reception area. They don’t even have anybody who watches the place—it’s just open to the general public.

On the walls are posters of animals commonly found in Louisiana and a map of the fish hatchery that sits behind the aquarium.

There is a guest book, though. I flip through the pages to a few weeks ago when Terra and I decided to take the day off from

school. I point it out to Logan.

The corner of his mouth edges up. “Which one are you? BlairFanone or BlairFantwo?”

“Two. Terra’s status as Allison’s number one fan can never be challenged.”

He laughs. “Of course, what was I thinking?”

The fish room is oval shaped and about as big as my living room, which isn’t saying much. It’s lined with aquariums that hold

many creatures I could probably find in the pond by my grandparents’ house. There’s a lazy snapping turtle, a bass, and an

enormous albino catfish that has been here forever. Terra and I dubbed him Mr. Whiskers at the beginning of the year.

Logan and I make the round going from glass to glass. The only light in the room comes from the aquariums. Distorted by the water,

it reflects onto Logan’s face, giving him his own energy signals.

Once we say hi to Mr. Whiskers, we take a seat on one of the two benches. Logan hands me a notebook. I open it to a blank page as

he opens the LARP of Ages book.

“So, basically, there are a bunch of different types of creatures you can be. Depending on which creature you pick, you get a

certain amount of points to spend on different attributes and items. I think you’d be a perfect elf. They’re really fast and

smart, so they tend to use a bow and arrows or magic, but they also have the potential to become voracious hand-to-hand fighters

with knives or swords.”

He speaks so fast my head is spinning. “Hold up, what are attributes?”

“You know, stuff like agility, appearance, strength.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling stupid.

He picks up right where he left off. He talks about the different powers I could have and the different items like armor or

healing potions. After another hour and a half of me asking tons of questions, I have a character. She’s an elven princess named

Laowyn whose people have sent her out into the world to “discover” herself. And I love her and she’s awesome. I even start to

imagine her wardrobe.

Logan looks over my character sheet. “I think you’re good to go. So”—he folds the sheet in half—“do you want to go to the

game with me Saturday night?”

Silence settles in as I look around at our audience of aquatic creatures. My eyes linger on Mr. Whiskers, like maybe he’ll notice

me looking at him and tell me what I should do. His mouth opens and closes a few times like he’s trying to answer me, but that

doesn’t help.

A week or two ago, this kind of thing would be so not doable. But, man, this sounds like fun. I mean, I’ve actually been inside

The Phoenix three times now and my world hasn’t imploded. It’s just like NerdCon, I guess. There’s no way I’ll know anyone at

this thing.

I turn to Logan, and he’s folding and unfolding my character. I smack his hands.

“Don’t do that, she’s fragile.” I take the paper from him. “How can she be ready for epic LARPing if she’s all rumpled?”

“So, you’ll go?” The hopefulness in his voice tips the scales.

“Yes, I’ll go. But only if I get to dress up.”

“You’ll like it, I promise.” He leans back against the wall with a satisfied sigh.

I watch Mr. Whiskers for a while. The water trickles in the aquariums. Everything is calm. Everything except my mind. It’s

charged with Awesome Logan electricity. I’m aware of every little detail of him: the weave of his jeans and the smudges of ink on

his forefinger and thumb. Are those goose bumps on his arms? Are these goose bumps on mine?

This is such a strange feeling. I’ve never felt it before. My mind keeps telling me this is wrong, this could ruin everything,

but I feel so right. To be here with him, to be me, to be me here with him, just to be.

“Let’s play a game,” he says, and I jump like I was just caught surfing the comic book database website.

“What game?” I ask.

“Top Two and This or That.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll start with a top two question, and you have to say what your top two of whatever is. Like ‘What are your top two colors?

’ Mine are green and black, by the way, even though black technically isn’t a color but an absence of color or light or

something—” He catches himself babbling and shakes his head, but I could listen to him ramble for hours. “Anyway, after we both

ask a top two question, then we switch to a this or that one that’s like which thing do you prefer, this or that. All you have to

do is answer honestly and as quickly as possible. If you ask out of turn, you must do a dare. Okay?”

“Sounds fun. Go for it.”

He stands and puts his hands behind his back as he paces. “What are your top two movies?”

“Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and Tangled.”

“Tangled? Really?” He raises an eyebrow.

I pull my legs up underneath me, crisscross applesauce. “Hey, don’t mock me. You said to be honest.”

He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair. “That I did. Your turn.”

“Okay, top two desserts?”

“That’s hard. I’ll go with my mom’s peanut butter cake and those little apple pies they have at gas stations.”

“Really?” He could pick anything, and he goes with gas station pastries?

“I’m a simple guy with simple tastes.” He shrugs.

I just shake my head and grin. He sits back down, and my knee touches his thigh. My grin disappears. He leans forward, puts his

elbows on his knees, and tilts his head to look into my eyes. His face is so close I can see he wears contacts. So do I.

“Glasses or contacts, which do you prefer to wear?” he says, taking the words from my brain.

“Glasses. I still get the heebie-jeebies every morning when my finger gets close to my eyeball.”

He laughs again. “Me, too.”

“Marvel or DC?” I have a feeling which comic book publisher he’ll choose.

“DC, definitely.”

“I knew you were going to say that. You seem like a comic purist.”

“Excuse me, some of the greatest fictional characters ever conceived have come out of DC. What does Marvel have? Wolverine? A

hairy guy with claws? Come on.”

“Okay then, Superman or Batman?” I say, trying to stump him.

“Nonapplicable, I’m a Green Lantern guy.” His eyes widen, and he points a finger at me. “And you just asked out of turn.”

“But you didn’t answer with this or that.”

“Doesn’t matter, the question was invalid.” He rubs his hands together. “Let’s see.”

I can feel my face warming up, but I can’t stop smiling. What is he going to dare me to do? I know what Eric would dare me. It’d

probably be something inappropriate. What would I do if Logan dared me to kiss him?

“I dare you to…”

He pauses, and I want him to say it. I want him to want a kiss, because I realize I’d do it so fast it’d make his head spin.

“I dare you to do your happy dance,” he says instead.

“Happy dance?”

“Come on, everyone has a happy dance.”

“But… I have to be extremely happy to do a happy dance. It’s not something I can just, you know, jump into.”

“How about I give you some inspiration.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses a few buttons. A song with an upbeat

keyboard begins, and Logan stands up. The happy lyrics say something about a birdhouse and a bee. He waves his hand at me to

follow. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he looks at me expectantly.

I stand up to face him and try to sway a little. He shakes his head as he turns the volume up.

“I just can’t, I’m not happy enough.”

“Pretend like the Natchitoches Central Chiefs just won the Super Bowl.” He bounces a little more enthusiastically.

“That’s good, I guess.” My sway becomes a little more pronounced. A smile takes hold, not because of the thought of the Chiefs

winning the Super Bowl, but because Logan is such an awkward dancer. He’s gone from bouncing to alternating snaps of his fingers

as he bobs his head. Plus, he’s a little off rhythm.

“There’s a Tangled marathon on in two minutes!” He has to yell over the music now.

“That’s better.” I start nodding my head to the beat.

“It’s Christmas! You just got your Hogwarts acceptance letter, a copy of Action Comics #1, and a brand new car that runs on

water!”

“Hell yeah!” I scream and let go.

My arms wave over my head. I jump and spin. My ponytail whips around, sticking to my lips, but I don’t care. I do the twist, and

Logan does the robot. His ears are super red, and our breaths are turning into huffs. And yet, I can’t stop. I just keep dancing

and singing along until we both collapse on a bench, laughing uncontrollably.

When we’re leaving, Logan pauses at the door, then doubles back.

“What is it?” I ask

He grabs the pen hanging by a chain above the guest book. “We forgot to sign.”

“That one doesn’t work, never has.” I hand him a pen from my purse. He hunches over the book to write.

When I try to see what he wrote, he closes the book and waves toward the door. “Ladies first.”

I laugh a little and shake my head as I go in front of him.

…

That evening, as I’m waiting for Logan’s show to come on, Eric calls. It’s weird because, when my song/ringtone plays, I

automatically get all these happy feelings, and my stomach does somersaults. But, when I see who’s calling me, my heart drops.

I need to handle this. I can’t be hanging out with Logan, dancing with him and meeting his parents, and still technically be with

Eric. It’s not fair to either of them. But I’d be losing the cheerleader-dates-the-quarterback piece of my carefully crafted

popular persona, and I’m not ready to risk it. Not yet.

I don’t answer the phone.