The Summer I Became a Nerd - By Leah Rae Miller Page 0,11
loud and twangy. People I’ve never spoken to are now good friends of mine, at least for the night. Terra pulls me over to the fire so the squad can do a senior cheer that ends with Rayann Black doing a back-handspring, then puking behind her tent. That’s about when I start contemplating how I’m going to get home.
“Where are Candy’s parents?” I ask Terra.
“On a beach somewhere. Her older brother is here. He took everyone’s keys before they started drinking.” She nods at a guy wearing a university sweatshirt, which is currently bunched up around his face because he is upside-down doing a keg stand. And there’s Eric right behind him, cheering him on.
“So, everyone’s safe, and no one is going nowhere.” Instead of correcting her on her double negative, I just rub my upper arm. Terra is one of those people who likes to emphasize her words with hand gestures, but once she gets a drink or two in her, she becomes one of those people who smack you in the arm to get their point across.
“I cannot wait for the Allison concert. It’s going to be so awesome,” she says, and on the last smack she misses my arm and glances the side of my boob. “Oh my God, did I just hit your boob? I’m so sor—” She freezes like a coon dog that just heard some rustling in the woods. “Oh my God, I love this song!”
Once Terra skips away to find the source of the music, I find my purse and head toward the vehicles to get some air. I pinball from person to person and finally make it to the improvised parking lot. Only once I’m three rows deep do I let down the tailgate of someone’s truck, hop onto it, and look up. The stars are so bright tonight not even the raging fire behind me can dim their glow.
If I were Wendy, a.k.a. The Bright Frenzy, I could just fly home, which would be the most awesome thing ever. Of course, thinking about Wendy brings Logan to mind. The way his eyebrow quirked up in that rascally manner at lunch today…
…and the little slip of receipt paper in my purse.
#5
It had to happen at some point, right? I can’t keep #400 forever, as much as I want to, especially since he knows my secret.
I take my cell out and dial his number without looking at the paper because I might have stared at it enough times to memorize it. Before I hit the call button, I go over my options one more time. I don’t want to spend the night in a field with a bunch of drunk people—especially not when I’ll have to lie to do it. There is no one at this party I would trust to drive me home right now, and I really don’t want to call my parents. It would only freak them out and possibly get everyone else in trouble. And even though I know my brother would make the hour drive from Shreveport to pick me up, I don’t feel right asking him to do it in the middle of the night.
Plus, I really need to give Logan #400 back.
The downsides are obviously the risk of someone seeing Logan and me together, and the fact I’m calling a guy I may or may not have a crush on and asking him to pick me up from a party I’m at with my boyfriend.
I tap the green button before I can change my mind.
“Hello?” His voice floats through the phone, all calm and collected. Then, I hear a blood-curdling scream in the background.
“Oh my God, what’s going on? Who’s screaming?”
“Hold on,” he says, and then there’s some muffled, scrambling noises. “Dan, turn that down, dude. Blasting the volume is not going to improve your skills.”
“Uh, hello?”
“Sorry, the Xbox was too loud.” I hear a door shut on his end, and everything gets quiet. “Who is this?”
“I…I have your #400.”
“Oh. Well?”
“Well what?” I ask in sort of a snippy tone. Then I remember I’m the one who called him, so I probably shouldn’t act snippy.
“Well, what did you think of it?”
“I loved it,” I blurt out, then slap a hand over my mouth. Even though I know he knows about me liking comics, it stills feels weird actually admitting it.
“I heard it was good. Did Young One die? Wait, don’t tell me.”