How to date a Nerd

Chapter 8

Hi, Camila. It's Camila. We haven't spoken for a while.

"It's not like that," I say, opening my eyes and grinning. I can't help but feel happy she's interested, even though I feel more guilty about the whole make-out-with-random-guy thing.

"Not like what?" She asks. "We're not dating or anything."

She puckers her forehead and her green eyes narrow. Whoops, maybe not the right thing to say.

"You always kiss guys you aren't dating?" Yeah, definitely not the right thing to say. I can hear the double meaning behind the question and my insides turn to mulch. "It was just... a mistake. That's all. I've had a bad week."

That's the understatement of the year.

"Want to talk about it?" Yes. I want to be back in her living room with the Nintendo controller, spilling my guts about how fake and stupid I am, how Austin assaulted me, and how every night I cover myself with my blanket and read comic books. But nothing escapes my tongue. It's too much, and I'm not allowed to dump it on her. Since she's not my friend and all.

"I'm sorry I asked," she says, shifting in her seat. "I just-"

"Worry?" A smile forms on my lips, but I don't look at her. "Yeah." She answers. "Why?" I keep my eyes locked on a speck on the window. "Why what?"

"Why do you worry about me?" I hate it when she hesitates. Every breath I take during the silence I get more and more self-conscious and question why I say the stupid things I say.

"I dunno. I guess I-I'll always worry about you, Camila." It doesn't answer my question, but I don't care. I can't help the smile that glues onto my face as I finally look at her.

"Nice." She furrows her brow at my amused tone. "What?" I poke her shoulder. "Episode 34?"

She raises her eyes to the ceiling and smirks. "Yeah. I think you're right. I didn't mean to steal the line, though. I meant it." I laugh and she smiles with me. "I still can't believe you remember all of it."

"I don't have amnesia. And it hasn't been that long." She nods. "Feels like it has though." There she goes, sucking the fun out of the conversation again. I try to bring it back. "How was the documentary?"

"You really want to know? You did dive out my window to avoid it." Crap. Why do I fall so easily into Geek Camila around her? "No. Just trying small talk," I lie. She takes a deep breath and starts picking at a hole in her jeans. "I'd much rather hear about you."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "You know that thing I walked in on? Did it contribute to your bad week?" Yes, but I'm so not talking about it. "No." Yikes! I didn't mean to sound so rude. Like, we were totally having a good time and I snap at her.

She leans back, her eyes a bit wide. "S-sorry. It's none of my business." What the heck? It's totally her business! I mean, she stopped Austin from... going further. I barked down her throat afterward. And she doesn't look down on me because of it. She worries about me.

Why does she worry about me? It doesn't make any sense! I ditched her. Kicked her right out of my life and kept her far from me so I wouldn't have to endure High School Emotional Hell.

And it's worked, for the most part. Then Austin attacked me, and I've tried all my mightiest to forget about it. But I haven't forgotten.

At all. And I haven't talked to anyone either.

Tears prick the edges of my eyes, and I blink them back. No, no, no. I'm not going to cry, dang it. I will get through this without crying. That will make it seem like I've made a mistake by being Popular Camila. Which I haven't. Right?