How to date a Nerd

Chapter 11

I'm a piece of shit.

I'm so glad I closed my window last night because I probably made some very embarrassing noises in my sleep. I blame her jeans being stuffed in my face while I slept. Yes, I'm that big of a fool to sleep with them like a teddy bear.

Stretching out on the bed, I pick up my phone, which is blinking at me with about twenty messages.

The first few are from Normani, asking me if I hooked up with Shawn  yesterday since she couldn't get a hold of me. Then—speak of the devil—there's about ten from Shawn, who's carrying on a conversation with himself apparently, because I didn't text back.

The last message scrolls up, which I assume is Shawn again, but my stomach lurches when I see Lauren's name.

Thanks.

Oh boy. I can't tell if I'm happy or sad or angry or frustrated or relieved or guilty. I'm torn so many places I can't put my head on straight.

What have I done? It's okay for me to have nerdy fantasies. But she can't latch onto me. I'm no good for her.

I set my phone back on the nightstand without replying and chuck Lauren's jeans across the room pissed at myself for letting my guard down. It's not like my poor attempt at deleting that message from her dad was at all successful. I should've let it go.

But thinking of his face as she heard her dad's voice made me happy she wasn't alone, even if she had to be with a fake bitch like me.

Getting dressed poses a dilemma. For some bizarre reason, I feel like more of a dirty whore than usual as I tug on tight jeans and corseted top. Very cute and sexy, and really pushing the dress code boundaries with the bursting cleavage.

And so not me today. But it has to be me today.

I shrug on my leather jacket, whipping my hair out so it flows down my back. Sighing, I grab my purse and Chemistry book and zip out the door.

Walking to school in heels sucks butt. Dinah's been giving me rides, but she's late most of the time, and I really can't miss any more classes.

The hallway's buzzing by the time I get to school and as usual it's almost impossible to fit in the student union. As I slide between two tall guys I see some people over by the vending machines, doing replays of the last football game. Josh plows into Tyler's side while the girls squeal. I roll my eyes, which land on the "loners" chipping at their black nail polish. That stuff is so hard to get off. Especially the glitter kind. I'd ask them what their secret is, but again, they're out of my social league.

A few people play bad guitar for a "pretending to be interested" crowd. And Normani sits in the midst of four guys, flirting away as she lightly touches her cleavage, strokes their arms, and giggles at their probably less than funny, inappropriate comments.

I make my way over, really trying not to pout and knowing if I don't walk over there people will wonder what's wrong with me. Three of the four guys surrounding Normani gravitate in my direction as I walk up.

Geek Camila, you have to leave now.

"Lookin' hot," Jesse says, eyes locked on my boobs. Makes me wonder if he's talking to me or them. Keaton throws an arm over my shoulders and slaps a kiss on my cheek.

Yup, life seems to have gone on just fine even though I felt like I was in another world yesterday. I smile at the attention I'm getting by simply walking in the door. "Hi, Camila!" and "Sup, girl?" and, just like Jesse, "Lookin' hot!" phrases are sent my way.

I'm ready to pull out from under Keaton's arm, but I remember Popular Camila would stay there. Obviously, the breakup between me and Austin has made its official rounds, and since I threw myself at Shawn so quickly, I'm sure the word "loose" has my picture next to it in the social dictionary. If it didn't already.