How To Date A Christian Dork: A Helpful Handbook For The Datingly Impaired.

Tip 2: Don't Ask The Dork Out In Public

Tip 2| Don't Ask The Dork Out In Public

"I can't believe he didn't just apologize! I mean, I saw his foot. It was so embarrassing!"

It was Monday, two days after the mall fiasco, and I still hadn't gotten over Brett's apology-or lack thereof. I was seated in Val's car, and we were headed for school.

"Are you done yet?" Val asked.

"No. I will not be 'done' until I get an apology."

"You know you can just forgive him without an apology, right?"

"I've forgiven him, I just..."

"If you really had let it go, you wouldn't be holding on so tightly."

I groaned. As much as I hated to admit it, my best friend was right.

"But it's so hard!"

"Forgiveness always is. But we've been forgiven our sins by God, we should forgive others too."

Sighing, I said, "When did my best friend get so wise?"

"I've always been wise. You've just never paid attention before. I mean, look at the amazing outfit you're wearing! Courtesy of moi, of course."

Val had driven over earlier than usual, ostensibly to help me get ready for school. She had hijacked all my comfort clothes, and had forced me to allow her to 'work her magic.' I currently sported a pair of black jeans, an oversized fluffy sweater and ankle boots. I hated it.

"The jeans are so itchy," I complained, as we drew closer to the school.

"Deal with it. You look cute."

"I don't want to look 'cute.' I want to be comfy."

She ignored as she parked the car.

"I want my sweatpants back. My babies miss me."

"They'll live. Now get out of my car."

I scowled at her, and slowly shifted to the right.

"I would like to get to class sometime this year."

I moved even slower. She rolled her eyes and pulled me out.

"Kayla, you look great. What are you so worried about?"

"I look like a Barbie doll."

"A cute Barbie doll," she pointed out.

I raised an eyebrow.

"At least I didn't use makeup," she said.

"No. No makeup. Ever."

"Then get into the building."

I glared her.

"Come on Kayla, we both know you've never missed a day of school. You're certainly not about to now."

I scowled. "I hate it when you're right."

"Whatever. Hurry up, Oliver's probably wondering here we are right now."

Emerson High, population about nine hundred, was an exclusive school for the best of the best. Their school fees could probably feed a third world country, and I had gotten my scholarship by the skin of my teeth. Val and I entered.

"Kayla? Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that really you?" asked a voice behind me.

"It's really her!" squealed Val, excited to show off her new project.

"You look different," said my other best friend. He reached out to touch my straightened hair. "I'm not sure I'm not dreaming."

"I wish you were," I muttered.