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

Tip 3: Don't Serenade The Dork

Tip 3: Don't Serenade The Dork

"But he asked you out!" exclaimed Val.

"I know."

"And you said no."

"I know that too."

"And he was like 'but-but-but-'"

"I was there. I realised that too."

"But why?"

"That, I don't know."

I was sprawled out on my bed, staring at the stark white ceiling. It had been a week since Brett had asked me out in the cafeteria, and from then he had stalked me like a creep. He'd asked me so many times, I'd lost count. "I have thought about it over and over, but nothing comes to mind. I have to admit, I'm actually stumped."

Val put her hand to her mouth in mock horror. "The great Einsteinette, stumped? The world is definitely coming to an end."

I rolled over, and buried my face in my pillow.

"I'm so confused right now."

"Well, that's got to be a first."

"Not helping."

"Sorry, sorry." She moved closer and rubbed my back. "Look at us, two so-called geniuses stuck on a guy."

"Ew." I scrunched up my nose, even though I knew she couldn't see me. "That sounded so wrong."

She smacked me with my other pillow. "You know what I meant."

Mom called out then, "Dinner's ready."

Val and I ran downstairs.

"What's for dinner?" I asked.

"If you actually came down to help with the cooking, you'd know," my mother retorted.

I stared at her, then raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"You know what? Forget I ever said that. Never enter my kitchen."

"Thank you."

"Why shouldn't she help out?" asked Val, confused.

"Three years ago, when we had just moved here, I asked her to boil an egg, whilst I went out," said Mom. "When I came back, the sink was overflowing, the smoke alarm was going haywire and this girl was asleep. The egg was also burnt."

"How do even do that?" asked Val, staring at me. "I mean, seriously burn an egg?"

"Shut up," I muttered.

"And that's why, even though she's almost seventeen-" Here my mother shot me a glare "-she can't even boil water. And why I do all the cooking around here."

"You do it 'cause you love us, Mom."

She rolled her brown eyes, which I had inherited.

"Just get out of my kitchen. By the way, we're having spaghetti for dinner."

"Love you, Mom!" I called out as we left, blowing her a kiss.

"Oh, quiet you!" she responded, laughing. "And go get your sister."

"So Einsteinette can't boil an egg, hmm?" smirked Val.

"Nobody's perfect," I mumbled.

"But honestly speaking, how do you burn a boiled egg?" She clutched her stomach as she laughed.

"It's not funny anymore, Val. And I was only thirteen."

"It will never not be funny. Wait till I tell Oliver!"