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

Tip 11: Don't Argue with the Dork's Crush

Tip 11: Don't Argue with the Dork's Crush

"OMG Greg's back?" squealed Val, as we walked down the halls on our way to lunch the next day. My best friend had had a crush on my big brother for the longest time. It would have been cute if it wasn't my brother's abs she kept going on about. It was rather disturbing, honestly speaking.

"Yes, he is," I sighed. I half regretted telling her. Now she'd spend the next hour raving about how incredibly cute, sacrificial and amazingly talented Taylor was.

Oliver joined us as we sat at our table, and Val immediately informed him of the 'good-no amazing!' news.

"Oh that's great!" smiled Oliver, taking a forkful of his Caesar salad. "How did he say it went?"

"He said it was great, by God's grace. He even got you guys all gifts," I said, pulling out two bracelets, and handing them over to their respective owners.

"O. M. G! He remembered me! This is a sign," squealed Val. Oliver and I sighed in exasperation at the same time.

"Your crush borders on disturbing," I said, stealing some of Oliver's ice cream. "And not just because it's my brother you're talking about."

"Erm...speaking of crushes, Kay," murmured Oliver.

"Hey, Kayla," said a baritone voice I had heard a dozen times in my fantasies.

"H-H-H-Hey Eric!" I stammered. "What's up?"

The guy who had haunted an unnerving number of my dreams smiled at me. A heart-warming smile that had the power to turn my insides to mush.

"Hey. Kayla, right?" he said, and shot me another smile. At this rate, the janitor would be up a Kayla-sized puddle by the time lunch was over.

"Yeah. What are you doing here?" I surprised myself by how cool I sounded.

"I wanted to have a word with you-alone. Could I steal you away from your friends for a little while?" he asked. Val smiled manically and said, "Yes!" whilst shooting me two big thumbs up behind Eric's back.

"Okay, sure," I said, and he escorted me out of the cafeteria. A few people shot us odd glances, but the whole place didn't suddenly freeze up. Eric wasn't nearly as popular as Brett, even though they were both on the football team.

"Okay, I need your help," he finally said, as we stepped out, and stood next to someone's locker.

"My help?" I asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "What for?" I had to hand it to myself, I was holding it together pretty well. Maybe the janitor wouldn't have that much work to do after all.

"I am on the verge of flunking out of Calculus. I heard that you're really smart. You brought some dude's grade up from a D to an A or something like that."

"The dude's name was Tim, and I only helped him. He did most of the work on his own."

"I'm sure you could help me too. Please Kayla, I'm desperate." He ran a callused palm through his shaggy black locks, and pleaded with me with the pleading green eyes. It was nearly impossible to say no to him

"I'm already taking someone for classes. I don't think I can handle someone else. But Oliver and Val are great tutors; I'm sure either of them wouldn't mind taking you on as a tutee."

"No, no, no. I want you to be my tutor. You. Not them." I was flattered, but this was starting to border on creepy.

"You heard what she said, Blankson. She doesn't want to tutor you. Leave her alone."