Geek Charming (32 page)

“So in the real one I’m not this evil person who’s a spoiled brat?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard there’s a moment when you’re yelling at a guy with a cane in a crosswalk that I can’t imagine you’d want in there, but other than that, it sounds like Josh made you out to be . . . human. Just like the rest of us.” She looked down at the floor. “Even the ones who go out with the guy who their best friend has a crush on because they’re going through a desperate-for-attention phase because their dad just told the family that he’s moving out,” she said softly.

I had forgotten that Amy had been going to therapy ever since seventh grade and always talked like that. “Now that I think about it, holding a grudge for four years over a guy like that seems really dumb,” I said. “I mean, if he were someone super hot and cool
maybe
, but seeing that it was Michael Rosenberg—”

“You know, I saw him at the movies recently and he’s so
not
as cute as he was back then,” she said.

“Really?”

She nodded.

I guess it was a good thing I hadn’t spent much time trying to track him down as a potential Fall Fling date. We both went back to fixing our hair and it felt like old times. So much so that I had almost forgotten that she was going to Fall Fling with my ex-boyfriend. Once I remembered, I could feel myself revving up inside to have a fit, but it was like those times when my car wouldn’t start: the gears of the engine were turning and turning, but then . . . nothing. Just some sputtering. It was as if all my drama-queen tendencies had dried up. Especially when I remembered that even though Asher had been my boyfriend, he really hadn’t been my boyfriend for about a year.

“I heard you’re going to Fall Fling with Asher,” I finally said.

I saw her look at me to see whether I was about to freak out.

“That’s cool,” I continued. “He’s a good guy. Most of the time, that is. Not when he’s dumping people right before school dances with no warning or explanation, but he’s got his moments of niceness.”

She shrugged. “He was the only one who asked me and I figured it would be nice to go to one of those things before I graduated.”

“Yeah, I never did understand why you’re never there,” I replied. I had figured that it was because she was dating twenty-five-year-old talent agents and that would look really creepy.

“Because no one ever asks me.”

“Really?” I asked as I took out my mascara. I don’t know why I was bothering—I had been crying so much over the last few days my eyes were so puffy you couldn’t even see them.

She nodded and then reached in her bag for a pack of gum. “Do you want a piece?” she asked, holding it out.

“Thanks,” I said. I had also forgotten that when Amy wasn’t stealing people’s boyfriends, she was very generous.

“You should be going with Josh, then,” I joked as I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. “He’s never been to one, either.”

She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, too. “That’s who I wanted to go with, but he didn’t ask.”

I glanced over at her to see if she was joking, but the look on her face was dead serious.

“There was a point where he was coming to Mani’s every day after school a few weeks ago and I thought he might, but he didn’t.”

Wait a minute—that week when Josh was going to see his crush every day but couldn’t talk to her . . .

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Oh. My. God. It was
Amy
that Josh had had a crush on all this time! No wonder he wouldn’t tell me who it was. I couldn’t believe that out of everyone at Castle Heights, it was her that Josh was crushing on. Granted, maybe the last few minutes had made it so that she was no longer my archenemy, but back when he and I were friends, he didn’t know that. I could only wonder what
else
I’d find out he had done behind my back.

“Anyway, I’m not going with Asher anymore,” she said, cleaning out her purse. I had forgotten what a neat freak she was.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“He texted me the other night and said that he had just heard that Rebecca Jenkins and Mark Wolcott had broken up, and because he had been wanting to go out with her since freshman year, he wanted to jump on it.”

“I can’t believe that!” I said. “What a jerk.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. I wasn’t that into going with him anyway. Since I had already gotten a dress, I called Josh last night to see if he wanted to go. But he said that even though you weren’t talking to him at the moment, you guys had made plans to hang out that night and he didn’t feel comfortable breaking them until he checked with you. Except that you wouldn’t return any of his calls or e-mails.”

I couldn’t believe it—my best friend had a crush on my ex-best friend, and because he was such a good friend, he would’ve given up the opportunity to go to Fall Fling with his dream girl and stay home with me watching old movies because I didn’t have a date.

Josh wasn’t the geek here—
I
was.

“He’s a really good guy,” Amy said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He really is.”

Too bad I had screwed everything up.

 

As far as I was concerned, just because I wasn’t going to Fall Fling didn’t mean I couldn’t wear one of the three dresses I’d already bought, even if the only place I was going that night was Pinkberry. Maybe I looked ridiculous ordering a quart of frozen yogurt with raspberries and coconut while wearing a black minidress with fake leopard-fur cuffs and black patent-leather stiletto heels, especially since it was pouring rain, but I liked to think of myself as an example for all the other girls who didn’t have dates that night. Even if we didn’t have dates, or weren’t invited out, that didn’t mean we needed to stay home all night in yoga pants and stained sweatshirts feeling sorry for ourselves.

That being said, I had to admit I
was
feeling sorry for myself. Not because of Fall Fling, but because I had called and texted Josh a bunch of times and now
he
was the one who wouldn’t return my messages. Given how I had acted, I couldn’t say I blamed him, but, still, I really missed him. Eating Everything-but-the-Kitchen-Sink Specials by myself was getting boring, and without Josh’s tenor voice, “Song Sung Blue” didn’t sound as good with just my soprano one. But most importantly I just missed talking to him. Even if he always had to compare everything to a movie, our conversations had always left me with something to think about. As I turned on Sunset Boulevard to go home, I had resigned myself to the fact that I was destined to finish off my senior year friendless when Neil Diamond’s “Cherry, Cherry” came on the radio. At first, hearing it just made me more sad, remembering that night when Josh drove me home from the UCLA party, but as I started singing—softly at first, but soon louder and louder (it really
is
my favorite Neil song)—it filled me with courage. At the next light I pulled an illegal U-ey and drove toward Hollywood. The Universe really must have supported me in what I was about to do because I had all green lights the entire way, and before I knew it I was in front of Josh’s house. Unfortunately the only parking space I could find was two blocks away, so by the time I made it to the house, I looked like a drowned rat. Or, rather, a drowned leopard.

“Whoops,” I said, tripping as I made my way up the walkway. I probably could have left the stilettos out of the equation and still made my point about not needing a date to dress up, but it was too late for that. Plus, I never understood why someone would wear something as boring as flats or flip-flops when they could make their legs look even longer with heels.

“Dylan! Come in, come in,” said Josh’s mom after she answered the door. “You must be freezing to death!”

“No,” I said through my chattering teeth. “I’m okay.” I stepped inside and tried not to drip too much on the rug. “Is Josh here?”

“Sure. Josh!” she yelled. “Dylan’s here!” She turned back to me. “He didn’t tell me you were coming by. If I had known I would’ve saved you some of the stuffed eggplant I made from my Introduction to Turkish Cooking class.”

“He’s not really expecting me—”

From the surprised look on his face when he walked into the living room, that was definitely the case.

“What are you doing here?” He took in my outfit. “And what are you
wearing
?”

“Sorry to just show up like this, but you didn’t respond to any of my voice mails or texts, so I figured this was the only way to talk to you . . . ”

“Mrs. Spivakovsky’s dog got ahold of my phone on Wednesday when I was over there and dropped it in his water bowl, so I’ve been phoneless,” he replied.

“Oh.”

He sniffed. “What’s that weird smell?” He turned toward his mother. “Mom, do you think once in a while you could make nonethnic food?”

I held up my arm and sniffed. “I think it’s my wet fake fur. So do you think I can talk to you for a second?”

“Sure. Come on back to my room.”

As I started to follow him, Sandy did as well.

“Um, Mom?” Josh asked when we got to his bedroom.

She stopped and turned toward her own bedroom. “I’m just going to my room to finish putting away my laundry.”

“The laundry’s still in the dryer,” Josh replied.

“Oh. You’re right.” She took my hands in hers. “Okay, I’m not going to eavesdrop, but I just want to say that I’m really glad you’re here, Dylan, and I just know you kids can work out your problems. I’ve been setting that as my intention every time I’ve meditated this week.”

“Thanks,” I said as I walked into Josh’s room while she continued to stand at the door.

“Mom?” Josh said again.

“Okay, okay,” she said as she finally walked away.

The two of us stood in the middle of the room while I dripped on the rug some more.

Sandy poked her head in. “Dylan, honey, I thought you might be more comfortable in these,” she said, holding out a pair of yoga pants and a UCLA sweatshirt.

“Thanks. That would be great,” I said, taking them from her.

I went into the bathroom and changed. Okay, so maybe I
was
spending Fall Fling in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, but seeing how the last few weeks had gone, I shouldn’t have been too surprised that things weren’t working out the way I had planned.

When I came back out, Josh was fiddling with something on his computer, but as I got closer he minimized it before I could see what it was. It felt like more than a week since we’d seen each other. For a second we just stared at each other and said nothing. Actually, we stared at anything
but
each other. I pointed at his desk. “You got a new inhaler,” I said.

He nodded. “Yeah, but I haven’t had to use it yet,” he replied.

“That’s great,” I said, before we went back to saying nothing. “So I ran into Amy Loubalu the other day when I was hiding out in the bathroom during lunch.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, turning red as he got up from the computer and walked over to his
Star Wars
action figures.

“Yeah.”

More silence.

“She told me about the other version of the documentary,” I added.

“She did?” he asked, fiddling with Luke’s light-wand thingie.

“Yeah,” I said.

Even more silence.

“She also told me that she called and asked you to Fall Fling but you said that you had to check with me first because we had had plans.”

He fiddled with Luke some more. “Well, we did,” he replied.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, so here’s the deal: I owe you a huge apology, Josh. I said some really horrible things, and to be honest, I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me, but I hope you will because you’re not a geek—you’re . . . my best friend. And I’d be really, really bummed if you weren’t in my life anymore. I mean, who else am I going to find to sing Neil Diamond songs with other than my dad? And who’s going to give me a play-by-play analysis of every scene of a movie? And who else am I going to meet who knows the contents of WebMD by heart? And who else am I going to call to say ‘I’m hungry’ or ‘I’m cold’ and get a thoughtful response like you always give me? And who’s going to help me write that ‘Best Black-and-White Cookies in L.A.’ blog we talked about a few weeks ago? You might be a total geek sometimes, but like a total geek in the best sense of the word, you know? That supernice, supersweet, supersensitive part of geekdom. And, by the way?
I’m
a total geek, too, sometimes! Like remember when there was that Disney double feature at the New Beverly—the one with
Lady and the Tramp
and
101 Dalmatians—
and I really wanted to go but you said that even you wouldn’t be caught dead watching that stuff on the big screen?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he replied.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this because I was embarrassed, but I went.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “Yeah. And I loved it.”

“Wow. Alone at a Disney double feature. That really
is
geeky,” he said.

“So what I’m saying is I’m beyond sorry,” I announced.

“Okay,” he said.

“And if there’s—wait, that’s it? You’re accepting my apology?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

I went over and picked up a Harry Potter action figure on a shelf. “Boy. You’re easy. See—that’s another thing I love about you, Josh: how uncomplicated you are.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t accept your apology?” he asked as he walked over and put the figure back in its right spot after I set it back down.

“No. Not at all. I’m just saying that someone who wasn’t, you know, as
mature
as you are would make the person suck up to them for a while longer. And that’s another thing I love about you—the way that you don’t believe in wasting time—”

“You can stop sucking up to me now.”

“Okay. Great. Thanks. So we’re friends again?”

He nodded. “You know, it was really hard when you just shut me out, and just wouldn’t respond to my e-mails and calls. But . . . yeah. We’re friends again.”