The Summer I Became a Nerd

#15

Logan pushes the microphone on its stand toward me. I look from him to the mic, then shake my head. He nods. I shake my head more

fiercely, but he nods more. I mouth the words “I hate you,” and he grins.

“Hi,” I say into the mic, but I’m apparently too close. Logan jumps and scoots the mic away a little. “Sorry,” I whisper.

He leans in to speak. “So, Wonderful Wendy, what has been awesome about your day?”

I get close to the microphone, too, expecting him to move back, but he doesn’t. “Nothing really.”

“Come on, something had to be awesome.”

I shake my head.

He points at the mic.

“Nope, nothing.”

“That’s too bad, but then again, life is all about yin and yang, right? Things can’t always be awesome. So, let’s go with

that. What was so not awesome about your day?”

I make sure to keep my eyes on his as I speak. “Well, I’ve been feeling bad about hurting someone. I said something I really

didn’t mean, and now this person probably hates me, which sucks. A lot. This person was right, and I should have admitted it.”

A few seconds of silence goes by. We’re sitting so close our knees are not only touching but are interlaced.

“That does suck.” The way he says it is like he’s not speaking to the audience. He’s talking just to me. “What do y’all

think, listeners? Got any advice for Wonderful Wendy or want to commiserate? Give us a call.”

Logan flips a switch on the microphone, and a haunting woman’s voice begins to sing through my headphones. He moves one side of

his headphones off his ear, and I do the same.

“So?” He doesn’t sound accusatory anymore. He sounds more…hopeful.

“You were right. There have been moments between us.” I look down at our knees and notice a worn hole in his jeans. I touch the

exposed skin with the tip of my finger.

“And?”

I tap my foot, anxious about what he’ll think of this next part. “And… If you’re willing to forgive me, I’d like for there to

be more of our moments.”

“So, you and Eric? Is there still a you and Eric?”

“Nope, that’s over.” Eric has to have listened to the voice mail by now and is too busy having fun to call back. I didn’t

expect him to be very concerned about us breaking up. There are plenty of other cheerleaders to act as his arm candy, thank God.

A crease forms between Logan’s brows. Maybe it’s the heartbreaking ambiance the music is creating, but I get this feeling like

he wants to reveal something important.

“Maddie, I have to tell you…” He leans even closer to me and whispers, “I’ve…”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve… Never been lucky. With girls. With relationships. That whole thing. I guess, maybe, I overreacted the other night. I’m

sorry. It’s just, you’re you, you know?”

“You didn’t overreact. I was being a jerk.”

He frowns even harder and opens his mouth like he’s about comfort me, tell me I wasn’t being a horrible person, but I shake my

head.

It takes me a bit to get my words straight. “I like you, Logan. I like who I am when I’m around you. You’re fun and

considerate. And I trampled all over that. Like you said. I’m me and I’m trying to…fix that, but—”

He holds up his hand for me to stop. “No, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. At all.” He emphasizes those

last two words and covers my hand with his, his thumb rubbing slightly, soothingly. “Let’s just…forget all that even happened.

Okay?”

Ben’s voice buzzes over the speaker, and we both jump, “And we’re back in five, four, three…”

Logan doesn’t miss a beat. “Man, I love that song. What about you, Wonderful Wendy?”

I grin. “One of my favorites.”

Ben waves at us and makes the international hand gesture for phone with his thumb and pinky finger.

“Looks like we have a caller. Hello, awesome listener, what’s your name?” Logan says.

“Hey, Awesome Logan. This is Dan-the-man.”

Logan rolls his eyes but keeps his voice steady. “All right, Dan-the-man, what’s on your mind?”

“Well, Awesome Logan, there are always a lot of things on my mind, because I’m extremely intelligent and always contemplative, a

sort of modern-day philosopher, if you will, but at the moment, the main thing I’m thinking about is what I’d like to say to

this chick you have cohosting with you even though you’ve never had a cohost and have probably had a close friend or acquaintance

suggest that they cohost, but of course, you turned them down, which is a big, fat load of—”

“Thanks for calling in, Dan-the-man. We’re going to take a quick break before you make your statement to Wonderful Wendy since I

’m sure you’d like a little more time to think of the right way to put it. Have a quick listen to this piece about the upcoming

NU production of West Side Story, audience.” Logan cues Ben to play the segment.

“Dan, I told you not to call in because this is what always happens,” Logan says, and I realize we can still talk to a caller

while the music plays without it being broadcast. “This is a PG-rated show, and you have difficulty saying two words without one

of them having something to do with inappropriate parts of an animal’s body.”

“How could I not call in? I asked you just the other day if I could be your cohost, and you said you couldn’t have one, that it

was against the rules. I am not happy with you, Awesome Logan, not happy at all. And don’t think for a second I’m fooled by that

codename bull-pucky. I know that’s the cheerleader.”

Bull-pucky? That’s a new one. “Why does everyone keep referring to me as the cheerleader? And why won’t you let Dan cohost? I

think he’s funny.”

“See! I’m funny, Logan. Wait… I don’t need you to stick up for me, cheerleader.”

“Fine, I won’t!”

“Good, fine!” Dan ends on a squeak.

“Will you two stop fighting?” Logan tugs on my shoulder. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten so close to the mic I was almost

touching it with my lips. “She’s not my cohost, she’s a guest. Okay, Dan?”

“Whatever, dude.”

“Do you actually have something to say to her? If not, you’re not going back on-air.”

“Yeah, I have a butt-ton of things to say to her.”

Logan sighs. “Are any of those things rated PG?”

“Yes, mister almighty Awesome Logan, one of them is.”

“I’ll let you stay on then. But, just so you know, I consider ‘butt-ton’ PG-13, so none of that either, okay?” Logan raises

his eyebrows.

“I promise. No butt-tons, no donkey butts, no butts of any kind.”

Logan gives Ben a thumbs-up when the piece about the play ends.

“So, we’re still on the line with Dan-the-man who says he’d like to say something to Wonderful Wendy.” Logan closes his eyes

like he doesn’t want to see what happens next. “Take it away, Dan-the-man.”

“Thank you for that lead-in, Awesome Logan. You know, we should work together one day. I’m told I’m pretty funny. Anyway, I’d

like to say good job, Wonderful Wendy. It takes a lot to be honest and admit you are wrong. I hope this person realizes that and

accepts your apology.”

Logan looks at me, mouth hanging open, and I’m sure my expression mirrors his.

I lean in. “Um, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Peace out, bitches!”

Logan just shakes his head. “Thanks for that, Dan-the-man. Listeners, do you agree with what he said? Give us a call and let’s

discuss. Now back to the music.”

He turns the mic off again. “So, what are you doing this Saturday?”

I know I must look like a goof, but I can’t hold back my huge smile. “I don’t have any plans.”

“Do you want to hang out?”

“Like a date?”

He pushes his glasses up on his nose with the knuckle of his forefinger. The little gesture is so…him. I wish he’d wear glasses

all the time. Honestly, I just want to pull him under the desk and kiss him silly. What would happen to those glasses if I just

laid one on him right now? Would it be uncomfortable? Would they get fogged up? Would he whip them off Clark Kent style, revealing

the hero behind the disguise?

“Yeah, sure. Maybe I can pick you up and we can get lunch?” He shrugs and pulls at the edging of the table which is close to

falling off completely.

“Sounds good. That way, you can meet my parents.”

His hand jerks and rips off a long chunk of flimsy wood. He tosses it into a corner of the room and turns back to me. “Um, okay.

That’ll be…awesome.”

I laugh. “Don’t worry, my parents are cool. I mean, my dad will probably want to show off all his guns, so that might be fun for

you. He has them hanging up all over the house so there’s always one in reach.”

“Oh…really?”

“Yeah, plus, he has all these old stories he likes to tell. About his days with the Mob. You should hear all the different ways

he hid the bodies. He’s so creative.” I look off wistfully but watch him out of the corner of my eye.

His eyes widen for a moment, and then it must dawn on him I’m kidding because he smiles. “I suppose he’s where you got your

fashion sense from. A hoodie and sunglasses in the middle of summer? Been taking lessons from the old man, huh?”

“Exactly.” I nod. We laugh a little, possibly a lot, and then I remember what I wanted to ask him before. “What did you mean

earlier with ‘you’re you’?”

“That? Uh, I just meant you’re great, ya know? And that I… Well…” He’s tripping over his words. And it’s so cute, but I’d

really like him to finish his thought.

But of course, that’s when we come back from the music break, and there’s another caller.

“What’s your name, caller?” Logan asks.

“Hi, A.L., it’s Capri.” Her voice is clearer coming through the headphones than it has been when I listened to the show at home

over the radio. There’s something about it that strikes me as familiar.

Logan looks up at the ceiling like he’s summoning patience. “Thanks for calling in again, Capri. So, what’s your stance on

Wonderful Wendy’s situation?”

“If you ask me, I don’t see why you guys are, like, proud of this girl. The fact that she’s trying to be all ‘poor me’ is

really lame. She shouldn’t have screwed up in the first place.”

Geez Louise, is this girl serious?

I lean in to speak before Logan does. “Hi, Capri. You’re right. I shouldn’t have done this thing in the first place, but I’m

trying to make up for it.”

“How so? You haven’t even said you’re sorry. You don’t even know if this person will hear it if you do, and if they do hear

it, how will they know it’s you? You haven’t given your real name? What is your real name, anyway?”

Man, this girl’s voice sounds so familiar, but I just can’t place it.

I open my mouth to speak, but Logan beats me to it. “She has said she’s sorry, it just wasn’t broadcast. And, the apology was

accepted.” He nods his head like he wants to say, “So there.”

“I knew it!” Capri shrieks, and I almost throw off my headphones. “You’re the one she’s talking about, aren’t you, A.L.? Don

’t listen to her, she’s not good enough for you. She broke your heart once, she’ll do it again. You need someone who will treat

you right. Who will—”

“Well, thanks for calling in again, Capri. You’re definitely one of our most faithful listeners, but we have to get back to the

music now.” Logan flicks the microphone’s switch and makes a hurry-up gesture at Ben who is flipping through CDs at super-speed.

“Music, Ben… Play the music!”

Finally, a piano begins, its melody followed by a rusty, bluesy voice.

Logan’s ears take on a pink tinge. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what her deal is.”

“I know what her deal is—I’ve said it before. She has a thing for you.”

“No, she doesn’t. I’ve never met that girl in my life. I—”

“Doesn’t matter.” I give his knee a nudge. “I mean, who can blame her? You’re Awesome Logan.”

He smiles, and his eyes literally sparkle as he looks at me. Or maybe it’s just the reflection of the dim light off his glasses.

Either way, it makes my toes go numb, probably because all the blood has left them and gone to my cheeks.

What were we talking about again? “I like this song.”

“Yeah, it’s good.” He stares at the mic and takes a deep breath. “So, what do you—”

Ben interrupts his question when his voice comes through the headphones. “I’m missing a CD, dude. You got it in there?”

Logan hops up. “Which one?”

As he looks for the CD, I fiddle with the spiral cord of the microphone. I can’t believe he’s not mad at me. Not only does he

want to hang out, he’s agreed to meet my parents, which is just crazy pants.

I’m daydreaming of what he’ll think of them when he pops my hand, trying to stop me from tangling up the cord more than it

already is. He’s still flipping through CDs, so I give his shoulder a good punch, and he fakes a huge amount of pain, clutching

his shoulder and almost falling out of his chair. When he finally finds the missing CD, he runs to the swinging door and tosses it

to Ben.

He makes it back to his seat just in time to go on-air. “Here’s another very important question for you, listeners. What awesome

activity should Wonderful Wendy and I do on our date? Natchitoches isn’t known for its social entertainment, so is there anything

you can suggest? Give us a call, and we’ll debate the possibilities.”

My eyes go wide at the practically public announcement we’re “a thing.” He raises his brows at me in a question, like “Did I

just royally screw up?”

Into the mic, I say, “Yeah, the most popular place to be in town is Wal-Mart, and that’s not exactly the most romantic

destination.”

Throughout the rest of the show, people commend me for owning up to my mistake and apologizing. Callers make suggestions for our

date, the most promising being the Alligator Park.

The show ends, and Logan walks me to my car, leaving Ben to lock up the studio. It’s nice outside tonight, only a little muggy.

“So, I’ll see you Saturday? Around lunchtime?” I lock my hands behind my back as I lean against my car. The urge to put a hand

on his arm or run my fingers through his messy brown hair is overwhelming, but I don’t want to seem needy or possessive.

He shoves his own hands in his pockets, and I wonder if he wants to keep them under control for the same reason I do. “Saturday

it is. Prepare yourself for the best date of your life.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.”

He moves toward me, and I freeze. He’s going to do it, I think. Then he grabs the handle of my car door.

I go to scoot out of the way, but he lays his other hand flat against the window on my side. There’s no way I can move now that

he’s trapped me between him and the car.

He closes the distance between us to just a few inches. His gaze flicks from my eyes to my lips. My fingers disobey me and do what

they wanted to do back at The Phoenix. I hook one into each of his jeans pockets, which brings him a tad bit closer.

He lets out a shuddering breath and moves to whisper in my ear, “Thanks for coming tonight, Mad.” He presses his lips against my

cheek. It’s not a quick peck, but a long, soft kiss.

I seal this perfect moment away in my memory as one of those few seconds that I was blissfully happy. He opens my car door for me

and tells me to be careful.

On the way home, I realize he could take me Dumpster diving and I’d still consider it the best date ever.