The Summer I Became a Nerd

#6

With my jacket on, the hood of it pulled up and over my cap, and my shades firmly in place, I pull into the back parking lot of

The Phoenix next to the only other vehicle, Logan’s. I dial his number.

“Hey, Maddie,” he answers, his smooth voice causing a shiver to float across the back of my neck.

“How did you know it was me?” I look around. Is he hiding in the bushes or something?

“I programmed your number into my phone.”

Great. What if someone goes through his contacts and finds me? “Right. Anyway, I have your comic.”

“I can’t come get it now because I’m at the shop, but maybe later we—”

“I’m parked out back,” I say quickly before he can tempt me with what we can maybe do later.

“Well, come on in.”

“Could you just come out here?”

There’s a long silence before he says, “Fine,” and hangs up.

Double great. Now he’s mad at me. And why should I care? It’s not like we could ever actually be friends. My kind and his kind

just don’t mix.

The beat-up metal door in front of me slams open, banging against a cinder block probably used to prop it open, and out comes

Logan. He stalks to my passenger-side door, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets. The window is open, so he just shoves a hand

through it and makes a give-it-here motion with his fingers. As I open my backpack to get the book, I lean over, trying to see his

face.

“Sorry I made you come out here. You probably need to watch the store, right?”

“Dan’s keeping an eye on things,” he says in a flat tone.

“What a good friend.”

I pet the #400’s cover one last time. Am I stalling? I don’t know, but for whatever reason, I don’t want him to be mad at me.

Thinking it’s the best way to get us back into friendly territory, I hand it to him. He snatches it away without so much as a

thank you, turns to go back inside, then stops. He leans over and sticks his head through the window, a scowl on his face.

I prepare myself for whatever rant he’s about to lay on me, but when he sees me, his face goes blank. His eyes move from my

glasses to my hat to my hoodie and back to my face. I’m used to these kinds of blatant appraisals. I’m a cheerleader, for God’s

sakes. But Logan’s stare makes me feel naked. Heat rises in my cheeks. Then he ruins it by laughing long and hard.

“What?” I ask.

“Are you serious?” He wipes away a tear from the corner of his eye. “In the name of all that is good and holy, why are you

dressed like that? It’s almost a hundred degrees out here.”

“I…I get cold.”

“You get cold?” he asks, then lets out a sound that can only be interpreted as a scoff.

I hate scoffs.

“Yeah, I get cold.”

He shakes his head as he laughs some more. The heat in my cheeks has turned to a scalding burn. This is what I get for allowing

someone to peek at that side of me. He can just laugh his ass back into that store and out of my perfectly fine life.

I throw the car into reverse. “Enjoy your comic.”

“Wait!” he yells, gripping the door handle.

I stop just for a second thinking his shirt or something is caught, but he takes the chance to fling open the door and sit in the

passenger seat.

He fastens the seat belt, closes the door, and slaps the top of the car through the open window. “Okay, I’m ready. Where are we

going?”

I can’t think of a response due to being completely and utterly flabbergasted at his audacity.

“I’m hungry. You hungry? I’ll buy.”

I glare at him over the top of my sunglasses and purse my lips.

He sighs. “I’m sorry I laughed at you, but please don’t go. You want to come inside for a second? Get some water? Cool off?”

“I can’t. I have to…” I trail off as I stare at the metal door hanging open. God, what I wouldn’t give to go in.

“Come on, just for a minute. You’ll kick yourself later if you don’t, and you know it. I promise no one will see you. Dan will

stay up front for as long as I’m in the back.”

“I’m not worried about anyone seeing me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Of course not. You’re just trying to start a new fashion trend. I’m sure the creepy-creeper style will

take off.”

I remove my shades and look between him and the open door. I can see stacks and stacks of those white, cardboard boxes lined up

against the wall in there. When will I ever get this chance again?

It’s not like I really have anything to do. I chew on my bottom lip a little before giving in. “Just for a minute.”

Before I’m even out of my car, he comes around to meet me with that annoying smile plastered across his face.

I glare at him. “Will you stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“Smiling.”

“Okay.” But he just keeps on smiling and nudges my shoulder with his. How can I stay mad at that? Heaving a sigh, I trudge

toward The Phoenix.

The second I cross the threshold, the smell of aged paper hits me, and I breathe deep. I pause and take it all in as Logan closes

and locks the door behind us. I feel like I’ve been given an all-access pass to Disney World. Not only are there tons of boxes,

but there’s a row of big cardboard cutouts in the corner lined up like they’re waiting to buy movie tickets. The walls are

covered with gorgeous posters done by some of the best artists ever. There’s George Perez’s cover of DC’s Infinity Crisis #7

with Superman cradling Supergirl’s torn and battered body. And by the door that leads to the front of the store, is a really long

poster of the X-Men team done by Jim Lee. I know it’s Jim Lee because the way he does hair and brow furrows is unmistakable.

“Any particular title you want to read?” Logan asks.

“Where’s your boss? He wouldn’t like me being back here, I bet.”

“Actually, I’m kind of my own boss. My parents own The Phoenix. All you see before you will one day be mine.” He spreads his

arms wide.

Talk about a dream job! I’d never leave. They wouldn’t even have to pay me. “That is so awesome.” I let my fingers slide over

one of the boxes. I can almost hear the thousands of voices inside begging to tell me their stories.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“What do you mean ‘I guess’? You get to come here every day.”

“Well, the shop isn’t doing so well lately.” He leans one shoulder against the wall.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize.” Now that I think back over the many times I’ve passed by the store, I can’t remember ever

seeing more than one or two cars out front at one time. Rather than think about what that meant to the store, I was more concerned

about whether the people driving those cars would notice me ogling the displays in the windows.

“Don’t worry about it. Things will pick up soon. So let’s see. You like The Super Ones so you’d probably like The Midnight

Judge.”

“I’ve already read that series.” I wait for his inevitable response of disbelief, but it never comes.

“Great! I mean, the earlier issues were kind of cliché, but when that new writer took over, wow. Just wow. He took it in a whole

new direction.” He starts shifting boxes, reading the labels as he goes.

“I know, right? Issue #249 almost made my brain explode when he killed that cop on accident, then totally lost it.”

He stops in the middle of picking up another box, turns to me, and there’s this moment where I feel like I’m being seen for the

first time. I can’t quite interpret the look on his face. It’s kind of like before when his stare made me feel almost naked,

except this time his head tilts to the side and the corner of his mouth turns up just a tiny bit. It’s like he just caught a

glimpse of something fascinating, but he’s not sure what it is.

“I thought the same thing.” He takes a step toward to me. “That whole story line was revolutionary, in my opinion.”

I smile, and he smiles more. The question I’ve asked myself at least a million times since I first saw Logan pops into my head:

What is it about this guy? He’s not “movie star” hot. He wears one of those old calculator watches and has a scattering of

freckles, for goodness sake. Then, he checks the time on that silly watch, and my stomach goes all wibbley-wobbley. I have to bite

my lip to suppress a giggle when I picture him tapping away on that tiny calculator, working out complicated equations. He would

have a crease between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the numbers. I would smooth it away with a kiss, and he’d look up at me

and…

I put a chokehold on my thoughts before they get any further. No fantasizing about kissing adorkable nerd boys for me, no matter

how kissable they look. Especially right now.

Suddenly, I realize we’ve been standing there smiling at each other for way too long. “Oh, and when his best friend is taken and

brainwashed into becoming a super assassin and Judge has to kill him, too, only to find out about the brainwashing thing later.”

He nods at my rambling and takes a few more steps closer. I step back. Sort of.

“It was so sad when he found out he could have reversed the effects of the brainwashing and saved him,” he says in a near

whisper. He leans forward and reaches around me to tap the box I’m propped against. “I think that run of issues is in this box.

”

We’re so close now I can feel the leftover heat from the sun as it leaves his clothes and skin. He’s wearing a worn gray T-shirt

that’s kind of tight on his shoulders. He’s not buff like Eric, but he’s not skin and bones, either.

“Neat.” I could smack myself in the forehead for such a lame response. But it’s like my brain has given up trying to supply me

with intelligent words and has switched to “grin like a fool” mode.

“We could, uh—”

He stops midsentence, glances down at me, and swallows hard. When his lips part, I get the same light-headed feeling I do when I

complete a triple back handspring. His fingertips whisper across my forearm, and my eyes close. The low hum of cars passing by

outside seems to calm my rapid heartbeat. My hand reaches for him without my permission, no matter how wrong I know hooking my

finger into his jeans pocket will be. Logan leans closer, like he knows what I’m about to do, and I’m pretty sure I’ll never be

able to breathe again when I open my eyes and see how he’s looking at me.

And wouldn’t you know it, that’s the moment Dan realizes he has no idea how to run a cash register.

“Dude!” he yells from the front of the store. “How do I get this S-O-B to open again?”

Logan clears his throat and steps back. “I’ll be right back.”

When he leaves, I fan my face, then lay both palms on my warm cheeks. Well, that didn’t take long. I haven’t even been here a

full five minutes, and I almost mauled him.

What’s wrong with me? One second, I’m concerned about whether or not someone will see my name in his phone contacts, and the

next, I want to strangle Dan for interrupting what could have been the hottest, nerd-boy kiss of my life. I have a boyfriend. A

boyfriend who wouldn’t like me kissing another guy. Probably.

Logan’s voice drifts through the door from the front counter. “What did you do to it?”

“I didn’t do anything. It hates me, that’s all,” Dan says, and then it sounds like he slams his fist on the buttons. The

register makes a lot of dinging sounds, and then there’s a strange noise like whurrrrr, tick, tick.

I might be here for a while.

…

I end up on the floor surrounded by comic books, having opened the nearest box and rifled through it. I could seriously live here.

All I would need is some water and maybe some of that dehydrated astronaut food.

I suddenly get the feeling I’m being watched and look up. Logan is leaning against the frame of the open door.

“Looks like you’re having fun.”

“Is this okay? I promise I’ll put them back in order.”

He laughs. “It’s fine.” He reaches up and turns a little white knob on a panel by the door. Music starts playing from an

ancient speaker in the corner. The sound quality is kind of crackly, but I like it. The whole atmosphere seems to meld together

into a piece of my own personal heaven. Vintage comics, music that hasn’t been autotuned to hell and back, and another person who

likes all the same things to share it with? It doesn’t get better than this.

I realize the music isn’t coming from a CD but from a radio station when the deejay announces the next song.

“Keep listening, all you wonderful people stuck here for the summer. You’re lucky I’m one of you.” A kind of reggae song

starts.

“Is that the college station?” I ask.

He plops down on the other side of my increasing wall of books. “Yeah. You listen to it?”

“Not really. You were listening to it last night in the car.”

“Oh, right. I have my own show this summer so I’m trying to make sure I don’t copy any of the other personalities.” He shrugs

like it’s no big deal, but I can tell he’s proud of the fact.

“Wow, cool. Did you have to apply to NU for that?” I pull out another comic as casually as possible, but I really want to bury

my face in it.

“Kind of. I wanted to get started as soon as possible in the business so I went to the professor who’s in charge of the station

and asked if I could help out over the summer. He gave me my own show. Figured I might be able to drum up interest from the high

school kids. I doubt that will actually happen, but I didn’t want to tell him that.”

“Why don’t you think that’ll work?”

He shakes his head. “People don’t listen to the radio anymore. It’s all digital downloads, iTunes, and YouTube. Besides, it’s

not like I have a loyal fan-base or anything.”

“I’m sure it’ll be awesome. When’s your show on? I’ll listen—it’s the least I can do.”

“It’s a nightly show from seven to nine.”

“That’s a good time spot, right?”

“Yeah, one of the best, actually. I have no idea why he let me have it.”

I watch his every move now. He stacks and unstacks the comics. He studies one cover, then moves onto another, trying his best not

to glance at me. I know that’s what he’s doing because every time he looks up and I’m looking at him, his eyes dart back down.

It gets quiet, so I go back to my book.

We spend the next few hours thumbing through different issues. He’ll show me a particular series of panels that are well done. I

’ll show him a classic ad for Sea-Monkeys or x-ray glasses. We have a couple of conversations about the importance of this

character or that event. He checks on Dan every once in a while, which always ends with Dan saying something like, “What the hell

are you doing back there anyway?” or, “Dude, you know I’m not getting paid for this shit, which is probably against the law.

Child labor going on right here in the heartland of America!”

“Is he really that upset? I can go if you need to be up there,” I say after the third time Logan comes back from up front.

“He’s fine. He doesn’t do anything else but hang out here anyway. Plus, I let him read all the books he wants when he watches

the register.”

Just then, my phone goes off. My ringtone is a song about this guy who wishes he would have said something to this girl he has

great chemistry with. I love how the singer sounds like he’s speaking from the heart.

I jump up when I see it’s Eric calling.

“I should…” I glance from the screen of my phone to Logan. His brow is furrowed.

For a moment, I contemplate not answering. It’s hard to let go of this place, but Eric is considerate even if he isn’t the

smartest dog in the hunt. He might call my parents and say he can’t get in touch with me. Then they might call Terra, who wouldn

’t know anything about going swimming today. I’ll be in super-duper trouble before the summer even gets started.

I put one hand over my other ear to block out the grainy music. “Hello.”

“Hey, babe, sorry I didn’t answer this morning. Where did you go last night?”

“I, uh, just wanted to get home. I was tired. Just wanted to sleep in my own bed.”

“How’d you get home?”

I cut my gaze to Logan and catch him staring. He quickly becomes immersed in another cover. “My brother was in town. I just

called him.”

There’s some yelling in the background, and Eric says, “All right, dude, I’m coming! I have to go, babe. I’ll talk to you

later, okay?”

“Okay, bye.”

“Was that the quarterback boyfriend?” Logan asks when I hang up, not even looking at me.

“Yeah, he’s on vacation in Florida.”

“Must be nice.” He finally looks at me and crosses his arms. “So, I’m your brother, huh?”

All that camaraderie and all the awesome comic and radio talk…gone, as all the comfortable leaves the situation

“He can get jealous.” I start putting the books back into their boxes because it is definitely time to go.

“Just leave them. I’ll get it.”

And now I’ve hurt his feelings. Great going, me. I gather my things and remind myself how bad of an idea this was. I really

shouldn’t be jerking this guy around. He doesn’t deserve my brand of crazy messing up his life.

“Well, thanks for all of…this. I’ll see you around, maybe,” I say before unlocking the door and stepping out into the boiling

heat.

I swear he says something under his breath behind me. Something that sounds like, “Yeah, right.”

Man, I suck at life.