Dating on the Dork Side

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

ON TUESDAY, the wiki was wild with speculation about the girls' newfound reserve, and Byron brought three friends with him to the tutoring room. The boys shuffled in with the hoods of their hoodies pulled over their heads. They hadn’t been there very long when one of them said, “I don’t believe you, man.”

“They are going to be here, right?” Byron whispered to me.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I guess.”

He looked like he might vomit. “I mean, yesterday really did happen, right? I didn’t just dream it.”

It’d been more of a nightmare, I thought, but all I said was, “Math?”

He huffed and shrugged.

“What about you guys?” I asked his friends.

“They suck at math worse than I do,” Byron said.

Somehow, I convinced all four of them to stay. For ten minutes, I was pretty sure no boy was even thinking of the pom squad. I’d almost forgotten all about them when they burst through the door again. The only difference was that today they were carrying their book bags.

The pom-poms still went everywhere, but in between, there were notebooks, pencils, and calculators filling the tables too. I dug out the kitchen timer I used for practice tests and set it. That way I could send a fresh batch of girls to a study break at the windows every ten minutes.

When I started helping the boys with simple equations, even the pom squad girls listened in.

“Gosh, Camy,” Lexy said. “You make it sound so simple.” She was actually taking calculus like me this year, but I guess she liked the review.

“‘If people do not believe that mathematics is simple, it is only because they do not realize how complicated life is,’” I said.

All of the girls and most of the boys looked at me like the dork sign on my forehead had just switched on again. Byron was the only one who smiled.

“That’s … John von Neumann, isn’t it?” he said.

“How do you know that?” I was shocked … and a little impressed.

“My mom,” he said, and made a face. “She teaches math at Olympia Community College.”

Okay, so that explained why she was making him get the C.

“I have this friend named Rhino. It’s one of his favorite quotes, but math is actually my worst subject,” I said.

“No way!” both Lexy and Byron said.

I grinned. “Way.” But I don’t think either of them believed it.

Change was definitely in the air. By Thursday, the guys on the wiki were openly questioning the silent treatment they were receiving in the halls, and my tutoring room had never been so busy. Byron brought more boys with him each day. That many boys in one spot attracted a few more girls. I still set the timer for ten minutes, but sometimes the pom squad ignored the beeps. They were too busy working on their projects.

Lexy lugged a big folder of clothing designs with her that day. I hadn’t taken a Family and Consumer Sciences class since the required one two years ago. They taught fashion design at our school? Really?

I stood near the windows, stealing looks at the football field while watching Lexy sketch.

“Oh, Camy,” she said. “Stay just like that, with your arm right there. You can be my model.”

I was flattered. Plus, I had an awesome view of practice.

“I’m designing a 1920s flapper dress,” Lexy explained. “They look best on girls with flat chests. You’re perfect.”

At least I still had football.

Later, I stood by the tutoring room door and just watched everyone work. It was almost as good as watching the guys on the field.

“What have you done here, Ladybug?” I turned to find Rhino leaning against the doorframe. “This is some kind of miracle.”

I’d always loved the tutoring room with its bank of windows that let in the sunshine, even during the long Minnesota winters. But now it had become some kind of nerd heaven. Classical music was playing from somebody’s iPhone and that math quote was taped to the wall above the white board. Lexy had brought it in the day before. She’d done it all up in fancy letters and glitter glue. It was beautiful, even if she’d given credit for the quote to Rhino instead of von Neumann.

Rhino pointed at the quote. “I know I’m good, but I don’t remember ever being that good.” He took another step into the room. “You’ve done something pretty amazing here,” he said, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

I shook my head. “Nah, it was Elle. She’s the one who sent them.” I pointed to a few girls from the pom squad. “I just gave them stuff to do.”

“Do you see Elle here? Is she hiding in the storage closet or something? Elle dumps her problems on you and you make … I don’t even know what to call this. It’s like scholastic Shangri-La.”

It felt good to hear Rhino praising me. I would’ve liked for it to go on forever. But, just then, Ms. Pendergast and Elle appeared behind him. Ms. P blinked, like finding actual students in the tutoring room was some kind of freak accident.

She turned to Elle. “Did you say there was a problem?”

Elle stared into the room. She looked a little shocked too, but she shook her head. “No, no problem. I just wanted you to see all the great work Camy’s doing.” She perked up and gave the teacher a giant smile.

Ms. Pendergast smiled back. “Oh, Elle. You’re such a positive influence on everyone.”

Barf.

A clomp, clomp, clomp on the stairs got everyone’s attention. We turned all at once, and there was Sophie Vega. She barreled forward with her head down, all skinny jeans and scary boots. She was three feet from the tutoring room when she finally looked up and skidded to a stop.

“Holy sh—” she said.

Ms. Pendergast stiffened from the top of her head all the way down to her toes. She gave Sophie a look that was so cold, I had to blink to make sure actual icicles weren’t forming on her eyelashes.

“I’ll leave you to it, then, Camy.” Ms. Pendergast headed for the stairs. She turned back and aimed another frosty look at Sophie. “You seem to have your hands full.”

“Screw this,” Sophie said. She bolted down the hall, away from the stairs and Ms. Pendergast.

“Wait!” I shouted. I ran after her, putting all my weight on my right leg.

Halfway down the hall, I felt a twinge zing through my knee. Then it gave out completely. I fell and smacked against the tile floor.

“What the—?” Sophie screeched to a stop. A second later, she was kneeling beside me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I pulled myself up, then sat on the floor. My right knee was throbbing, but I was more embarrassed than anything. “It’s just … I hurt it playing football.”

“Playing what? You know, you’re the weirdest girl I know.”

From anyone else, that would’ve felt like an insult, but Sophie sounded sincere. I started to explain, but just then Rhino landed next to us.

“Jeez, Cams,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Remember when I said I was going jogging with my dad? I forgot my knee support and I’m paying for it now.”

“And you.” Rhino ignored me and turned on Sophie.

Sophie raised her hands. “How was I supposed to know there was something wrong with her leg? I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t expecting the Pender-witch to be here. She still hates me because she couldn’t flunk my ass last year.” Sophie held out her hand to help me up. “Actually, she should hate you. You’re the reason I managed to get a B.”

“You got a B plus,” I said. I remembered how happy Sophie had been when it happened. I’d been pretty happy about it too. It had taken two weeks of hard work (and swallowing back my fear of her) to get Sophie to write an extra-credit book report.

I limped back down the hall. When we got to the tutoring room, I turned to Sophie. “Come on in,” I said.

Sophie stood on her toes to look past me into the room. Her gaze landed on the pom squad first, then Elle. “I-I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s just not my thing.”

“What’s not your thing? Tutoring?”

“Them.” When she clomped off down the stairs, her boots hit the floor so hard I thought they’d leave dents in the linoleum.

I sank back against the door, taking the weight off my leg. “Damn.”

“You can’t save everyone, Ladybug.”

“What good is this?” I pointed to the tutoring room. “If it can’t help people like her?”

Rhino raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t want your pity, you know.”

“It isn’t pity.” I pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars. “The whole time I was working with her last year, I wanted to shake her. She’s so smart. She could be anything she wanted. She just doesn’t see it.”

“If you did shake her, she’d probably beat you up.”

“True.”

Rhino laughed. “Speaking of people who could be anything they wanted, have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Huh?”

“Think about it, Ladybug.” Rhino headed for the stairs. “See you later?”

I nodded and he took off. I considered heading to the bathroom and its mirror right then. Instead, I stared at the glittery quote above the white board.

If people do not believe that mathematics is simple, it is only because they do not realize how complicated life is.

As much as I struggled with calculus, one thing was for sure. Math might hurt my head, but it had never hurt my heart.

Friday morning, I followed Rhino up the bleachers, past rows of whispering girls and boys who looked like they wanted to kick puppies. The wiki had exploded with conjecture all week until they'd finally come to a consensus: Something was definitely up with the girls. When they found out what it was and who had started it, well, payback was going to be a “mutha.”

I took slow steps since I still wasn’t sure my knee would hold me. Why Rhino was insisting on a specific spot for the pep rally escaped me. It wasn’t like he cared that our football team wouldn’t play a home game for two weeks. He wouldn’t care if they never played another game. Ever. But today, he didn’t plop down in the lower section. Instead, he picked a seat near the top of the bleachers, right in front of Sophie Vega and her group of slackers and dregs.

“Ms. Vega,” Rhino said, nodding at her.

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Mr. Rhinoceros.”

Rhino turned to me. “Have you thought about how sexist this thing is?”

“What thing?”

“This.” He spread his arms wide.

“Which way?” I asked. “I mean, the list is really pretty endless.”

“For one, did we vote on any guys?”

I was the Tutor Girl, right? It wasn’t like I was stupid. Plus, my mom was one of those “I am womyn, hear me rawr” kind of feminists. I knew what he meant, but I made a joke about it anyway.

“Poor Rhino. Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to be homecoming queen?”

Sophie snorted and leaned forward. “You have such pretty eyes, too.”

The band started up and the pom squad ran in holding their humongous pom-poms above their heads. They lined up to make an archway, which the cheerleaders burst through. Mercedes came through last with so many back handsprings that it made me dizzy.

“Girl’s got some moves,” Sophie said.

The cheerleaders held up a paper banner that said Go, Trojans, Go! Gavin Madison and the football team tore through that. For the next few minutes, there was a lot of running around. No one seemed to know where to sit or stand or what came next.

“Fascinating,” Rhino said.

I poked him in the ribs. “Quiet. Elle’s going to talk.”

Elle stepped away from the rest of the cheerleading squad and took a cordless microphone from one of the techies. In half head cheerleader, half student council president mode, she stood in the center of the gym.

“Good morning, Olympia High Trojan Warriors!” she cried.

I think her voice could have filled the gym even without the microphone. With it, her words ricocheted off the high ceiling. She jogged to each set of bleachers and held the mic toward the stands, commanding us to show our school spirit. She kept that up, zigzagging from one side of the gym to the other until she deemed us sufficiently spirited. Back at center court, Elle stood, legs braced as if against a storm.

“Let’s give our guys a big Trojan sendoff!”

On her command, the entire gym went wild. Well, almost. I glanced at Rhino, who was now feigning sleep, complete with fake snoring.

When the noise died down, Elle passed the mic to Aiden, since the presumptive homecoming queen couldn’t exactly announce her own candidacy. He held something above his head.

“Inside this envelope are the names of the five most beautiful and accomplished senior girls at Olympia High School.”

It was kind of hard to tell from where I was sitting, but I think even Elle rolled her eyes at that one. While Aiden walked around, waving the envelope like a flag, this year’s royal escorts made their way to the center of the gym. Gavin and Lukas stepped forward from the group of football players. Jason stomped down the bleachers next. Kyle Monroe, the swim team captain, followed him.

Back at center court, Aiden tore open the envelope and pulled out a slip of paper. “Our first candidate needs no introduction. You know her from cheerleading, the girls’ gymnastics team, and from the way she brought home the girls’ state tennis championship last year. Give it up for the most flexible girl in school … Mercedes Washington!”

Mercedes shot up three feet off the floor. She bounced when she landed, and both hands were clamped over her mouth. Her escort, Kyle, stepped forward and she dashed to meet him. He took her arm and led her to a spot in the middle of the gym.

When the applause slowed down, Aiden reached into the envelope again. He pretended to tug, as if the envelope wouldn’t give up the next name.

“Lame,” Rhino said.

“Aha!” Aiden finally pulled the slip of paper free. “The dance team and the drama club won’t be the same when our next candidate moves on to college next year. Let’s hear it for the girl most likely to hear the phrase ‘and the Oscar goes to’—Clarissa Delacroix!”

Applause rocked the bleachers. The dance team leaped to their feet. Clarissa rose and picked her way down the stands, pausing briefly for quick hugs and congratulations. It was like she was already practicing for that Oscar walk. Lukas met her, but Aiden stared after them. Despite all the words on the wiki, despite the deep freeze she’d given him all week, his expression was almost wistful. After a second, he turned back to his envelope and slipped the third piece of paper free.

Rhino yawned. “How many more?”

“Our next candidate really shows what it means to be a Trojan warrior.” Aiden glanced from the slip of paper to the crowd. “I think we can say that she’s touched all of our lives one way or another. I know for sure,” he continued, “the school couldn’t run without her. Give it up for true Trojan royalty...”

“Elle Emerson,” Rhino said a split second before Aiden did.

The school went wild. Even Rhino applauded. Okay, so he did it with long pauses between each clap. Still, he did it. It was impossible not to. This was Elle Emerson. And this was her school.

Aiden himself walked over to the cheerleading squad and linked arms with Elle. They glided back to the others. Elle managed to look both surprised and not surprised at the same time. I still don’t know how she did that. Aiden left her standing in the middle, between the other two couples, waving at the crowd. It looked like she’d been crowned queen already.

Aiden pulled the fourth slip from the envelope. For a few long seconds, he stared at the name in front of him. He blinked a few times.

“I knew it,” Rhino said. “He’s finally run out of ridiculous things to say.”

A thought came to me as I watched Aiden wipe beads of sweat off his forehead. This hadn’t been rehearsed. Whatever was on that slip of paper was a Big Surprise. I turned to Rhino, but he was busy chewing a cuticle.

“Our next candidate.” Aiden cleared his throat. “She’s touched ... um, I mean, she’s ... well, she definitely gives new meaning to the Trojan Warrior name.” He glanced up at the ceiling like the words he was looking for might show up there. I guess they did because, after another awkward moment, he went on to say, “She’s … unique. Yeah. So let’s, uh, let’s hear it for … Sophie Vega.”

No one clapped at first, not even that polite kind of applause people use in those extra-special moments of humiliation. Sophie jerked forward, but she didn’t stand. Her eyes grew wide.

Then one of her friends shouted, “Dude! You’re in the homecoming court. Get! Out! There!” With both hands, she shoved Sophie in the back, forcing her to rise.

Sophie wobbled. She swayed forward, then back. I thought she might fall. Or faint. I even held up a hand to steady her. Then Jason Abernathy did something I’ll never forget. He left his spot on the gym floor and crashed through the crowd, taking the bleacher steps two at a time. He landed next to us and the planks thundered under his weight. Without a word, he scooped Sophie into his arms.

“What the—” Sophie began.

A few people started clapping then. But when Jason carried Sophie down the bleachers, everyone went crazy. Okay, so everyone who wasn’t really anyone went crazy—the misfits, the loners, the losers. But it wasn’t just them. The geeks and the gamers, the skaters, and the kids who were usually invisible at school jumped to their feet. I stood along with them. Then I tugged Rhino by his shirt until he got up too.

Jason wouldn’t put Sophie down until he was standing next to the other couples. She smacked his arm, but he just laughed. Her cheeks were bright red, and she scanned the crowd like a kitten in a cage, like she wanted to trust us, but didn’t dare.

“Explain that,” I said to Rhino when the cheers faded and we sat back down.

“Well, I do have a theory. But it’s sexist … and crude.” He eyed me. “Incredibly crude.”

“Spare me, then.”

“Already planned on it.”

“There is one more candidate,” Aiden said. He felt around in the envelope, making a huge show of digging out that last slip of paper.

“What do you think?” Rhino said. “Another cheerleader? I mean, we have the queen bee, the athlete, the drama queen, the school sl—”

“Don’t even say it,” I growled.

“Well, how would you describe Sophie, then?”

“Misunderstood.”

Rhino snorted. “The ‘misunderstood’.” And he drew those little quotation marks in the air. “Who’s left?”

“You,” I told him. “I added your name as a write-in candidate.”

Finally, Aiden drew the last name from the envelope. He stared again, a lot like he had after pulling out Sophie’s name.

“Well.” He gave the paper a shake and held it away from him. “No one can say the Olympia homecoming court isn’t well-rounded. I’m pretty sure half of the senior class will graduate because of this next girl. Our fifth and final homecoming candidate has beauty and brains. So let’s hear it for good grades and … Camy Cavanaugh!”

Rhino’s jaw dropped open. “It worked,” he said. “It actually worked.”

“What worked?” I asked. Then I looked around for some other girl to stand up and head to the middle of the gym, some other Camy Cavanaugh. People started clapping. Kids started turning in my direction. It felt just like that time when I wasn’t paying attention in class and the teacher called on me. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. This insane urge to apologize came over me. I’m sorry! I wanted to shout. It isn’t my fault. I’ll do better next time.

Rhino nudged me. “Go on,” he said.

Gavin, the last royal escort—my escort—crossed the gym floor and stood at the bottom of the bleachers. He propped one foot on the lowest seat and held out his hand. It was a very Prince Charming kind of move.

I studied the amount of space between us. It was a long way to go on a knee that had refused to hold me up just the day before. It was a really long way to go with everybody in the school watching. Forget making it all the way down to the gym floor; I wasn’t sure I’d even get to the next row. But there didn’t seem to be any other option.

Come on, I told myself. You can do this. And I did.

Just as I stepped off the last row of bleachers and onto the gym floor, I felt my knee start to buckle. Gavin caught me by the elbow and held me up.

“You okay?” he whispered.

I inhaled, one long breath. “Sort of. I’m a little shocked, I guess.”

He smiled. “I’m not.”

I stood in the middle of the gym with Gavin’s arm locked around mine. If you’d asked me ahead of time, I would have told you that things like pep rallies and queen contests were just silly rituals that grownups forced young people to do. If you asked my mom, she would have told you it was something a whole lot worse.

But when I looked up into the stands and thought about stuff like traditions, I wondered: Do we do these things because they really mean something? Not in the whole big picture of things but, like, in the here and now? Is it like holding a snowflake on the tip of your finger, and seeing its beauty before it melts away?

Maybe, I thought. And maybe, having that in the here and now was enough.