Nerd Romance — Note from a Stranger
“Who is Sharon?”
This is yet another chapter in a series I “finished” last year, but my characters kept talking to me. Then Roz Warren convinced me into fill out the series into a book, so now I’m working on that. Most of what I’ve been doing lately has been filling in gaps or adding to existing material, but this chapter felt like it could stand without the reader having just finished the one before.
If you do want to read the one before, it’s here:
Short summary of the story to date:
The series covers two academic over-achievers with limited social skills (aka “nerds”) in the last semester of their junior year in high school. They call each other by their initials, so she is “E” and he is “K.” They are engaging in a “practice” relationship, working from an agreed upon list of goals (that includes things like “practice making out”), trying to learn to be more like regular people before they head off to college. Both kids agreed that this is a mutually beneficial partnership, completely practical, and not in any way a romantic association.
K had time to settle himself into his desk, arrange his books and notebooks as he liked, and essentially be ready to start English class when E walked in. Is she okay? She’s biting her lower lip. This is never good. We had lunch one period ago, what could have happened in the meantime?
E hurriedly put her books down on the desk in front of him, sat down, turned to face K and announced breathlessly, “Carl asked me out.” She stared intently at her practice boyfriend, waiting for a reaction.
Who is Carl? was what K thought of first. We have lots of Carls in our school, but I can’t think of any we’d know. Or who would know E well enough to ask her out. Has she mentioned a Carl that I’ve forgotten about? She’s biting her lip again, whatever is going on has her upset. “Um, who is Carl? Have y — ”
“I don’t know!” whispered E intensely. “That’s what’s so weird! He left a note in my locker!” She turned around, opened her notebook, and produced a three-by-five card that she gave to K. She resumed gnawing on her lower lip as she watched K read it.
“Okay, so, he’s been in math class with you since first semester, he thinks you’re very nice and very pretty, and he wants to go out with you.” K read the note again. “This is very vague. It’s also kind of hard to read his handwriting in some spots. I would have put more effort into making it neat. And a blank three-by-five card is a little tacky, don’t you think?” He looked up at E, staring at him and breathing hard. “What?”
“What am I supposed to do?” she fierce-whispered. She started to say something else, then went back to chewing her lower lip.
“Ummm…” The choices seemed obvious; what was there to be upset about? So obviously he was missing something. He was learning, though, that some of his misunderstandings with E were rooted in base assumptions that both of them had learned to make; discussion would reveal the disconnect, they would determine a new commonality, and thereby resolve the issue. Let’s start with the obvious choices. “You go out with him. Or not.” He hesitated. Nope, no third choice that I can think of.
“No, doofus, you’re missing the point! Are you — ” At that point the bell rang, their teacher started to speak, E mouthed “LATER!” at him, and then turned around in her seat.
K started to tuck the note away until after class, then noticed that at one point it had been folded in half. He refolded it, message-side in, and then saw a name that was not E’s printed in large letters on the non-message side. Ah! So this note was supposed to be for somebody else! Okay, that’s easy to fix. Good, we’ll get this sorted out after English and be all set! That will make her happy! K cheerfully stowed the note away and turned his attention to the teacher.
E organized her books and notebooks as soon as the bell rang, then turned around to check on K’s progress. As usual, he was a tad slower than she was, but she knew from experience that trying to rush him was counter-productive. C’mon, K, hurry up! What did you do with the note?
K started to stand, saw E was still seated, sat back down. As the room emptied, he produced the three-by-five card, still bent in half, and triumphantly showed the addressee to E. “See? It was just a mistake!”
Who is Sharon? Why did K write “Sharon” on the card? “Who is Sharon?”
“Well, it’s not you! See! Carl, or whoever, put the note in the wrong locker, it unfolded, you didn’t see the back side, and so you thought it was meant for you. Easy mistake!” K’s initial happy smile slowly slipped as he looked at E’s face. “So it’s okay now?” He was looking more and more uncertain about that assessment as he watched his practice girlfriend glower at him.
“So you didn’t write that?”
He looked at the card, then back at her. “It’s not even my handwriting, E! Why would I write Sharon’s name on it?”
“Who is Sharon?”
“See, that’s the best part, we don’t care! Right? You can just ignore it. It all works out.” K tried smiling reassuringly. When he did not get a reassuring smile back, he followed with, “Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not — “ Crap, yes I am! I am totally pissed at him. Why am I pissed at him? Why is he treating this like a joke? Another guy asks me out, and he treats it like a joke? What is wrong with him? “Okay, first, why aren’t you getting upset that another guy asked out your girlfriend?”
“My…” K’s face showed total confusion. He started to chew his lower lip.
That’s new behavior. I wonder where he got that from. “Yes? You were about to say?” He’s acting like I’m glaring at him, or something. Fine, I’m glaring. “C’mon, speak up!”
“You’re… you’re my practice girlfriend. You’re my friend. I thought you had a problem and you were coming to me for help. Like friends do. Because you’re my friend.” He bit his lip again, then whispered, “I thought I was your friend.” He paused, waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he whispered, “Aren’t I?”
He looks like, I dunno, like I shot his dog right in front of him or something. And I just did, didn’t I, crap for brains. Oh god, K, I messed up, you were trying to be a helpful friend, and I was looking for a jealous boyfriend or something. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She stood up, opened her arms, motioned him to her, and said, “C’mere, you!” She pulled him into a bearhug as he stood up. “I am so, so, so sorry, K! You were being all analytical and helpful and you and everything, and I was getting all pissed off because my stupid brain decided you were supposed to, I dunno, fight for my honor or challenge Carl to a duel or some stupid macho thing and I hate stupid macho things and you don’t do stuff like that and that’s why I like you so much. Then I got all mad because you weren’t doing the exact thing I would have gotten all mad at you for if you had done it.” She continued to hug him, and gently ran one hand up and down his back; he mimicked that on her back. “You’re being a really good practice boyfriend and I’m being a total crap practice girlfriend. I’m sorry.” She fell silent for several seconds. “You can talk now. If you want.”
“Can I get that in writing? The ‘good practice boyfriend’ part? I might want to use that the next time I mess up.” He increased the strength of his hug, which she made mutual; they released and looked at each other, wiping tears from their eyes. “I’m sorry, E, I just — you’re my friend, and I know you’re my girlfriend, too, but I just — I dunno, I don’t think of you as a girl, most of the time.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let’s try that again? She blinked several times. “So… let me make sure I understand. Me… the person whom you have kissed at the end of every date, and lately when we say goodnight even when we’ve just been getting together to study. The person with whom you made out in the back seat of your mother’s car, touching, if I may be so blunt, parts of me that are ever so definitely girly. That person, you don’t think of as a girl, ‘most of the time’? Have I summarized the situation succinctly but sufficiently? And stop biting your lip, you aren’t a little kid.”
K looked like a cartoon character who had just been whacked with a club. He suddenly took a deep breath, as if he’d realized he’d stopped breathing. “Okay, see, one second you’re my friend E and the next second you’re my girlfriend E and I need to talk to my friend E because I keep pissing off my girlfriend and my friend always knows what to do.” He took another breath, then shut his mouth.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest. Don’t smile, don’t smile, stay serious, let him talk. “Okay, talk.”
“My girlfriend is semi-psychotic and I’m not sure how to handle it. Um, suggestions, maybe? Hopefully not involving expensive psychotropic drugs?”
She looked down at the floor until she got her smile under control, then looked back up. “Okay, fortunately your girlfriend E and I talk a lot. So first, tell her boyfriend K that he needs to be more romantic and complimentary, like letting her know she’s a wonderful girlfriend — ”
“You are a wonderful girlfriend! And your haircut looks great!”
“Don’t improvise! Although that was pretty good, for you. Then check to make sure there’s nobody looking in at the door — ” They both pivoted slightly to look at the door, then turned back to each other. “ — and then give her a kiss. Like you’d kiss a girl.” His head started to move toward hers. “Keep the lips closed, buddy, this is still a classroom, not a cheap motel!”
They had a short but decidedly boy-girl smooch. They touched foreheads afterward.
“Do you ever wonder, K, if we’re going to kill each other before the end of the semester?”
“No way. If I ever kill my girlfriend, I want my friend E to help me figure out how to get rid of the body. You’re safe.”
“Valid point. So you’re probably safe, too, probably.”
As they gathered their stuff and headed for the door, K whipped out the three-by-five card. “Wait! We still don’t know. Who is Sharon?”
E plucked the card out of his hand and tossed it in the trash. “Carl’s problem, my friend, not ours! See ya at lab tomorrow!”
“See ya at lab. Girlfriend!”
He headed left down the hall, she headed right.
Next: More romantic? Sure, K can do more romantic! And the parents will help.
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