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Slouching back on the couch, interlocking his fingers and resting his head on his hands, he gives me a good impression of someone who’s trying to look cool, but not sure if they’re doing it right. He’s so doing it right.
Holy Batman. Maybe I’m not exactly popular with everyone. I’ve changed almost one-hundred percent and people are still talking about me behind my back. My cheeks blow up, and I force the tears away. Breathe, Zoe. Breathe! You have to breathe! I can’t, though. It hurts too much. It’s like it’s two years ago again, and I’m right back to where I was. Being insulted and gossiped about. It doesn’t matter that Ariana’s one of the loser girls. It feels close to the same as it did before. Only this time, she’s making fun of someone I’m trying to be, and not who I really am. I guess that’s not as bad.
“Tell you what. Put your hand on the shifter.” I glare at him. “Just do it. Trust me.” I huff, but I slam my hand down on the stupid thing. “Okay,” he says before setting his hand on mine. He weaves his fingers in between my own, and I swear I swallowed a drummer with the way my heart pounds in my throat. I steal a glance at him, and he looks like he’s about to sweat a rainstorm. “I-I’ll shift, you worry about the clutch.” He gulps and his grip tightens on my hand. If he thinks this is less distracting, he’s dead wrong.
On the walk home, I seriously wish I wasn’t so insecure.
Like, I’m so crazy lucky to have a dad who cares, who listens, who works freakish hours for his family, and I cry my eyes out over that alone.
“Zoe, no matter what you do, or who you are, there will always be people who don’t understand.” He picks up my chin and gives me an awkward smile. “Are you happy with yourself?” Wow, not what I expected. And it takes me a minute to figure out which me he’s asking about. I guess the answer is the same either way, and if my head wasn’t so foggy, I’d go through the pros and cons list of Popular Zoe vs. Geek Zoe. “Sometimes.” It’s about as honest as I can be. He sighs, slowly returning to his normal color. “Then erase the part that makes you unhappy.”
“It’s okay, Zoester. I don’t mind. I wanted to make sure you were okay before you went to school.” I do an emotional and mental checklist before answering. “Surprisingly, yeah.” As long as I channel Darth Vader, I’ll be fine.
His chest relaxes under my cheek. “You will always be my friend.” He tilts my face up, those darn black eyes pulling me under. “I know who you really are, and I like it. I wish you felt the same way about yourself.”
“Didn’t you notice how flustered I got? How weak I am when it comes to you? Dammit, Zo, you’ve got me.”
I pull him into a tighter hug, kissing his earlobe before I whisper to him. “Nin ore lin.” He laughs and pulls back to peck me on the forehead. “You have my heart too.”
“And, you aren’t worried about what that’ll do to your rep?” Now I blow up my cheeks and let the air seep out before I answer. “Not really anymore, no.” “Wow.” “What?” “I… I mean I wish I could be that confident.” Yeah, me too.
Besides, what I’m losing couldn’t possibly add up to what I’m gaining. Like my dad said, erase the parts that make me unhappy. I guess that means emphasizing the parts that do. So that means Harry Potter, Dr. Who, Lord of the Rings, and all my comic-book buddies need to know I’m not embarrassed of them, either. Geek Zoe makes me happy.
“It’s not a joke. I’m sorry I haven’t been totally honest with you about this, but you can see why I wasn’t. There’s no way in hell you would’ve ever been my friend if you knew I was a closet nerd.” I wait for her to argue, or to tell me something encouraging like, “You’ll always be my peep. No worries!” But she doesn’t. She doesn’t say anything. I leave before I really start crying. Now I know how it feels when your best friend is embarrassed by you. Karma’s a bitch.
