A Catastrophe of Nerdish Proportions (23 page)

Beanpole stared, waiting for more. I could tell by the look on her face that she didn't believe me.

“It's true,” I said. “Beyond that, we didn't really talk much. Marty came back, and the two of them are a disaster. But my dad did ask if I want to go to a basketball game with him this season; said he could get good tickets to the NBA. We're a work in progress, I guess.”

I gulped down a second swig of soda and then took another chomp of Giuseppe's famous extra-cheesy pizza.

“Hi, Maureen,” said Logan, walking up to our table.

“
Glrrmmff mlimpfft
,” I answered, caught between bites, trying to swallow.

“Can I, like, talk to you for a sec?” he asked, edging toward a tree that was about twenty feet away. Sofes, Beanpole, and Q giggled.

“Um, sure,” I said, quickly wiping my chin. We walked away to chat in private.

“I got you something,” he said, handing me a box.

“You did?”

He got me a gift?
I took the small, square package but hesitated before opening it.

“Please tell me it's not a wedding ring,” I said. “'Cause I really think we should live together first.”

“Naww,” Logan replied with a smile. “It's not a wedding ring. Weddings are stupid.”

Well, I wouldn't have gone that far. I opened the box.

“Whoa, a State Championship Academic Septathlon medal,” I said, holding up the blue ribbon on which a tarnished silver medallion hung. I looked more closely. It was discolored, and the piece certainly had lost its shine, but emblazoned across the front, the medal clearly read
CAPTAIN
.

“Where'd you get it?”

“Turns out my dad was captain of his Septathlon team about a hundred years ago, and when he saw the contest on channel 723, and he saw you, well…he wanted me to give it to you,” Logan told me. “Said, when I got home that night…Naw, I'm embarrassed to say.”

“What?” I said. “Tell me.”

“He said I'd picked a winner to have a crush on.”

My heart melted.

“And he didn't mean it like pick a booger, either.”

“Yeah, uh, I kinda got that, Logan.”

“Do you think maybe I can walk you home from school today?” he asked. “I mean, not like, carry your books or anything, 'cause that would be stupid. Heck, books are stupid. Not like video games. Video games are not stupid, but—”

“Yes,” I said, interrupting him. “I'd love for you to walk me home from school today.” I stared at the championship medallion.

“Cool.” Logan's blue eyes sparkled. “I'll meet you at the front gate.”

“See you, then,” I said. Logan trotted back to his group of friends, and I floated back to my lunch table, my head in the clouds.

“Oooh, there's gonna be some smoochy-smoochy,” Q teased.

A smile felt as if it had been permanently stamped on my face.

“What'd he give you? What'd he give you?” Beanpole asked, taking the box from me. “Wow. Captain.” She looked up. “You deserve it, Mo.”

“Yeah,” said Sofes. “Like, you taught me to be an optometrist.”

“You mean an optimist.”

“Exactly, Captain,” Sofes replied. “You taught me to be an optimist.”

Q reached over, took the medallion from Beanpole, and inspected its details. A moment later, she passed it back to me and nodded approvingly. “Aardvark.”

I grinned and picked up my slice of pizza.
Mmm
, how much did I love Giuseppe's?

I walked to the garbage and threw my entire lunch away, soda and all.

“What's the matter?” Beanpole asked.

“I know what the matter is,” Q said.

Everyone turned.

“Maureen's in”—
Wheeesh-whooosh. Wheeesh-whooosh
—“love.”

I flushed. It was time to stop kidding myself, I thought. Eat good, feel good. I mean, how long had I been violating one of life's simplest rules?

“Tell us, tell us, when are you going to see him again?” Beanpole asked.

“After school. He's walking me home.”

“Awww,” said Beanpole, leaning backward. “So romantic.” But she leaned too far backward and fell off the bench.

Thud.

“Don't worry, don't worry, I'm okay,” she said, scrambling back up. “I may still need a few more tai chi classes.”

“Or a wardrobe made of protective body armor,” I offered.

“Can I just say something?” Sofes asked as she reached over and pulled a leaf out of Beanpole's hair.

“Of course you can,” Beanpole replied, a twig still dangling from her curls.

“Nerds are fun.”

“We're not just fun,” I replied. “Nerds rule.”