Geek Abroad (15 page)

I didn’t bother to stifle my sigh of irritation. Austin Strong, the headliner of the St. Pius Mu Alpha Theta team, was nearly as good at math as I was. Nearly . . . but not quite. He hadn’t beaten me yet. Yes, St. Pius had won the state finals for the past three years in a row. . . . But that was only because they had yet to face the Geek High team in a state final championship. We’d beaten them at every single one of the regular-season competitions.

“Don’t worry about St. Pius,”I said. “They’ve never beaten us before. There’s no reason to think they will now.”

“I don’t want to get overconfident,”Sanjiv cautioned. “I think we should fit in extra practice sessions. I drew up a new study schedule.”He brandished a stack of papers and handed them to Kyle. “Take one and pass it back.”

Kyle passed out the schedules. When I got mine, I stared down at it in disbelief.

“Sanjiv! This is ridiculous. We can’t practice every afternoon,”I exclaimed.

“He’s got practice scheduled on Saturdays, too,”Leila said. She looked up, her eyes narrowed behind her cat’s-eye glasses. “Come on, Sanjiv. This is total overkill.”

“I gave you Sundays off,”Sanjiv pointed out.

“How reasonable of you,”I muttered.

“When are we supposed to do our homework?”Kyle asked, sounding as disgruntled as I felt. “I have a quiz in history next week, and a paper due in English, and I already have a pile of chem homework.”

Sanjiv held up his hands, palms facing out, as though to ward us off. “Look, I know it’s a lot of time. But winning takes commitment and sacrifice. If we want to be champions, we have to earn it. This is just as important as schoolwork. The Geek High MATh team hasn’t won the state championship for the past three years.”

“Yeah, well school is important, too,”Kyle said flatly.

“I agree. I’m applying to colleges in the fall. I can’t afford to let my GPA slip now,”Leila said.

“Maybe we could come up with a compromise,”I suggested. “Like dropping the five-hour practice you have scheduled for Saturday. And rather than practicing every day after school, we’ll practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Sanjiv looked stunned. “But that’s a cut of . . . of . . .”He trailed off, trying to calculate the percentage in his head.

“Eighty percent,”I said.

“Showoff,”Kyle muttered.

“We can’t afford an eighty-percent cut in our practice hours,”Sanjiv argued.

“Look at it this way,”Leila said. “It’s either cut back the practices . . . or lose the team altogether.”

“How do you figure that?”Sanjiv asked.

“Because I’ll have to quit,”Leila said. “I’ve got SAT’s coming up. And college visits.”She waved Sanjiv’s schedule. “I can’t devote this sort of time to Mu Alpha Theta.”

“Same here,”Kyle said.

“Seriously, Sanjiv, it’s too much,”I agreed.

We all looked at Nicholas. He shrugged. “I don’t mind,”he said. “I don’t have anything better to do.”

“That’s three to two,”Kyle said. “We win.”

“Okay,”Sanjiv said, defeated. “So we’ll drop Saturdays.”

“And only two practices after school,”Leila countered.

“Four,”Sanjiv offered.

I sighed. “Let’s settle on three. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays.”

Everyone nodded, although Kyle did so reluctantly. I doubted he’d drop the team, though. He didn’t have many extracurriculars; a MATh state championship trophy could make or break his college applications.

“Okay,”I said. “That’s decided. Let’s get started on the practice drills for today, or else we’ll never get out of here.”

Sanjiv looked wounded—he was very sensitive about any perceived threats to his leadership of the team—but the others murmured their assent.

“Good,”I said, before Sanjiv could protest. “Mr. Gordon, what did you say we were working on today? Algebraic equations?”

“That’s right,”Mr. Gordon said. “Who’s ready for the first question?”

Chapter 13

After I finished up my latest e-mail to Henry—the subject of which was the Top Three Favorite Movies (Henry’s were
Spider-man 2
and the first and third of the
Lord of the Rings
trilogy; mine were
Say Anything
,
Sixteen Candles
, and
Pretty in Pink
)—I curled were
Say Anything, Sixteen Candles
, and
Pretty in Pink
)—I curled up on the low platform bed with
Tender Is the Night.
I’d liked the book at first, but it had fizzled out in the middle and was now limping to its conclusion. It was taking all of my willpower to keep reading on instead of just skimming through the last few chapters. I sighed and rubbed my eyes to stay awake, deciding that if I got through one more chapter, I’d reward myself by carving out an hour to work on my latest short story. Suddenly, the door swung open with a bang, and Hannah wandered in.

“Hey,”Hannah said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?”

I looked up from my book. “I’m teaching myself how to move objects with my mind.”

Hannah wrinkled her lovely nose. “Really?”she asked.

“No, not really. I’m reading a book,”I said, waving the paperback at her.

“Is it any good?”Hannah asked.

I shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s about this guy who marries a woman who’s mentally ill.”

“Oh,”Hannah said, quickly losing interest, as she did whenever the topic of academics came up. “What are you wearing tonight?”

Now it was my turn to be confused. “What? Where?”

Hannah rolled her eyes heavenward. “My party. Did you forget?”

I hadn’t forgotten. Even if I’d wanted to—which I did, sort of—it would have been impossible. For the past two weeks, Hannah and Peyton had talked of little else. As far as they were concerned, Hannah’s sweet-sixteen birthday bash would be the social event of the year among the Orange Cove teen set. Peyton had hammered out most of the details while Hannah was visiting her dad and stepmom in Manhattan.

“You are coming, aren’t you?”Hannah persisted.

I nodded without enthusiasm. Hannah’s friends were all selfish, materialistic airheads. I wasn’t exactly thrilled at having to spend an evening with them.

“Good,”Hannah said. “Now. What are you wearing?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it. Are we supposed to dress up?”I asked.

Hannah looked at me, her face blank with horror. “Ye-ah,”she said, drawing the word into two scathing syllables. “How could you not know that?”

“Sorry,”I said, shrugging. Which was a lie—honestly, I couldn’t care less—but I didn’t want to get in an argument over it, either. “I guess, I’ll wear . . . um, maybe a skirt and sweater?”

“No,”Hannah said firmly. She stood and marched over to the closet, swung open the doors, and began rifling through my clothes, whipping the hangers aside. Aghast, she turned to stare at me. “Are these really the only clothes you own?”

“Basically. There are some T-shirts and things in the dresser drawer,”I said helpfully, gesturing toward the low white modern dresser that sat under the windows.

“But . . . it’s just jeans and khakis,”Hannah said desperately, turning back to the closet. She shook her head in horror. “How can you live like this?”

“Somehow I manage,”I said dryly.

“Wait, what’s this?”Hannah asked, pouncing on the garment bag at the back of the closet. She unzipped it and pulled out the pretty rose beaded silk slip dress I’d worn to Henry’s house on New Year’s Eve. Hannah gasped. “Oh, this is gorgeous! You have to wear this!”

“Okay,”I said. It seemed a little over the top for a birthday party, but then, what did I know? There were preschoolers out there who had better fashion sense than I did.

“Do you want me to do your hair for you again?”Hannah offered.

“Why?”I asked, suddenly suspicious.

“I just thought you might want to look nice tonight. Really nice,”Hannah said, twisting a lock of golden blond hair around her finger, the way she always did when she was nervous.

“And again, I ask: Why?”I said.

Hannah sighed. “I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want you to get all freaked out about it. . . . The thing is . . . Dex is going to be there,”she said.

My mouth fell open and my stomach suddenly felt like it had dropped out of my body. Hannah had invited
Dex
? Dex, who’d kissed me, pretended to like me, and then never bothered to call or write me afterward? Which would mean . . . oh, no.
Oh, no no no no no
. Which would mean I’d have to see him. It was what I’d been most dreading since I got back from London.

“Why do you hate me?”I asked, when I’d finally regained the capacity for speech.

“I don’t hate you,”Hannah said, crossing her arms and frowning at me. “I’m doing this for you.”

“For me?”I repeated.

“To help you,”she explained.

“To help me?”

“Why do you keep repeating everything I say?”Hannah asked.

“Because, Hannah, I don’t
want
to see Dex. He pretended to like me and then he blew me off. Seeing him now would be
humiliating
.”

How can she not understand this?
I wondered wildly.
How?

“I don’t think so,”Hannah said. She crossed the room and sat back on the bed. “You said that he dumped you for some other girl, right?”

This was a fun conversation.

“Yes,”I said. I blew out an exasperated puff of air.

“Well. I asked around at school, and no one’s heard anything about this chick he’s supposedly dating,”Hannah said.

“So?”

“So I don’t think he’s seeing anyone. If he was, word would have gotten around,”Hannah said.

“Maybe he hasn’t told anyone.”

“I doubt that. Why would he keep it a secret?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t relish the idea of everyone gossiping about him. Or maybe . . .
maybe
”—my brain spun off into a whirl of speculation—“it’s the ex-girlfriend of one of his friends, and he doesn’t want his friend to know. Or maybe her parents are super-religious and don’t allow her to date, so they have to keep it a secret.”

Hannah snorted. “I seriously doubt that.”

“Look, I really,
really
don’t want to talk about this,”I said.

I was seriously not enjoying these speculations about Dex and his new girlfriend. My stomach had a pinched, sour feeling, and my lungs felt like they’d shriveled up so I couldn’t take in a deep breath. It wasn’t helping that Hannah was looking skeptical, as though the idea of anyone carrying on a relationship at Orange Cove High without her knowledge was unimaginable.

“Okay, whatever,”Hannah said, raising her eyebrows. “But I still think you should wear that dress. It’s killer.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Wear the dress? Wait . . . you don’t think I’m still going to this party, do you?”

“Of course you’re going! You have to! It’s my birthday party!”Hannah exclaimed.

“Hannah, I can’t! Not if Dex is going to be there!”

“But why?”Hannah looked truly confused.

I shook my head in disbelief. “Because, it would be
embarrassing
,”I hissed. “What if he’s there with
her
?”

Hannah shrugged this off. “He’s not bringing her. He would have told me.”

“But since you don’t know who she is, you could already have invited her,”I pointed out.

Hannah hadn’t thought of this, and she paused, chewing her lower lip. “Maybe . . . but I doubt it. Besides, even if she is there, that’s even more reason for you to show up looking drop-dead gorgeous. That’s every girl’s fantasy—to see her ex-boyfriend when she looks amazing.”

“It is?”I asked.

“Yes,”she said. “Well, that and marrying the Prince of England.”

“Which one?”I asked.

Hannah rolled her eyes at my stupidity. “William, of course. He’s the one who’s going to be king, after all.”

I used to think that William was the cuter of the two princes. Then I fell for Dex and gained a new appreciation for redheads. Which didn’t change the fact that this was perhaps the dumbest conversation I’d ever had. Including the time I once spent two hours listening to Charlie and Finn debate whether Snickers were superior to Milky Way bars.

“Anyway,”Hannah continued, “what you have to do is show up at the party looking hotter than hot, and Dex will see you, and . . .
voilà
!”She waved one hand in a flourish.

“
Voilà
?”I repeated. “
Voilà
what?”

“And,
voilà
, he’ll feel like crap for not calling you. Or e-mailing you. Whatever. Anyway, he’ll totally regret it. Isn’t that the whole point?”

“The whole point is to make Dex feel like crap?”I repeated.

Hannah smiled knowingly. “Yes. It is,”she said.

As much as I liked the idea of Dex taking one look at me and being overcome with pangs of regret and longing, I could spot two major problems with this plan.

“First of all, I’m not you,”I said bluntly.

“What do you mean?”

I sighed. “Hannah, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re gorgeous. I’m not.”