His Nerd

Ava

Crying in my room was not what I had planned for my weekend. I didn’t even know that guy, and yet I know Jessica.

I'm willing to bet that Jessica concocted the whole library incident because she was angry that Hunter was seeing someone else. And as usual, I was an easy target.

The Queen Bitch at our school wants Hunter more than anything else. Since she’s the only girl he’s slept with more than once, it’s like he’s some sort of trophy to her. She thinks they’re a couple, that she’s special in his eyes, and she won’t hear anything else. With the number of arguments they’ve had in the canteen, you’d think it was a theater and Jessica the diva on stage.

Right now, I’m sitting on my bed in my fluffy PJs, trying to keep warm and cozy. I’m surrounded by tissues and popsicle sticks, my nose is all red, and my face is blotchy from crying. What a mess.

After that incident at school, I told the nurse I wasn’t feeling well, and she sent me home. I left as quickly as I could and ran all the way home—normally a twenty-minute walk.

My life sucks. I barely have friends, apart from Lily, and I can’t go anywhere without being bullied. I’m just glad my mum isn’t here to see me like this; she doesn’t need anything else on her plate with all the shifts she is taking at the hospital.

To take my mind off everything, I’m watching The Notebook. It’s such a sad film, but it’s so romantic and beautiful. I just wish that my life was that simple, that I had someone like that who truly cared about me.

I wipe my eyes again as more tears leak down my face. I’m such an idiot. For someone so smart, I am clearly very stupid when it comes to boys. I’ve never even been interested in the boys at my school, but it hurts knowing what they really think of me.

I reach for another popsicle, but I’ve eaten them all, so I slam my face into my pillow instead. Stupid emotions and stupid boys.

I have been teased before, don’t get me wrong, but never has anyone done something like this to me—toying with my emotions just for a prank. It makes me sick that people care so little about me that they go out of their way just to hurt me.

When the film comes to an end, I grab my phone and check Facebook, almost dropping it when I see what’s on the site: a video of me that some idiot took of everything that happened in the library. I look at who uploaded the video—Jessica, of course. Not bothering to watch the video since I was there when it happened, I scroll down and look at the comments.

More tears run down my face as I read them.

Ew, who even is that?

What a tramp

I thought she was meant to be smart

The tears keep running down my face. I’ve never been hurt like this before; usually the pranks just happen at school. They aren’t posted online for everyone to see.

I think back to me running out of the library. By that time, the halls were already filled with students. I hadn’t even noticed I had been followed until that boy came out after me, holding up Jessica’s phone with the video on it for the whole world to see.

I was mortified. If I had stayed for the rest of the day, I would have been laughed at and teased for something I was dragged into.

To be honest with you, I don’t know why Jessica hates me. Maybe it’s because I actually care about my grades and what university I get into, or maybe it’s because I don’t care about what I look like and what fashion is in and what’s not. To me, there are more important things to be concerned with, and maybe that’s why Jessica’s taking the bullying up a notch in our final year.

I know that when I go to school on Monday, I will no longer be invisible. I won’t be able to hide or walk away or blend into the background like a chameleon. No, I will be put into the spotlight, and that’s something I can’t handle.

I have terrible stage fright, mostly because all the attention I get is bad. And any attention taken away from Jessica seems to really upset her.

Worst of all, because the attention is for something embarrassing, the rest of the year will be filled with teasing and even more pranks. I don’t think I can deal with that; I can barely deal with it now.

I shake these thoughts away so I can put on another sad, romantic film, but then I hear the doorbell ring. My heartbeat seems to stop—who could be at my house at 9 p.m.?

I know that doesn’t sound late, but I’m a nerd. The only friend I have is Lily, and if she was coming over, she would have texted me first, and she wouldn’t bother ringing the doorbell; she would just have walked in. It couldn’t be my mother either because she has a key.

Maybe it’s a burglar or a hit man. Yes, I really just thought that.

But who would put out a hit on me? I’m worthless, remember; no one but my mum and Lily cares about me.

I jump from my bed like I have been bitten and then creep downstairs, grabbing the first thing I can find to protect myself. It’s a book, of course—and a heavy one at that.

The doorbell rings again, and I think maybe it is just my mum. ~Maybe she’s just lost her keys.~ But she never finishes this early.

Standing in front of the door, I can see a tall, looming shadow as light shines through the glass panels on the right side of the door. My heart rate picks up, and my whole body is shaking with fear.

While slowly unlocking the door, I raise the book, ready to strike the stranger. But when I pull it open, I come face-to-face with Hunter Black.

He smiles warmly at me, which is odd because I only ever see him smirking, but then I slam the door in his face.

What the hell is he doing here? It’s probably another prank.

Hunter bangs his fist against the door, which sends a vibration throughout the house.

“Ava, just let me in. I only want to talk.”

Oh my gosh! Hunter Black knows my name! I fangirl in my head.

I stand there with my back against the door and wait to see if he says anything else.

He doesn’t. I hear him sigh and walk away from the door.

Maybe I should just listen to what he has to say. Today can’t get any worse, can it? I mean it’s only Hunter freaking Black!

I turn around slowly so I am facing the door, and then I open it slightly so I can peek out. I see Hunter walking back to his car, which is parked on the side of the road.

“Hunter?” I call out. My voice is so timid and shaky it sounds like a question, and I wonder if he heard me.

He turns, which answers that question. I can’t believe it really is Hunter Black.

I reach for the porch light, and as it flickers on, I see him squint. Then his dazzling eyes lock with my own dull-blue ones.

Hunter walks up the steps until he’s standing right there. He’s a whole foot taller than me, and looking up at him strains my neck.

It’s weird that he’s here. I know that, don’t I?

Looking into the deep green of Hunter’s eyes makes me feel lost. His height towering over me makes me feel so puny and unimportant. Stupid genes making me small—what did I do to deserve this?

He’s giving that famous smirk of his, and I feel my breath hitch in my throat. He is gorgeous; no wonder he gets so much attention.

Even at school I knew he was good-looking, but now that I can see him up close, I can really appreciate what I’m looking at.

I blush as I realize that I’m staring at him. I don’t want to get caught, so I look down, but then I’m horrified by what I’m wearing.

When I look at him again, Hunter deliberately checks me out and raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me.

I glare at him, which only causes him to smirk. I feel awkward as Hunter continues to stare at me on the porch.

I mentally smack myself, remembering this is my house and I should probably invite him in. So, I smile and open my mouth, but no words come out. Hunter raises his eyebrow again.

I don’t understand why I’m so nervous. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a guy in my house before, or maybe it’s because it’s Hunter Black, one of my bullies. Inviting him in seems wrong, but then again, I don’t want to seem rude.

I want to be the bigger person, showing that I don’t care about the past. That I can look past his mistakes and eventually forgive him. I can’t hold a grudge anyway, unless it’s against Jessica.

Clearing my throat, I manage to string some words together. “Hunter, would you like to come in?” My voice sounds foreign, like it’s not really me talking.

Hunter smirks at my poor effort to actually speak to him, but I glare at him until he replies.

“That would be very kind of you.” He doesn’t break eye contact with me as he says this, but his voice holds no emotion either, as if he couldn’t care less whether he came in or not.

Sighing, I step back, bringing the door with me, so Hunter has enough room to step in.

“You know, most girls would die if I was in their house.” He spoke this as a fact, as if I should be falling at his feet and worshiping the ground that he walks on.

I feel my blood boil. I can’t believe the nerve of this guy, telling me I should be grateful that he’s in my house.

Slamming the door, I utter words at him with such venom I’m surprised he doesn’t flinch. “Well, I’m not most girls.”

Hunter looks rather amused, which only makes my anger grow.