Page 1 of Beauty and the Nerd
Prologue
“Hey there. You’re Ben, right?” Emma said with a smile as his head whipped up, his brow lifting in surprise seeing the paper in her hands as he pushed his glasses up his nose a bit more after they’d slipped. “They tell me I’m with you for AP English Lit.”
“I’m the guy for that, yeah,” he said as she slid the chair next to him out from the table and settled onto it. He studied her intently before quietly asking, “What are you doing here, Emma? You need help with English Lit about as much as I do.”
Emma couldn’t help but give him the same grin he’d learnt well this summer. It’d been incredible getting to know him, having him get to know her. The real her and not just focus on what she looked like as most of their class did. “Well, maybe I’ve missed the amazing friend I found in New York this summer and wanted to spend time with him. He’s kind of a busy guy though, and everyone knows that I’m hopeless when it comes to school, being a dumb cheerleader and all.”
Ben pushed his hair back from his eyes as it flopped over in his face. He might not be as muscular as the guys she’d dated the last few years, dressed far geekier than them, and wore glasses, but he wasn’t without looks. Well, he wouldn’t be without them if it weren’t for the way he wore his hair. It was shaggy all over,an untidy mess of multiple layers weighing it down, the length hitting his collar and falling over his ears in disarray, and her fingers itched to take a pair of scissors to it. Let a good cut reveal the masculine lines that were beginning to appear on his face, pushing aside the boyishness, hinting at the man he was quickly turning into, with that length not falling in it any longer.
She could see a hint of shadow on his upper lip and chin, and her mind slipped back to this summer, watching him shave. It was the first time she’d seen him without his glasses, and it’d made a big impression on her. His hair was still wet, combed back from his face showing it off entirely, while he got ready for their early lecture. That was when she’d first realized what was happening to her, could feel her pulse start to pick up, and it’d shocked her to know she was attracted to him physically as well as intellectually.
He gave her a slightly annoyed look pulling her from her musings which was good considering where they were as he asked, “When did I ever call you dumb?”
“You withheld from it, but I could see the surprise on your face when we saw each other on campus.” Emma didn’t care in the least about if he had at the moment. If he’d thought that she was there simply for something related to the sport perhaps instead of there for the summer program. He knew her well enough now to know the truth, and she didn’t care what others here thought of her academic profile. “So how about it, you get a little free time where we can crank out homework together and you get to hang out with me.”
“Except it won’t take long for everyone in here to know that you don’t really need the help, Em,” he warned.
“Leave that one to me.” She sent him a wink that made a smile tug at his lips before spreading their books open on the table. She gave it about ten minutes before she turned the musicon her phone on and shook her head slightly when he reached to turn it off, “Just wait for it.”
“Miss Watkins, there’s no music allowed in here,” Mrs. Johnson said coming over as several heads turned to stare at them.
“I can’t study in silence, Mrs. Johnson. It’s way too quiet in here for me to be able to recall any of this and I have to pass this class if I want to get into a decent college,” Emma said, giving the woman a darling look that had most of the teachers fooled while Ben controlled the need to laugh.
“Be that as it may, there are rules for the tutor center. If you want to use it you have to follow them,” Mrs. Johnson warned.
“Is there a way for us to use a different room or something where I can play my music? I have a specialized education plan on file with the office that permits me to use music for tests, study hall, and such,” Emma added, surprising him entirely with the news.
“Let me check,” Mrs. Johnson said moving back to the desk and Ben lifted a brow at her.
“Are you crazy, lying to her is going to get you kicked out of here,” he stated, watching the center’s sponsor check the file.
“It’s not a lie. I really do have it on file, and it really is legit,” Emma returned, as the woman came back towards them.
“Alright, you can use a separate room for your work; same rules apply other than permitting the music, Ben. You have to stop in here first and any time past five is on your own, you won’t earn credit for it,” Mrs. Johnson said, and he nodded in understanding before gathering his things leading Emma out of the room.
“What was that about?” he asked settling them into the drama room’s beanbag chair. It was enormous, made for at least three people, but he wanted her next to him, and this would be an excellent way to make that possible.
“The plan? I get really bad anxiety attacks if I’m forced to work or take a test in silence. I start freaking myself out and end up freezing. I guess that’s why everyone thought I was such a bad student. It wasn’t until we were in eighth grade that they figured out that the quiet was actually the problem. Why I’d fail a test taken with the whole class but be able to get a decent grade on it if I were doing a make-up while others were talking and laughing or learning about something different. That I wasn’t purposely missing the tests just because I hadn’t studied but then did right before the make-up one,” she said recalling how often she’d been sent to the office for it, the calls home it resulted in which finally had her admitting what happened to her when they took tests. Her dad worked in pharmaceuticals and knew the symptoms of panic attacks, and she’d gone to a therapist who’d referred her to an audiologist and neurologist to rule out hearing loss or damage that was throwing off her equilibrium and to confirm she didn’t have any undiagnosed head trauma from her cheerleading.
“They called it some fancy name that just means I have sensory issues. While some people need silence, can’t function without it, I can’t function without at least white noise surrounding me. I took a practice run on the ACT my freshman year without using the specialized plan and it was awful. I swore the walls were caving in on me because everyone was so focused on their tests during the reading portion. The math I didn’t do as horrible on because people had calculators, were shuffling between their scrap paper and tests, but when it was quiet, I couldn’t finish three-fourths of the test and had a panic attack.”
She turned a bit, letting him see her as they talked. Then slid her legs over his and grinned when his hand slid up to rest on her hip flooding him with relief that she wasn’t pulling away from his touch. It was still mostly along the friendship line they forged in New York this summer and if that was all he couldget, he’d take it. Even if he was dying a bit inside, wanting more, especially for everyone to see the girl he met this summer because she was more amazing than the popular version of Emma that their school knew.
“I’m constantly amazed by you, constantly,” he said, meeting her gaze knowing she hid her brilliance far beneath her looks and personality. “I take it that you haven’t given any thought to showing your friends what you’re really made of then?”
“You know it’s more complicated than that, Ben. I don’t know if I can handle being on the outside if they didn’t accept me, especially not if they found out about my story.” Emma knew he meant well by it all, but it was still risky. The other girls on the squad would savage her if they knew what she really thought of them—how she’d written them in the story she handed in for her writing course she’d taken this past summer. She’d seen them do it to too many others to risk that when they only had one year left here.
She could put up with the stupid crap for one more year rather than risk social suicide admitting that they were all spineless followers—herself included in prior years. It was somewhat different now though, she was on top of the social hierarchy at school. She could attempt to keep the others from doing nasty things to those they deemed less worthy, but she couldn’t control all of them or control them all of the time.
It wasn’t until Christmas break last year that she got a good look at herself while out with their group at the mall. A somewhat dorky freshman girl was in one of their favorite stores, trying on a dress, and their group, beyond her and Megan at least, started mocking her. Annie was so upset she left the store without a thing, even the dress she’d looked amazing in.
Something had hit her hard in the gut at the way Annie’s shoulders slumped as she ran away. Later that afternoon whenthe others were going to see a new movie, she went back to the store and bought the dress.
They didn’t know where she’d gone and texted her, asking her about it, as she was on her way home. She didn’t want to deal with them and simply responded that she was with one of the boys that had been asking her out recently, so they’d leave her alone.
Annie lived a few houses away from her and she parked her car in the garage, went up to her room, grabbing her makeup bag, and headed over to her house. She was glad she had when she found the bottle of pills still in the girl’s hand when she opened the door.
Emma hadn’t told any of them, not even Megan, about that, or the reason they hadn’t seen Annie for the first month of the new semester was because she was getting treatment for depression. She knew and it’d made her take a hard look around herself, not liking what she saw. Since then, she’d refused to participate in any of the snarkier conversations about people they didn’t know—did her best to shut down the worst of it, redirect them if it was happening, especially if in front of the person.
