Page 7 of Talk Nerdy To Me
From my peripheral, I can see him lift his eyes and start staring at me as I drive, even as I try to process what any of that is supposed to mean.
I decide he’s just stating something rhetorical and doesn’t need any rhetorical follow-up comments on the matter.
“Did you even listen to the set?” he asks when I stay quiet.
Should I tell him the music is too loud?
Probably not. I’m sure someone would probably tell me that’s rude.
“It sounded well.”
I hope they did well. People seemed to be enjoying themselves, so I assume they were either too intoxicated to know better, or they genuinely enjoyed the band. Since it was under twenty-one night, you’d think the crowd would be sober. I don’t particularly think they were.
“We did well?” he asks like he can’t believe I just used that word.
“You did... bad?” I ask, confused. Are musicians among the culture that uses bad as good?
“You didn’t even listen to us, did you? How is that even possible?” he groans, but a smile plays on his lips. “You’re so—”
“Weird,” I say simply, filling in his void for the right word. “I know.”
“I was going to say interesting. Not weird.”
I glance over to see his very distracting smile. He needs to put that thing away. I might be different, but I’m still a girl with regular hormones and completely unsated needs, an inconveniently curious nature, and all thanks to my infuriating blockade called a hymen that particularly terrifies most men, I’m still a virgin.
“I think we’re here,” I say when I see a large house with lights glaring from every window.
A large group of people are hanging out on the raised side-deck beside the oceanfront pool. The girls have stripped down to their underwear, and they’re diving into said pool. It actually looks a little fun.
Dane and his friends do stuff like this all the time, but I always feel like a tagalong because of the ever-expanding legion of couples. I usually just observe their interactions, wondering how people get that comfortable with such ease.
If I spontaneously stripped down to my underwear at one of their parties, five Sterlings would immediately be throwing blankets at me and yelling for me to cover up.
They do the same when I wear a bikini with no cover-up.
“You want to stay and party with us?” Base asks, drawing my attention back to him as he puts his hand on the door to get out.
“Um...no. It’s fine.”
I appreciate the polite gesture, but I’d stick out terribly in a setting where I know no one who could serve as a buffer.
“Have you got something pressing you have to do tomorrow morning? And by tomorrow morning, I mean when the sun rises in a few hours,” he says, while I continue to stare ahead at all the fun.
“Nothing so early.”
I smile when I see one of the guys scooping a girl over his shoulder and tossing her into the water.
“Then come on. We don’t bite.” He pauses. “On second thought, there has been some biting in the past. Regardless, it’ll be fun,” he says, teasing me. I think he’s teasing, anyway.
I’m certainly not opposed to the prospect of fun, but I’m not fond of being bitten.
“Are you sure? You realize I’m not exactly the type of person people invite to a party,” I state for clarification.
Anyone who knows the Sterlings are fully aware of my limited social graces. Though, I have improved a lot.
He frowns. I’m not sure if that’s confusion or constipation—really, though, too many expressions resemble constipation. There should be a handbook.
“Then you should start coming to the parties you are invited to,” he says, letting his expression change again as that smile he wears so well spreads across his lips.
