Page 92 of Talk Nerdy To Me
Chapter 27
BRITT
“So you really teach classes on this?” Base’s Mom asks me as the guys argue about something outside.
She hands back my phone as I shake my head. “Informative seminars at the clinic. I don’t have the certification to teach actual classes.”
“And you’re legit documenting your struggle to lose your virginity. And you have a lot of people following the scoop,” Krysta goes on, brow furrowed as she reads from her own phone.
“I leave out details, but still mention the challenging world of navigation. I considered random stranger sex, but then read the statistics on the danger incurred with that. I decided against it, despite how well/complicated it worked out with some other members from my family.”
“This isn’t just about sex. You have an entire life plan in writing,” Krysta goes on, groaning a little. “I haven’t even decided on a major.”
“Harley has helped me out with that,” I go on as commotion stirs inside the garage next to us. The guys have been outside a while.
“Seems you have a rather large support system,” Base’s mother tells me.
Before I can answer, Base pokes his head in the door, narrowing his eyes at his mother.
“All good in here?”
“Anyone been irrevocably offended by my bad manners since earlier?” she asks us.
Krysta opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but gets cut off by Base’s mother.
“When you boys finish your chores, perhaps you’d like to join the adults for conversation.”
Base just gives her a bored look as he backs out and shuts the door.
“I’ve recently given myself a new nickname, and I want you girls to be the first to try it out for me,” Base’s mother says as she pours us another round of tea.
When Krysta nods, I do the same.
This is a social first for me. I didn’t realize people gave themselves nicknames.
“Honey Bee,” she says, grinning like she’s brilliant. “I’m tired of my vibrator, and I need a name that sounds sweet so I can lure in the bears.”
“What about just Honey?” Krysta suggests.
“Too much like a stripper and not a hot, pre-grandma woman in her prime,” she says as she adjusts her bra. “Base is all grown up, and it’s finally safe for me to date again—and has been for a while. I need to quit dallying before everything finishes its gravitational rotation,” she adds as she finishes some minor adjustments to ensure her breasts are sufficiently perky.
“I pick the losers, so that’s why I stayed single. I realize you can marry with a kid, but why risk screwing him up twice as much?” she goes on. “I’ve got shit taste in men.”
I don’t think Base is really screwed up. Is he?
“So what is he trying to save you from, Britt Sterling?” she asks when we don’t speak.
Seems random, even to me.
A little surprised, I sit back. “This is my confused expression. I’m not constipated,” I tell her so that she’s not stuck in that horrible paradox.
I wish she’d repay the courtesy and explain her expression.
“Base only brings home the ones he wants to save, sweetie. They tried to name their band Bastards of the Fallen for a reason. I vetoed the first half because they were in eighth grade. So what’s your story?”
“Why do people do that to you?” Krysta asks, drawing both our attention as she focuses on me. “They do it to me too.”
“I’m asking her story because she’s with my son. But people genuinely want to know about the rich. The popular. The pretty. They want your dark secrets so they can feel like you’re no better than them; you just got luckier.”
