Page 16 of Cocky Nerd
Olivia
I’ve never been adept at lying. When my mother asked me point blank if I was sexually active when I was sixteen, I told her that I was, and that since she’d asked, I’d like to go on birth control pills, because all the ballerinas I knew said to use at least two forms of birth control at all times. I did and do want to have a family one day, but for a ballet dancer, getting pregnant at the wrong time is usually career-ending. My mother agreed, as long as I didn’t tell my father about my sex life. I wouldn’t have been able to lie to him if he’d asked—fortunately we’re from the Midwest, so it will probably never comeup.
So, when Callie asked what was up with John Brandt, what I told her was mostly true: that I’ve known Johnny my whole life because he’s my brother’s best friend, that we hadn’t seen each other in a few years and he just showed up at my restaurant and asked me out. Which is essentially all there is to it. Maybe he was right—by the time we get to Cleveland it might feel real. Or by then he may have driven me so batshit crazy that I won’t know the difference between fantasy andreality.
When pressed further, I told her about all the time he’d spent at my house when I was a kid, because his parents are workaholics who were almost never home. He slept over on weekends more often than not. We celebrated his birthday when Nathan had his parties because John’s parents were always too busy to throw their son a party of his own, though John never complained about them. Once, he got the flu and when my Mom found out he was home alone, she went to pick him up and brought him to our place and made himsoup.
By that point, Callie’s hands were covering her heart. I didn’t want her to get attached to the idea of him, so I got into the other stuff. When he and my brother turned thirteen, they spent most of the time in the basement, but we only had one TV in the house, so there were a lot of arguments and subsequent retaliatory high jinks related to what to watch. I told her about the time he tried to explain the mathematics of classical music to me, and I explained how much I hated his inability to experience music viscerally by pouring a can of root beer on his head. I was grounded for a week but it was worth it, shutting himup.
“Gosh, O, the way you talk about him it sounds like you barely even likedhim.”
“No, I did. I liked him. I do. I mean, he was an acquired taste, and I acquired it. Eventually. He was always very neat and tidy when he shared our bathroom. And he helped me with my math homework most of the time without my even asking.”He didn’t help me so much as he’d see me struggling with it and just do my homework for me while barking out basic mathematical rules that he could not believe I didn’tcomprehend.
“He’s just a nerd, you know. But he’schanged.”
“Uh, yeah. He’s an acquired taste who’s acquired hundreds of millions ofdollars.”
“Are you Googling him? Don’t Googlehim!”
“Why not? He’s highly Googleable. No way—he founded Brainy Biz? My cousin used that to get funding for this app he developed. I knew I recognized his name. He’s a big deal! Why aren’t you moreexcited?”
“I am, I’m just, it’s still so new. He’s so different from the guys I usuallydate.”
“Yeah, he’s not a cockyshithead.”
“He’s cocky in his ownway.”
“What, you think he’s not good enough for you just because he’s not an artist? Give me abreak.”
I got a text from John, reminding me to get to a passport photo place before they closed, so I didn’t see Callie for the rest of theday.
This morning,she’s back to Googling him while I stretch on the floor and eattoast.
“It’s not like you’re the first beauty to date a nerd, youknow.”
“Not counting John Hughesmovies?”
“Hello—Miranda Kerr married that guy who co-foundedSnapchat.”
“Who’s MirandaKerr?”
“The Victoria’s Secret model. She has a line of organic beauty products? She’s one of the richest supermodels in the world. She was married to OrlandoBloom?”
“Who?”
“Oh my God. Who’s thenerd?”
“I’m not a nerd. I’m just too busy to read Peoplemagazine.”
“I don’t read People magazine, this is stuff that people know just from being alive and having an internetconnection.”
She types in something onto her laptop and stares at the screen. “Uhhhh…”
“What?”
“Your new boyfriendhasdated a supermodel. Did you not knowthis?”
“No.”I haven’t Googled him yet.“We don’t talk about our pastrelationships.”
