The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth - Alexandra Robbins [138]
“I guess I’ve been comparison shopping lately, trying to find people that don’t bog me down, people that help me up in life. Compared to my old friends, well, you’re just light years ahead of them. And I just . . . I feel happiest when I’m with you.”
Following more silence, Blue looked at his watch discreetly. Michael’s curfew loomed. Blue sighed audibly, then said, “You know, you probably don’t want to leave until you kiss me, but you aren’t doing anything because you know it would be awkward with my hat on. Am I right?”
Michael leaned in. They tilted the same way. Blue corrected his angle. The bill of his baseball cap bopped Michael on the forehead.
“Oh, damn this,” Michael said, and took off Blue’s hat. Blue’s first-ever kiss gave him butterflies. He felt like he was smiling the whole way through.
When Michael left to go home, Blue decided to conduct a self-test. He hadn’t played MW2 in months, but he knew he was still good at it. Was he too disoriented to play well? “If I really liked him, I’d play shitty,” Blue later explained. “And alas, I played shitty.”
WHITNEY, NEW YORK | THE POPULAR BITCH
In Spanish, rather than chatting exclusively with Chelsea, Whitney talked to Shay. Shay was generous and affable; when Whitney was sick, she offered to lend her movies and books. Within days, they were having extended, open conversations. Whitney also decided to be friendly to Irene once she realized she alienated her only because the preps did. She didn’t have anything against her personally.
Whitney even tried to be nice to Elizabeth, a wannabe who disliked her. In advertising, she struck up a conversation. “Hey, Elizabeth, where are you going to college?” Whitney asked. Elizabeth looked up, startled, and answered.
“What are you going to major in?” Whitney asked.
“I want to do sociology or advertising, but my mom wants me to do education,” Elizabeth said.
“It’s your life, so you should do what you want, not what your mom wants,” Whitney said. “I took a sociology class junior year. I think you’d really like it.”
As Whitney walked through the halls now, instead of strutting with her nose in the air, she greeted anyone who made eye contact with her. She also made a concerted effort to stop gossiping—or, at least, to cut back.
At the end of speech class one day, the teacher announced that the class had to go to a speaking event. When the bell rang, stuck behind a group of slow-moving students, Whitney climbed over a desk and headed for the door. When she saw Fern trying to reach her, Whitney turned around and maneuvered against the traffic.
“Can you let me know when you’re going and maybe give me a ride?” Fern asked, her head down and her voice barely audible.
Whitney was gratified. For Fern to come up to her in public surely was a sign that she was becoming more approachable, not a traditional prep hallmark. “Yeah, sure!” Whitney said, in a perky voice that annoyed even herself as she used it.
“Thank you,” Fern whispered.
During her free period, Whitney was in the mostly empty library with Giselle and Steph, watching Bianca rush to finish a major economics project due the following class period. By now, the prep clique had begun to splinter: Bianca, Madison, Chelsea, and Kendra were the senior preps, while Whitney and Steph had become more independent. Giselle fluctuated between Whitney and the preps.
Whitney, Steph, and Giselle lounged on the couch, watching as Bianca typed frantically on a computer and bossed Chelsea around. “Chelsea, fix the printer!” she said, and Chelsea rushed to do it. “Chelsea, run and get me a glue stick!”—and Chelsea was off, sprinting