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Authors: Piper Banks

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BOOK: Geek Abroad
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With her petite, perfect features and long, shiny blond hair, Hannah could be a teen model. I, on the other hand, was tall and gawky and possessed frizzy hair and a too-big nose.

Hannah looked me over, considering. “You’d be a lot cuter if you made more of an effort,”she said. “You know, with your hair and makeup.”

“Yeah, well,”I said, dismissing this with a shrug. I didn’t want Hannah to launch into makeover mode. “And second, I don’t want Dex to feel like crap.”

“You don’t?”Hannah asked, her eyes wide.

“No,”I said. “I like Dex. It makes me sad that he doesn’t like me. . . . But that doesn’t mean I want him to be unhappy.”

Hannah shook her head in disbelief. At first I thought she was impressed at how mature I was being. This illusion was quickly shattered when she spoke.

“No way,”she said. “I know you’re, like, supposed to be a genius or something, and that you go to an ‘alternative’school and all.”She made bunny ears with her fingers when she said
alternative
. “But not even you could be this weird.”

“Gee, thanks,”I said.

“Trust me, Miranda, I know about relationships. Everyone wants their ex to pine away for them. Everyone. It’s a universal truth. It’s like . . . like . . .”She struggled for an appropriate simile. “Like
gravity
.”

Hannah was so sure of herself, so sure that she was right, I couldn’t help but wonder...could she be?
Would
it make me happy if when Dex saw me he was overcome with misery and regret?

I was more than a little disturbed to realize that I didn’t hate the idea.

“Told you so,”Hannah said smugly, as she accurately read my expression of shock and self-disgust. “Now, come on. I’ll help you get ready.”

I couldn’t remember being more nervous in my life than I was when we arrived at the Canyon. Sitting in the backseat of Peyton’s huge SUV, I smoothed down the beaded slip dress, hoping I looked okay. Hannah—who had blow-dried my naturally frizzy hair into sleek waves and lacquered my face with more makeup than a beauty pageant queen—had insisted I looked “adorable.”I wasn’t so sure . . . and I certainly wasn’t comfortable. The high-heeled sandals I’d borrowed from Hannah—her feet were two sizes smaller than mine, but she still insisted I cram myself into them—were already hurting my feet, and my lips felt tacky with lip gloss. Without thinking, I pursed them together.

“Don’t do that,”Hannah instructed me. “You’ll rub off the lip gloss.”

“It feels weird,”I complained.

“You’ll get used to it,”Hannah said with a shrug.

“Here we are,”Dad said, pulling into a parking spot just in front of the restaurant.

The Canyon was at the far end of a red brick L-shaped strip mall that also housed an orthodontist, an interior decorator, and a bakery. There was a covered walkway in front of the stores, as well as a row of palm trees planted in tall cobalt blue pots. Leafy green vines scaled up the outer columns of the walkway.

I’d expected Hannah to be nervous, too, but she seemed completely cool and collected as she unlatched her seat belt and slid gracefully out of the SUV. She looked even more beautiful than usual, in a strapless kelly green Lilly Pulitzer sundress. Her golden blond hair was piled on top of her head in a complicated updo, and her face shimmered with expertly applied makeup. Around her slender neck she wore the gold Tiffany bean necklace her dad and stepmom had given her for Christmas last year.

“Let’s get this party started,”Hannah said. She turned to look at me, still sitting in the SUV. “Are you stuck to the seat or something, Miranda?”

I was so nervous, I seemed to have frozen in place. I wondered distantly if I could just sit out the party here. It wasn’t like anyone would miss me—I hardly knew most of Hannah’s friends, and those that I did know I didn’t exactly love. But Hannah gave an impatient toss of her head and gestured to me.

“I’m coming,”I said.

Reluctantly, I opened my door and slid out. Dad and Peyton were already out, standing with Hannah. The three of them looked like the sort of beautiful, perfect family that photography studios use in their advertisements—Hannah, lovely and lithesome, Peyton and Dad beaming proudly down at her. I felt completely extraneous, a feeling that deepened as they headed toward the restaurant without a backward glance to see if I was following.

I hesitated for a moment—if I was going to bail out on this party, now was the time to do so. It was a tempting idea. There was a Starbucks just down the street. I could hide there, tossing back mocha lattes, and not have to worry about bumping into Dex and his new girlfriend. But . . . I couldn’t. Hannah would be disappointed, my dad would be upset, Peyton would . . . well, forget that, Peyton would probably be overjoyed if I missed the party. She probably counted any night she didn’t have to spend in my presence to be a good one.

I puffed out my cheeks and sighed, and then hurried after them. I caught up with them just as they were walking into the restaurant. Hannah went in first, and I could hear her friends applauding her arrival. Peyton, hanging on my dad’s arm and beaming at the guests, followed just behind Hannah. I brought up the rear, huffing with the effort of having jogged across the parking lot in the too-small heels.

The Canyon was decorated in a sleek industrial style, from the dark wenge bar to the steel tables covered with crisp white linens. Spare aluminum pendant lamps lit the room, and stark black-and-white photographs of the desert hung on the walls.

Hannah had timed her arrival perfectly to make a high-impact entrance. It looked like most of her guests were already in attendance, sipping fruity drinks and munching on appetizers being circulated by an attractive waitstaff outfitted in white T-shirts and black jeans. There were a ton of people there. I didn’t know most of them, although there were a few familiar faces. I assumed they’d been in attendance at Hannah’s impromptu kegger in November.

Tiffany and Brit—twins with high cheekbones and long braids—raced forward to greet Hannah, squealing with excitement. Hannah’s former best friend, Avery, a thin-faced girl with short, dark hair and narrow gold-flecked hazel eyes, was also there, but she hung back. She and Hannah had a falling-out a few months back when Hannah learned that Avery had stolen a sweater out of Peyton’s closet.

I was actually a little surprised to see that Avery was even at the party, and wondered if this meant that she and Hannah had made up. I hoped not—Avery was not my favorite person. Back when Avery and Hannah were still close, and spent every day after school hanging out at the beach house together along with the twins, Avery constantly pestered me to do her homework for her.

The twins swept Hannah away into the crowd of her friends, while Dad and Peyton moved off to circulate among the adults they’d invited. I saw Hannah’s boyfriend, Emmett, was there waiting for her. He greeted her with a bunch of sixteen red roses and a kiss that caused all of the girls to swoon and sigh. A few months ago, back when I was still infatuated with Emmett, this sight would have made my heart implode with jealousy, but now I barely registered it. I didn’t like Emmett anymore, at least not in that way. Now there was someone I was much, much more interested in seeing. . . .

With my heart beating wildly, I glanced around, trying to appear casual as I looked for Dex.

Just find him, say hello while staying cool and detached,
I told myself.
Yes, it will suck. Yes, it will be awkward. But you’ll get it over with, and you can move on with the rest of your life.

Spurred on by this silent pep talk, I redoubled my efforts, turning around in a slow circle. Dex was usually easy to spot, with his tall, lanky frame and flame-red hair. . . . But I didn’t see him anywhere.

I felt a rush of disappointment tinged with relief. Girlfriend or not, I had really wanted to see Dex. . . . And find out how he would react when he saw me. I knew it didn’t make any sense, that he didn’t like me the way I liked him. I guess it was the same as worrying at a canker sore. . . . Even though it hurts, you can’t leave it alone.

At least I don’t have to see him with Laughing Girl
, I thought.

The party was not fun. Or, I should say, it wasn’t fun for me. First of all, the too-small shoes were killing my feet. And since I didn’t know many of Hannah’s friends, I was pretty much the odd girl out, standing to the side watching everyone else talk and laugh and flirt. Unsurprisingly, while the parents stayed to one side of the room—sitting at the tables near the windows—the kids gravitated to the other side, mostly standing and milling around near the bar area, where the band was set up and playing. The twins’boyfriends—two interchangeable meatheads named Geoff and Roy—tried to order mixed drinks from the bartender, claiming they were getting them for their parents, but they were shot down, which was causing waves of hilarity among Hannah’s friends. The parents were either unaware of what was going on or were choosing to ignore it.

After we’d been there for about an hour, the waitstaff set up a buffet—enchiladas, fajitas, taquitos, bean salad, fresh tortillas. The guys swarmed the table as though they hadn’t eaten in a month, while the girls—all of them thin and gorgeous—hung back, making noises about how many calories everything had. It reminded me of what Sadie had said about how girls my age suffered from low self-esteem, and I decided that although she might be right, my low self-esteem wouldn’t keep me from eating. I was starving, and the food looked too good to pass up.

I sat down at one of the tables off to the side by myself, relieved to be off my aching feet, and dug into my plate of enchiladas and bean salad. Just as I’d taken a bite of the oozy, cheesy enchilada, I heard someone say, “Hi, Miranda.”

I looked up, mouth full, and nearly choked on a cheese string when I saw who was standing there.

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Dex
.

He looked . . . well, he looked
amazing
. The same pale blue eyes, the same long, straight nose, the same pale, freckled skin. He’d gotten a haircut since the last time I’d seen him, and was wearing his coppery red curls close to his scalp. He looked unusually serious,though. Normally when I saw him, he was smiling his sexy crooked grin that made my knees go wobbly. But now his eyes were cool and his lips quirked down in a frown.

I chewed and swallowed my bite—which took forever, the cheese, sauce, and tortilla seemingly multiplying in my mouth—and when I’d finally gulped it down, I managed to say, “Hi. You’re here.”

“I know,”Dex said. He motioned toward the empty chair opposite me. “Do you mind if I sit?”

I shook my head and tried to focus on breathing normally, a task made harder by the fact that my pulse was pounding like a jackhammer. He was
here
. And it appeared that he was here alone, unless his new girlfriend was hanging out with the group of girls over by the bar. I looked in that direction, to see if I could pick out the Laughing Girl, but I didn’t see anyone who was watching us. And most of Hannah’s friends were smiling and giggling. In fact, most of them were interchangeable—they were all thin and pretty, and all wore hip clothes and too much makeup. They were the chosen girls of Orange Cove High, and they knew it, reveling in their status at the top of the social heap.

Dex sat but didn’t say anything. Instead, he stared down at his hands resting on the table. I tried to think of something to say, something flirtatious and cutting that would make him regret the way he’d blown me off. But nothing came to mind. Because what I really wanted to know was
why
. Why had he pretended to like me if he didn’t? Why had he gotten my hopes up? But, of course, I couldn’t ask him that, not unless I wanted to come off as even more pathetic than I already felt.

“I didn’t think you were coming,”I finally said. Which was true; I had given up on the idea of seeing him.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to,”Dex said. Still not meeting my eyes, he lifted his lips in a humorless half smile. “I didn’t know what I was going to say to you.”

I felt a flash of anger then, hot and stabbing.

“You don’t have to worry about me,”I said acerbically. “I’m not going to start screaming at you or anything. Give me a little credit.”

Dex looked up then, his eyebrows furrowed in surprise.

“Scream at
me
?”he asked. “Why would you . . .”

“Hey, Dex,”a flirty female voice said, cutting him off before he could finish what he was saying.

Dex and I both looked up to see Avery, Hannah’s onetime best friend, standing there. I knew that she used to have a huge crush on Dex. . . . And from the way she was looking at him, in much the same way I’d seen her stare at a pair of shoes she was coveting, I had the distinct feeling that her crush was still going strong.

Could Avery be Dex’s new girlfriend?
I wondered. After all, Charlie didn’t know Avery, and so wouldn’t have recognized her if Charlie had seen her out with Dex. But surely not. Hannah would have heard if Dex and Avery were dating. And I’d gotten the definite feeling last semester that Dex didn’t care for Avery at all.

“I called you earlier. Did your mom give you the message?”Avery now asked.

She seemed to be pretending that I wasn’t sitting there. I didn’t really mind; every time Avery did talk to me, she just tried to coerce me into being her own personal homework slave.

“Yeah, she did,”Dex said shortly. He didn’t apologize for not returning her call, or explain why.

“Oh . . . well.”Avery looked discomposed for the first time. “I just wanted to see if you needed a ride here.”

“No,”Dex said. “I got a ride with Andrew.”

“Do you want to go get something to eat?”Avery asked, bobbing her head in the direction of the buffet. She shifted slightly, setting her shoulders back so that her large chest—scantily clad in a clingy black tank top—stuck out. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at this blatant play for Dex’s attention.

But Dex just shook his head. “No, thanks. Actually, Miranda and I are right in the middle of something.”

For the first time, Avery’s hazel eyes flickered toward me. “Oh. Right. Hi, Miranda,”she said without enthusiasm.

I smiled thinly at her. “Hi, Avery,”I said.

“Find me later, okay, Dex?”she said. And then before he could respond, she swiveled around and strode off, her miniskirt-clad hips swaying provocatively from side to side. I wondered if I looked half as good in my slip dress.

“Brrr,”I said, with a dramatic shiver. “If looks could freeze, I’d be an icicle right about now.”

But Dex didn’t crack a smile at this lame joke. Instead, his pale eyes held mine, his expression serious . . . and just a little bit angry. I remembered suddenly what we’d been talking about, and my own smile faded away.

“What did you mean by that when you said you weren’t going to scream at me?”he asked.

I shrugged and looked down at my plate of enchiladas. I’d lost my appetite. “Just what I meant. I’m not angry. I understand . . .”My voice trailed off. That was a lie. I didn’t understand why he’d blown me off. Not really. Sure, I wasn’t as pretty and popular as the girls at the party, flitting around as they tossed their shiny hair over shoulders bared in flirty little dresses. But Dex had already known that about me. . . . Before he’d shown up at the Snowflake, before he’d told me he liked me. I took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and said, “Well, actually, that’s not true. I don’t understand. But I get it. Really.”

“Miranda, what are you talking about?”Dex asked, now looking more bewildered than mad. Although the anger was still there, shadowing his eyes and causing a pink stain to rise on his cheeks.

But I didn’t care if he was angry, because I was starting to get seriously ticked off. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he’d made me think he liked me, gotten my hopes up, and then blown me off to be with some other girl, now he was acting like I was out of line for being annoyed by it!

“What do you think? I’m talking about how you blew me off!”I snapped.

“Wait . . .
I
blew
you
off ?”Dex’s face was thunderous. “Are you
kidding
me?”

“No, I’m not kidding!”I crossed my arms and glared at him. “What else would you call it? You haven’t bothered to get in touch with me in a month!”

“I tried!”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Yes,”Dex said, making a masterful effort not to shout at me, “I did. You gave me the wrong e-mail address.”

“No, I didn’t,”I said.

“Yes, you did,”Dex said again. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a canvas navy blue wallet. He opened it up and extracted a familiar-looking scrap of yellow paper. Dex handed it to me.

I stared down at the paper, and saw the familiar loopy handwriting in which I’d printed out my e-mail address: [email protected].

“Right, [email protected],”I said.

And then something occurred to me. . . .Something that caused me to feel like cold water was trickling down my spine. Because as I squinted down at the e-mail address I’d written out for Dex, I noticed that something was missing. The letter J. My middle initial. J for Jane.

“Oops,”I said.

“Oops?”Dex repeated. I glanced up at him, and for a moment, I thought I could see some of the old humor glinting in his eyes. But then he was looking stern again, and I thought maybe I’d imagined it.

“I . . . I wrote my e-mail address down wrong,”I said, and felt my cheeks flame red with embarrassment. “I left out my middle initial.”

“I tried to e-mail you. Each time, it bounced back at me as undeliverable. And I couldn’t call, because I didn’t have your mom’s phone number in London.”

“So . . . you
did
try to e-mail me?”I said, and suddenly felt a bubble of hope swell in my chest.

Dex nodded. “About a dozen times.”

“I’m really sorry,”I said, feeling a rush of mingled relief and happiness. But then I remembered: Laughing Girl. And my elation disappeared as abruptly as it had arrived. “But . . .”I started and then stopped, staring down at the table again. I really, really didn’t want to talk about his new girlfriend with him.

“But what?”Dex asked.

I finally looked up at him. “Look . . . what’s the point of discussing this? I heard you’re dating someone else,”I said, trying to keep my voice as calm and free of emotion as possible. Unfortunately, I wasn’t very successful; I could feel my throat catch, sending a definite waver into my voice.

“What? Who am I supposed to be dating?”he asked, looking puzzled.

“You don’t know?”

Dex let out a short laugh. “No, I don’t. Who told you I was seeing someone, anyway? Hannah?”

“No. My friend Charlie saw you out at the movies with someone,”I said.

Dex continued to look puzzled, his blondish-red eyebrows furrowed down again. Then comprehension suddenly cleared his face.

“Oh! You mean Cat!”he said. And then, to my astonishment, he grinned. “That’s who she saw me with. Cat.”

“I guess,”I said, trying—and failing—not to sound sullen.
Cat
. What kind of a name was Cat, anyway? “You should know.”

“Miranda . . . Cat is my
sister
,”Dex said, and then he laughed.

My mouth dropped open. “Your
sister
?”

“Yeah. My big sister. She was home from college on break, and we were hanging out a lot. That must have been who your friend saw me with.”

“But . . . I didn’t know you had a sister,”I said.

“As a matter of fact, I have two,”Dex said. “Both older. Cat’s twenty. She goes to the University of Florida. And Elise is twenty-four. She lives in Boston.”

“Oh,”I said, feeling more foolish than I ever had in my life.

“Yeah.
Oh
,”Dex said, and this time he grinned at me, although it seemed almost reluctant. “Is that why you never called me back?”

“Call you back?”Now it was my turn to be confused. “Wait . . . you
called
me? When?”

“I called you a few times. I left messages with some woman who answered the phone at the beach house. I think it might have been your stepmother,”Dex said. “But when you didn’t call me back . . . well, you know. I thought you were blowing me off.”

“No!”I exclaimed. “I didn’t know you called! She didn’t give me the messages!”

I threw a furious look in the direction of my evil stepmother. Peyton didn’t notice. She was too busy laughing her fake laugh at something a tall man with silver hair was saying.

Dex chuckled again, this time softly. “Well. I guess that explains a lot,”he said.

But it was taking me longer to digest this information. “So, wait . . . it was all just a misunderstanding?”I asked.

“Yeah. I guess it was,”Dex said. And this time when he smiled at me, I smiled back at him.

The band suddenly broke into a cool, rocker version of “Happy Birthday,”while two of the waiters wheeled out to the middle of the dance floor a huge sheet cake with white icing and the number sixteen formed by pink roses. The sixteen tall pink candles stuck on top of the cake were lit. Conversation broke off as everyone began to sing. Hannah, clutching Peyton’s hand, made her way to the cake, laughing and blushing prettily.

I sang along, too, although I was all too conscious of Dex sitting across the table from me. Did this mean he still liked me? I thought so . . . but at the same time, I didn’t want to get my hopes up again. After a full month had gone by without our speaking, it seemed like too much to wish for that things would pick up where we’d left off.

And there was something else, too: Henry. If Dex hadn’t been blowing me off while I was in London, and if he really had been out with his sister, and not some other girl . . . well, then, did that mean I’d cheated on him when I kissed Henry?

“Happy birthday, dear Hannah. Happy birthday to you,”
the crowd finished, and then everyone broke out in applause. Some of the girls let out loud
woo-hoo
s
.

“Thank you, everyone. And thank you all for coming tonight,”Hannah said. She looked at Peyton. “Can I blow out the candles?”

“Absolutely,”Peyton said, beaming at her daughter.

Hannah leaned forward and puckered her lips. She looked so pretty in the candlelight, her perfect pale skin glowing and face softened by an excited smile. Then she blew out the candles in one go, and everyone cheered again.

Chapter 14


So he didn’t ask you out?”Charlie exclaimed the following Monday at lunch.

She and I were sitting alone at our usual table. Finn wasn’t sitting with us. Ever since his fight with Charlie, he’d been eating lunch with Tate Metcalf and Jonathan Barker on the other side of the dining room. Charlie hadn’t mentioned the fight, or Finn’s absence, and I was too preoccupied with my own problems to address it right now.

BOOK: Geek Abroad
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