Good Nerd Hunting Page 7

  “Again?” Blake asked.

  “Amazing how a group of self-proclaimed brainiacs made the same mistake twice, right?” said Julio. “And the same assholes from last time were there, too! They were still pissed, not that I blame them. If a kid half my size put me in my place, I’d still be pissed a year later, too. Only, I wasn’t there to save them this time.” Julio grimaced. “I was at home sick from TB’s poisoning.”

  “But it all turned out just fine, ‘cause they had me!” said Izzy. “I just did what any seventh-grader in the same situation would do: I staged a paranormal possession!”

  “How’d you do that?” Blake asked.

  “Easy. I pretended like I was having a seizure and made weird faces, like I was Julio straining on the toilet. And to top it all off, I went back and forth between different languages. They were running scared by the time I was speaking German!

  “We told Julio what happened the next day at school. He didn’t want me in at first, said I couldn’t be trusted ‘cause I’m crazy and random as hell, but Quen and Jamie Tru outvoted him, saying that if I hadn’t been there, they would’ve been toast.

  “You may have guessed it by now, but my codename is Wild Card.”

  “They met me next,” said Finn. “I saw them all the time at Blair Manor, but I was always hanging out with Tess, so I never really talked to them. Once, when they were over, Julio injured his back while he was rough housing with Izzy. I’d done some reading on chiropractic adjustments, so I offered to fix it for him. My codename is Genius.”

  “It’s fitting,” said Blake.

  “As you can see,” said Jamie Tru, his arms spread open, “we only accept the biggest nerds in school. Finn is a human encyclopedia, Izzy speaks five languages, Julio and Quen are at the top of our class, and I build computers for fun. That’s why we want you to join us. You got a full ride to the most competitive school in the state. You’re perfect for Nerds, Inc.”

  Blake shook his head. “I dunno. I mean, I get that I’m nerd enough, but… I don’t think I’m cool enough. I mean”—he pointed to Jamie Tru—“you’re a billionaire computer geek,”—his finger pivoted to Izzy and Julio— “you two are indestructible”—his finger landed on Finn—“and you can draw scenes perfectly from memory. I’m not cool like you guys.”

  “Sure, you are!” said Izzy. “You knocked me out of a tree. With a sling shot. If that doesn’t scream ‘cool,’ I don’t know what does.”

  “And what about your old life in Rosewood?” Finn added. “You’ve been fending off bullies with nothing but a slingshot for years. That’s the definition of cool. And we both have perfect memory, we just use them for different things.”

  “Yeah,” Julio agreed, nodding. “That’s not just cool: it’s badass.”

  Blake felt his cheeks grow hot. Insults he was used to, but compliments? They were alien to him.

  Just say ‘no’ and leave already, said his Inner Critic. You’re not cut out for friends, especially none like these.

  But… why not? I mean, I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?

  At that thought, Blake felt his heart swell.

  “Okay, you convinced me,” he said. “I’ll join Nerds, Inc. So, is there an initiation or something?”

  “No, we just have to vote to let you in,” Quen said. “All in favor of Blake joining Nerds, Inc.?” Everyone’s hand went up. Even Rascal, sitting in Blake’s folded lap, raised his paw. “All opposed?” Their hands went down. “It’s unanimous. Welcome to Nerds, Inc., Blake!”

  Everyone clapped and whooped their approval.

  “Woohoo, way to go!” Izzy exclaimed, pulling Blake into a tight hug, causing his face to burn hotter.

  “Now for your codename,” Jamie Tru said. “I think Assassin would suit you best. What do you guys think?”

  The members of Nerds, Inc. nodded in unison. Quen called another vote and it was unanimous once more.

  “So, Assassin, tell us about it,” said Julio. “What was it like in Rosewood?”

  10

  Heavy

  “A war zone,” Blake answered. “I was chased every day and it only got worse as we got older.”

  “And they chased you ‘cause you’re a nerd, right?” asked Izzy.

  “Mostly,” Blake agreed. “It’s also because they don’t like my family. We’re hated in Rosewood.”

  “Why?” Julio inquired. “The McCrackens are like royalty at Seven Hills.”

  “Yeah, and the Science and Technology wing is dedicated to Finn’s dad,” Quen chimed in. “I can’t imagine anyone hating your family.”

  “I think it has to do with a grudge Mayor Franklin has with my dad,” Blake answered. “They’ve been enemies since before I was born, and I don’t think anyone remembers why. The Franklins are an elite family in Rosewood, so they were able to persuade everyone to hate my dad and his whole family, too. And when Franklin took office and made his family the most powerful in Rosewood, it only added fuel to the fire.

  “That’s why his son, Sammy, can’t stand me. I’ve been his punching bag since the sandbox. Him and his posse made it impossible for me to make any friends. Even the other nerds didn’t want shit to do with me. If I didn’t have Rascal, I would’ve lost my mind.” He smoothed his pet’s fur with a swipe of his hand.

  “Whoa,” Julio breathed.

  “Did you tell a teacher, or the principal?” Quen asked.

  “Of course not. McCrackens don’t matter, remember? My Dad tried to teach me to fight, but I’m weak, so it didn’t help. He gave me his old sling shot instead.” Blake reached into his back pocket and held up his weapon of choice. “We practiced every day in the backyard with soda cans. And my brother went running with me before school every morning, so I at least stood a chance when I was being chased. By the end of fourth grade, I was the fastest in town and the best shot. Sammy backed off when I started putting out his friends’ eyes.”

  “Tell us about how Nerd Hunting Season started, Blake!” said Finn.

  Blake nodded. “Sammy got angry after I figured out a way to defend myself. He struck up a deal with me, told me that he’d round up his best guys and hunt me down. If they could catch me by the end of summer, I had to give up my slingshot. If they couldn’t, they weren’t allowed to bully me for a whole school year. He called it Nerd Hunting Season. I didn’t have a choice. He would do it with or without my approval.” Blake smirked. “He hasn’t bullied me in three years.”

  “How did this year’s Nerd Hunting go down?” asked Julio. “Did it end early ‘cause you moved?”

  Blake folded his arms, nodding. “This was my last summer in Rosewood, so Sammy made some last-minute changes without telling me.”

  “Like what?” Izzy asked.

  “There were way more hunters than usual,” Blake answered. “Sammy convinced our entire class to come after me by offering money to whoever did the most damage.”

  “You’re kidding,” said Quen.

  “‘Ten dollars if you leave a nasty bruise’,” Blake recited. “‘Fifty if you draw blood!’ They started on the last day of school instead of the following Monday like we usually do, which caught me off guard. Then, they blocked my path home and cornered me at the town chapel.”

  “You fought in a church?” Quen asked, clutching the cross that dangled from his neck.

  “No, I hid there. On the roof. All the kids are afraid of the chapel,” Blake explained, when he saw Quen’s puzzled expression.

  “Why?” Quen questioned.

  “Father Dominic. He’s the creep that runs the chapel. There’s a rumor that he kills kids, so everyone calls him Father Demonic. I only run to the chapel when I can’t run home.”

  “So, were you on the roof to keep away from Father Demonic?” Finn asked.

  Blake nodded. “I don’t believe that crazy rumor, but he’s still creepy as hell. Just being in the same room as him makes my skin crawl.”

  “How did you escape?” Izzy asked. “Did the hunters get bored and go home?”
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  “No, I had to call my brother to come get me. Everyone’s afraid of him because he fights so well. They always joke that he gets violent because he’s Irish.”

  “Your whole family’s Irish, right?” said Quen.

  “Everyone on my dad’s side is, but my mom is American, so me and my brother are half Irish.”

  “Tell us what happened after you escaped!” said Finn.

  “I was exhausted, so I laid low for a few days at home. When I recovered, I officially started Nerd Hunting Season.” Blake pulled out a small leather pouch from his pocket protector and withdrew a spike marble. “I don’t have many of these, so I save them for special occasions. After I blinded Sammy’s best hunters with my smooth marbles, I used these spiked marbles to pop their bike tires, so they couldn’t find their way home.

  “News traveled fast. I was at the park when they showed up. Most of them from the last day of school went home. They didn’t want me to put their eyes out. Sammy was there. He’s the one who warned Keira…” Blake faltered.

  “Who’s Keira?” asked Jamie Tru after a brief silence.

  “Isn’t she…” Finn began. He locked eyes with Blake, who shook his head. Finn nodded and said no more.

  “She’s no one,” said Blake to Jamie Tru. “She’s just some girl. Sammy warned her about me, so she left the park. And while they were busy talking, I climbed a tree and hid. I took them all out, eyes, tires, and all. Then I went home, and that was the end of it.”

  Silence followed Blake’s words. He would have told them about how Sammy got away in all the confusion, or about how he finished him off before leaving Rosewood, but he decided against it. He was done talking.

  “You’re incredible, you know that, Blake?” said Izzy.

  “Yeah, is it too late to induct you into the Hardcore Badass Hall of Fame?” asked Julio.

  Despite the sudden heaviness in his heart and his niece’s toothless grin floating on the surface of his mind, Blake managed a small smile. “Of course not. Just tell me when.”

  * * *

  Blake took his seat at the dining room table next to Phoenix. His mother sat at one end of the table, but the chair at the other was vacant.

  “Where’s Dad?” he asked his mother.

  “In his study, love,” his mother answered.

  Blake stared at the empty seat. Strange, it wasn’t like his father to be late to dinner. He eyed the steaming pan of untouched lasagna in the center of the table. “I hope he gets here soon. I’m starving!”

  His words were met with silence. He noticed that his mother seemed… robotic this evening, apathetic even. At the sight of her glossy eyes, a windup doll came to mind. He squirmed in his seat. It was commonplace for his brother to be stoic, but Blake had never seen his mother in such a state. “So, what did you do today, Mom?”

  “Looked after Cleo, mostly.”

  “Was she a handful?”

  “No, she was perfect,” she replied in a small voice.

  An odd feeling washed over Blake, one he could not identify. He had just befriended the coolest kids in the world. He should be brimming with elation, pride. So, why did this odd feeling have such a tight grip on him?

  He looked up at the sound of heavy footsteps.

  Finally, he thought.

  Blake smelled the faint scent of whiskey on his father’s breath as he passed. His father’s cheeks were red as he took his seat at the head of the table. They ate without a word. After what felt like an eternity, Blake opened his mouth to speak, hoping to break the unnerving silence. However, his mother beat him to it.

  “You’re drunk.”

  His father paused, lowering his fork. “I always have a drink after work. Am I not allowed to drink in my own house?”

  “Of course. But you usually don’t drink this much.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Phoenix snorted. Three heads turned in his direction. “If it were me, I’d need a drink just to get through dinner, too.”

  “Phoenix!” said his mother in alarm.

  “What?” asked Phoenix, as though he’d commented on the weather. “It’s bad enough you cheated on him. Now he has to wonder whether or not that baby—my half-sister—is even his. I’d need a drink, too.”

  “How dare you?” said his mother. She looked to her husband. “Seamus, will you please talk some sense into your son?”

  “Phoenix, this is neither the time nor the place,” his father told his brother.

  Blake’s heart dropped. Seeing his mother’s face, he knew she noticed it, too. For one horrifying millisecond, before he spoke, his father had hesitated.

  “Sea?” His mother’s soft voice was wrought with confusion.

  His father broke his gaze with her. “You kept her from us for so long it… it makes me wonder.”

  A black tear raced down her face. “Can we talk about this in private?”

  “No,” Phoenix declared. “Anything you say in front of Dad, you can say in front of me. I have a right to know whether or not that’s my half-sister sleeping upstairs.”

  His father stood. “Your mother’s right. We’ll be in my study.”

  Blake’s mother followed his father out of the dining room, wiping away her black tears.

  Phoenix pushed away his plate. “I’m not hungry.” He left, leaving Blake alone at the table.

  This is all your fault, his Inner Critic spat. Why didn’t you just tell them about your day, like last time? You could’ve avoided all of this, but you didn’t!

  I know, Blake thought, the guilt anchoring at the bottom of his stomach. I meant to, but—

  Just shut up and clean up the mess you’ve made!

  Shaking from head to toe, Blake rose, went into the kitchen, and returned with a roll of saran wrap. He covered up their plates and the pan of remaining lasagna and stored them in the fridge. On his way to his room, he heard his parents’ muffled argument from the staircase. He collapsed onto his bed, tears streaming down his face. After he’d soaked his pillow, a certain heaviness lulled him to sleep. Right before he drifted off, he pondered what that heaviness was: the fatigue from a long day or the guilt of destroying his parents’ marriage?

  11

  Babbling Brooke

  The McCrackens unpacked in near silence the following day. Cleona, who seemed to sense the tension in the air, cried more often. Her wails echoed throughout the house. On the bright side, this encouraged Phoenix’s mother to spend less time arguing with his father and more time tending to Cleo. She practically barricaded herself in the infant’s room.

  After lunch, Phoenix retired to his bedroom. From his window, he saw Blake sprinting down the street, that demonic Rascal at his heels. Drawing the curtains, Phoenix sat at his keyboard, laid down a half-finished piece on the stand, and stared, his long fingers hovering above the keys. The inspiration would come, as it always did. He just had to be patient.

  Any minute now…

  Any day now…

  What’s the hold up? he thought.

  He played what he’d written thus far. He was content with the strong beginning and the call-and-responses he’d added to the middle, but when he got to the end, he remained stuck. What happened next? A key change? A change in time signature? A new countermelody? It wasn’t done, that much he knew for sure, but he didn’t know how to finish it.

  You’ve lost your edge, said his Inner Critic. You should just give up. Most of what you write is shit anyway.

  Phoenix rolled his eyes. I know that.

  You need to go back to what you know.

  I will, but not until August. I don’t know anyone in this city. I have to play it safe.

  A few doors down, he heard his sister cry. Then came his parents’ muffled bickering. His eyes clenched tight, Phoenix pinched the skin between his eyebrows. How was he supposed to work with all this noise? Was it not bad enough that he was suffering from writer’s block? No wonder Blake left. Phoenix swiped across the music stand, knocking all the sheet music to the floor. He grabbed h
is laptop from his desk and shoved it in his school bag before slinging it over his shoulder. Without either of his parents’ knowledge, he was on his bike and out the door. He peddled with no clear destination in mind. He sped past pedestrians and dogwalkers, sunlight bouncing off the spokes of his bike, his black mane flowing in the breeze.

  Never been to one of those before, he thought as he stopped in front of a Starbucks.

  He locked his bike and walked inside. A pleasant chill greeted him; he heard a young singer playing acoustic guitar overhead. He sat at a small table close to an outlet. Once his laptop was plugged in, he powered it on.

  He opened a file on his computer and reread his list of summer homework assignments. They sure did give him a lot of shit to do. He decided to start on his Spanish essay; within an hour, he finished the first draft.

  Time for a break, he thought.

  He connected to the wi-fi and put on his headphones. Right when he was about to play one of Bloc Party’s music videos on YouTube, he saw an ad for anonymous chat.

  Sounds like an invitation for sharing nudes, he thought with a roll of his eyes.

  Although, talking to people his own age did sound appealing. Where did sixteen-year-olds go to talk to each other, other than Facebook, Snapchat, and Twitter? Well, he could always just google it. Sure enough, he found about a thousand different chat websites, all of which claimed to be exclusive to teenagers. Riiight. After several minutes of searching, he settled on a site called Tomodachi. What did that even mean? Regardless, it looked friendly enough and the graphics were appealing. Why not? He created an account, using a phoenix for his profile picture and rowan1229 for his screenname. Once his account was set up, he entered several chatrooms, jumping from one that was for newbies to another that was for random discussion. He had some interesting conversations with many strange people. However, one stood out among the rest: a girl—supposedly—who went by Brooke. He asked if she’d like to enter a private chat and she agreed.

  rowan1229: why do you go by brooke?