One Big Cliché

Chapter 3

Nicole

          I slam Sarah's car door shut with a huff, and she turns to me as we idle in the parking lot, waiting for The Dweeb. "What took you so long?"

          "Got stuck talking to Tyler for you, then Mr. Mason gave me the privilege of tutoring some dumb jock after school," I explain as I buckle up, my jaw setting. Too risky? That's what he had to say about it? It's too risky to be seen with me? Jackass.

          "Ooh, harsh. Will you still be able to help me watch The Dweeb?" She asks, chewing off a hangnail on her thumb. "I mean, it's cool if you can't."

          She means watch in its loosest of terms. My head bounces onto my headrest and I stare up at the roof of her car. "Not today, but I'll set up a more solid schedule with him after he comes over."

          "He's coming over? Today?" Her voice squeals, and she lifts her eyebrows up so far that I swear they only need a few centimeters before they meet with her hairline. "Is your wicked stepmother going to be home?"

          A motor-like sound comes from my lips as I slowly let out the air from my lungs and search through the window, looking for The Dweeb. I see Tyler sitting on the curb in front of the doors, head down, but I don't mention it. "Probably. Maybe not, though. She might need to get her toes done or something. My dad will be busy at work, so she'll want to be out of the house and spending his money."

          The Dweeb runs out of the Middle School building that's behind our high school and races toward us, staring at the space in front of his feet. One day I swear he is going to run into somebody, but hey, that's his prerogative.

          Sarah sighs, "Is he someone you're comfortable being alone with?"

          Taking my eyes off The Dweeb, I stare at her confused. Why wouldn't I? "Sarah. He's just some dumb jock. I don't think he's going to do anything. Besides, Jake is probably way worse than him."

          I suppress a shudder. He's definitely way worse than him.

          "He's still mowing your lawn?" She inquires thoughtfully. "Wasn't he always asking you out last year? That was weird. What senior asks out a sophomore? What's worse is he didn't even go to our school."

          "Tell me about it," I mumble, but my thoughts are already drifting. 

          If I finish my homework early enough, I'll probably have time to get a good dance in—something I didn't get a chance to do yesterday—and then shower before Dustin comes over. Wait, is it Dustin? I think that's what Mr. Mason said. Could have been Dillon, though. Brandon? Okay, now I'm just overthinking it. It's Dustin. I think.

          "Maybe he's stalking you," she suggests, as soon as The Dweeb opens the door and jumps in. It takes me a moment to remember that we were talking about Jake, not Dustin/Dillon/Brandon.

          The Dweeb catches his breath, setting his bag aside and buckling his seatbelt, "Who's stalking you?"

          I stare at him, craning my neck to get a full view, waiting until he starts to shift around uncomfortably from my scrutiny before I answer, "Jake. The guy that mows my lawn."

          "Creepy," he states.

          Figuring it'd be easier to talk about something else—mainly because Sarah is the more talkative of us—I bring up Tyler. "Your lover boy said yes, by the way. I had to annoy him into compliance, but he eventually caved."

          Sarah restlessly taps her fingers against the steering wheel. "I just feel bad that he's always sitting by himself, you know? He just... he needs a friend."