The Mysterious Nerd

Chapter 1- The lockout

I stood on the porch, squinting against the afternoon sun, my arms crossed as I leaned on the wooden railing. I had lost count of how many cars had passed by. Red, black, silver... how many had it been? Twenty? Thirty? God, I was bored.

Behind me, inside the house, I could hear Emily shuffling around with her usual energy. The telltale sounds of furniture scraping against the floor, vacuum cleaner whirring, and her muffled voice-probably talking to herself as she often did when deep in "cleaning mode."

It had been at least half an hour since she locked me out here. "You're in the way," she'd said with that no-nonsense look of hers. And here I was, banished to the porch while she stormed through the house like some cleaning tornado.

I glanced at the front door, sighed, and knocked, tapping lightly at first, then louder.

"Emily?" I called out, raising my voice just enough to carry through the door. "I swear I won't touch anything! Please let me in."

A brief pause followed before I heard her footsteps approach, each one determined and steady. The door swung open, and there stood Emily, one hand on her hip, the other clutching a dust cloth like it was some weapon of justice. Her blonde hair was swept back in a high ponytail, face flushed but still gorgeous, as always. She was annoyingly perfect-blue eyes sharp, skin glowing, dressed in neat jeans and a fitted top that looked like they'd never seen a speck of dust. Unlike me, standing there in my baggy sweatpants, hair a frizzy mess.

She sighed dramatically, stepping aside just enough for me to squeeze through.

"You know," she began, her voice already climbing into lecture mode as I ducked under her arm to enter, "I don't understand how one person can make such a mess in their own room without even leaving it. It's like you're in there 24/7, just... collecting chaos."

I shuffled in quietly, half-listening as she followed me through the small entryway, continuing her rant. "Seriously, Alana, you need to start getting out more.

As Emily continued to fuss around, straightening up the living room with a meticulousness that only she could pull off, I decided to voice my resistance to her well-intentioned nagging.

"Honestly, Em, going out is just too much work," I said, flopping down on the couch with a resigned sigh. "Besides, I love my laptop way more than anything else. And remember, I already promised you that we'd go clubbing every Saturday. That's the most I can do."

Emily's eyes softened as she looked at me, but then something seemed to catch her attention. She stopped mid-motion and walked over to my open cupboard, where she'd been putting away some of the cleaning supplies. There, nestled between some old notebooks and random papers, was a photo-one I hadn't meant for her to see. It was a picture of a little girl with her parents, a snapshot of a life that seemed so distant and foreign to my own.

My heart skipped a beat. I felt a sudden rush of nerves as Emily picked up the photo and turned to face me, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Alana, where did you get this?" she asked, her voice casual but with an edge of curiosity.

I swallowed hard, trying to compose myself. "Oh, that? It's just something I got from a friend. I must have accidentally put it in there. I'll make sure to return it."

Emily's eyes narrowed. "You're a terrible liar, you know that? You always rub your ears when you're lying."

I winced. She was right. I did have a tell, and apparently, she had picked up on it. I shifted uncomfortably, looking away from her piercing gaze.

She let out a sigh, and I knew she could see through my lame excuse. How could she not? We'd been living together for five years, after all.

It was hard to believe how quickly those years had flown by. I still remembered the first time we met. Emily wasn't even my classmate-we hadn't shared any classes because I wasn't enrolled at her college. I was sitting at a desk in one of her classrooms, scribbling away answers during an exam, not for myself but on behalf of a classmate.

I had been desperate back then, just trying to make ends meet. I was only eighteen, an orphan doing whatever I could to survive, including taking other people's exams for money. Emily had walked into that exam hall to find me, a stranger, sitting in her friend's seat.

The look of shock and horror on her face had been priceless. She had stormed up to me afterward, absolutely appalled.

"Who the hell are you, and why are you taking someone else's exam?" she'd asked, her eyes blazing with righteous fury.

I could have bolted. I probably should have. But for some reason, I stayed. I told her the truth. No point in lying-I was never good at it anyway. I explained how I was trying to earn money because I had no one else to rely on.

She didn't respond the way I expected. Instead of turning me in or lecturing me on ethics, she sat down and listened. That was the thing about Emily-once you got past the exterior, the bluntness, the no-nonsense attitude, she was the kindest person I had ever met. She offered me something no one else had at that point: a place to stay.

Her parents had rented her a house for college, and she said there was plenty of room for both of us. I didn't know how to respond to that kind of generosity, especially not from a girl who barely knew me. But I insisted on paying rent, even though it was next to nothing. It was the least I could do.

And from then on, we'd been inseparable. She'd taken me in when I had no one, no family, no past worth mentioning, and she'd never once asked for anything in return.

But she had noticed. She always noticed when I clammed up about my past. When I avoided talking about my family.

I could see the same look in her eyes now as she held the photo, a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Alana," she began softly, walking over to sit next to me on the couch. "I know you don't like talking about your past or your family, and that's okay. You don't have to. But if you ever want to, I'm here. I'll always be here for you. I'd fight the entire world for you."

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I blinked, feeling my vision blur as tears welled up. I didn't cry easily, but Emily had this way of reaching deep into my heart, cracking it open when I least expected it. I tried to blink away the tears, but they spilled over, and before I knew it, I was burying my face in her shoulder.

"I love you so much, Em," I murmured into her soft sweater, the warmth of her embrace wrapping around me like a safety net. "But I really need to get back to work. You need to stop making me all mushy."

Emily chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face as I pulled back. "Alright, alright. No more mushy stuff. But remember, I'm always here. And seriously, stop rubbing your ears when you lie-it's a dead giveaway."

I managed a weak smile, wiping away the last of my tears. "I'll keep that in mind."

I stood up, my legs still a bit shaky from the unexpected emotional overload. "I'll head back to work now. Thanks for... you know. Everything."

Emily gave me a playful shove toward the door. "Go on. I'll finish up the cleaning. You can owe me later."

I laughed, the heaviness in my chest lifting just a little as I walked toward my room. I glanced back once more, watching her go back to dusting the shelves, humming to herself.

Somehow, despite all the chaos, I had ended up with someone who balanced me out. Emily was my rock, my safe place, and even though I still wasn't ready to face the parts of myself I'd buried, I knew that when the time came, she'd be there, ready to help me through it.

And that was enough for now.