The Diary of a Nerd

Chapter 13

Tuesday, October 6, 2007. My Kitchen, 7:24 AM.

Is it wrong of me to hope that Shannon isn't on the ride to school today, too? I mean, it's not like I'm breaking any rules in the How To Get Over Troy Bolton In Four Days plan. Wait . . . Darn it, I only have THREE days left.

Which reminds me. The dance is in three days. Am I just going to fly solo or should I drag Kelsi, or someone, with me? I don't want to be the - wait, Troy and Shannon, Chad and Taylor, Sharpay and Zeke - seventh wheel. If that's even possible. Because how uncomfortable would that be? I can see it now:

Fast song ends, slow song starts, everyone leaves with their respective partner, and I'm left by the punch bowl to stuff myself with stale cookies and watery guacamole. Sounds fun . . . NOT.

Maybe I just shouldn't go. It's not like I own a suitable dress, anyway. I could stay home, watch the movie Carrie, and think about how if I had actually gone to the dance, Carrie's experience could possibly have happened to me. Okay, so maybe not.

Oh, Troy just pulled up into the driveway. He's early today.

Tuesday, October 6, 2007. Homeroom, 8:05 AM.

Once again I am THE first one in this classroom and the bell doesn't ring for another six minutes. And, no. Ms. Darbus is NOT back, yet. I really, truly wonder where she is and do not want to think about the item she grabbed at Rite Aide the other day. It's Troy's fault that I'm so early, really. The reason HE came to pick me up early was because he wanted to take me to Starbucks for breakfast and 'talk' to me.

What about, you ask? Well, literally the entire ride I kept thinking, "Oh, my gosh. Chad told him I have feelings for him. Stupid Afro-boy!" But as it turned out, Troy didn't want to talk to me about that. Nope, he wanted to ask me something else.

"So, Elle," he said as we walked into Starbucks. "You want anything?"

Besides the fact that I was practically on a date with him and was completely breaking my pact, I mumbled that I liked caramel macchiatos. It's not my fault he happened to hear me and ordered a grandé coffee with my name written across it.

And really quickly, while I'm on the subject, why is it that every person working at Starbucks doesn't know how to spell any common names? Like, the last time Taylor and I went here they spelled 'Taylor' like T-A-Y-L-E-R. And, okay. I guess that's a common mistake. But when Troy handed me my cup that had G-A-B-R-Y-E-L-L-A written across the side, I just knew that there must be some sort of brainwashing machine that makes normally smart people atrocious spellers.

But, anyway. Troy and I sat at a small table in the corner of the room, away from all the college procrastinators typing furiously on their laptops. We hadn't exactly spoken properly since last night, and after Coach Bolton's rather, erm, lovely talk, I didn't know what to say to him. Luckily Troy started up the conversation.

"So, Elle," he began, stirring the straw in his vente Java Chip Frappuccino. "I just wanted to know what was up. You know, last night. You seemed off."

Of course I seemed 'off'. Shannon is basically a smarter version of Lindsay. Not to mention I'm gracing the school for the first time in a few days today.

"I'm fine," I said lightly, trying but failing to make myself sound convincing. "I just have . . . A lot on my mind."

Troy gave a curt nod, still looking at me with his calculating blue eyes. "Okay. When you feel like actually telling me what's up, I'm here."

Darn him and his intelligence.

I just took a sip of my coffee. I wasn't feeling like talking about my issues just yet. I still don't. In fact, I'm NEVER going to tell Troy that I had feelings for him. Yes, had. Come three days and I'll be over him.