He's the Nerd of my Dreams

Nerd of my Dreams Chapter 3

Jenna

"What happened to you," dad asked rushing over to me. He scooped me up bridal style and carried me inside the house. Mom bent down to get all of my stuff that I took out of my bag. Daddy sat me down on the couch where I curled up into a little ball and cried.

"Was it that boy?" he screamed.

I cried harder and nodded my head sadly.

"Where's my shotgun?!" he yelled at my mom.

"Calm down honey," I heard her soothing voice. "And when I say that, I mean both of you."

I tensed at first when I felt her warm hand touch my back. She started to rub soothing circles on my back making me calm down. My heaves and loud sobs became gentle cries. Mom always knew how to soothe me when I was having hard times. She'd always rub my back.

"Take a deep breath and tell us what happened," she whispered still rubbing my back. So I did. I told them the whole story only leaving out the intricate details of our kissing, i.e. me getting turned on. After I finished telling the story the room got quiet. I looked up to see my dad's face beet red. His fists were clenched and his jaw was tightened. He was slightly shaking with anger.

"That bastard." He said through gritted teeth.

"Harold, why don't you go upstairs and relax. Jenna, up a daisy, let's get you showered." Mom wrapped an arm around my waist helping me off of the couch. I leaned into her as we walked up the stairs and into my bathroom. I didn't move once we got in the bathroom. I felt too glum and torn and betrayed and broken. Mom sighed irritably before starting to undress me like I was a toddler all over again. She turned on the shower and helped me inside. I closed my eyes as the first few drops of warm water hit my skin. Mom's hand was holding onto one of my arms while she was standing outside the shower just in case I fainted of collapsed or something; she was always prepared. I washed up taking my time and then shampooed and conditioned my hair and stepped out of the shower, with my mom's help of course, and dried off.

My mind was blank. I didn't want to think about anything besides going to sleep and forgetting that this night ever happened or that I never met Chris. I cringed at his name. I hate him. I thought that I loved him but after this? No way. I would never love him and can't believe that I thought that I did in the first place. NO more thinking I told myself walking into my room with my mom right next to me. She pulled the blankets back and ushered me to get in. I crawled up and mom pulled the covers over my limp body. She lent down and kissed the top of my head. I closed my eyes at the touch. "I love you," she murmured against my hair. She pulled back and looked at my face with a sad look in her eyes. Her black hair was messy and her hazel eyes showed tiredness and her thin lips held a sad smile that was supposed to reassure me that everything would be alright but even I, the girl who had been cheated on for three months, knew that it wouldn't be okay anytime soon.

I spent the rest of the weekend in my room crying silent sobs and building a tissue mountain. Not a mountain of tissues but a tissue mountain, get it straight. Mom would occasionally come in with a bowl of Chunky Monkey ice cream which I would throw down on as soon as the spoon reached my lips. My dad came in once and attempted to clean up my tissue 'mess' as he liked to call it but I wouldn't let him. I liked to look at it. For some odd reason it made me feel stupid which I for some weird reason enjoyed. Looking at the tissue mountain made me realize how stupid I was for crying over some jerk-off who at this time was probably not shedding any tears because of me. I smiled every time I looked over at the tissue mountain but the a few tears would always escape when I'd realize how much time I wasted on him. How many tears I shed for some loser. How I could have done better. How if I wasn't stuck in a little world where everything was perfect, I would have realized what Chris had been up to. But no, I never did and I can't go back now to catch on to the games he was playing with me.