Footnotes

Chapter Two

nerd

\ˈnərd\

noun

: an unstylish, unattractive, or socially inept person; especially : one slavishly devoted to intellectual or academic pursuits <computer nerds>

-Good Enough For You-

     Nikita Carmichael is definitely not a nerd.

She is intelligent, but she is not, I quote,"slavishly devoted to intellectual or academic pursuits".[8] She is most definitely not unattractive. Her long, toned legs, exotic beauty, and three inch long eyelashes[9] strongly oppose that observation.

I, on the other hand, am quite plain. I might have light hair and blue eyes, but I do not have her effortless beauty. I require glasses (one that does not have three inch thick lens on it and is actually kind of cute) to see clearly, but her vision is twenty twenty.

Unlike me, Nikita does not need to reread anything she's read before to remember it. Her memory is perfect. Mine is not.

Her complexion is a flawless honey-gold, while I am pale. Very pale.

She is wearing a comfortable-cute outfit of skinny jeans, white turtleneck sweater, and white furry winter boots (It's not winter, but she pulls it off), a pair of large sunglasses on top of her perfectly conditioned, practically reflective ebony mane.[10] I'm wearing a white knee-length cotton dress, colorful Converses, my hair up in a high pony. Doesn't exactly scream designer.

Her Marc Jacobs handbag is similar to Fi's, except it is in a cream color, and anything Fi has indicates "designer, expensive, and chic".

My thrift shop found messenger bag indicates "weird, broke, and tasteless".

I mean, I still love my messenger bag. I've embroidered flowers on it, an imitation of paint splotches, along with a cursive script of my name on it. I might think that my messenger bag is cute, but it seems as if I'm the only one. Beside Nikita's expensive handbag, it looks childish and plain.

Why am I comparing myself to Nikita, you ask?

I'll be very honest. I'm jealous. And intimidated. And insecure.

Nikita has known Aidan for longer than I have, and she's smarter, more stylish, prettier, more charitable despite my family being way richer (not that I have much access to the fortune), more mature, and nicer, apparently, because she doesn't seem to have murdering intents like I do right now.

Can you blame me for feeling intimidated?

Aidan has his arm around my waist as he talks energetically to Nikita, but his attention is all focused on Nikita. His usually warm and comfortable arm feels cold and heavy on my waist.

Fi and Sadie are both listening enthusiastically as Aidan and Nikita conversed, occasionally putting in a word or two of their own.

To be clear, Fi and Sadie are both very intelligent, but their intelligence do not reach Aidan's requirements in order to be considered intelligent enough to be close friends with. Fi dislikes Aidan with all her being, but Sadie just ignores him usually, being the peaceful one.

Neither exactly like Aidan, but they seem to have forgotten that fact, and are acting like his best buddies right now.

I stare at the painting of a beautiful woman on Aidan's wall. Why can't I look like you? I think, frowning.

     "...don't you think so, love?"

I turn to look at Aidan."Um, pardon?"

Impatience flits through his expression briefly, then he shakes his head in disappointment."I don't think Annalise was following anything we said."