Free Geek High by Piper Banks Page A

just like that, the galloping skittered to a stop. I don’t know what a broken heart is supposed to feel like, but for me it felt as though I’d been frozen clear through. I went numb and cold at the same time.
    â€œMiranda,” Charlie murmured. She surreptitiously poked me in the side, causing me to jump in my seat. I realized only then that I hadn’t answered Emmett.
    â€œShe probably has a boyfriend, huh,” Emmett said.
    â€œUm…” I said. I could have said, Yes, she does have a boyfriend . I could have said, She’s dating the hottest guy at Orange Cove High, and oh, by the way, he also happens to be a black belt in jujitsu . But I have my pride, even if it was now currently hanging about me in tatters. “No, I don’t think she does,” I finally said.
    Emmett grinned at me. His smile was just the tiniest bit crooked, and there was a small dimple in his right cheek. I’d spent hours fantasizing about him smiling down at me like that. Never once did I ever imagine that it would hurt this much.
    â€œCool. So, um, would you mind giving me her number?”
    Numbly, I wrote the beach house phone number down on a slip of notebook paper, tore it off, and handed it to him.
    â€œThanks, Bloom,” Emmett said. He winked and sauntered off, flushed with happiness.
    â€œHe’s calling me Bloom,” I said miserably. “When they start calling you by your last name, all hope is lost.”
    â€œActually, I think when they ask you for your stepsister’s phone number, all hope is lost,” Charlie said.
    I looked at her reproachfully. This was heartless, even for someone as unromantic as Charlie.
    â€œSorry,” she said, immediately contrite. “But you know what I’m going to say.”
    â€œI know, I know. You’re going to say that anyone who would choose Hannah over me is an idiot, and not worth getting upset over,” I said. I was trying not to cry, which made my voice sound unnaturally creaky.
    â€œNo. I was going to say that anyone who would ever be interested in such a vain, shallow, self-centered little brat like Hannah isn’t even worth knowing,” Charlie said.
    â€œMaybe he doesn’t know she’s vain, shallow, and self-centered,” I said wistfully, watching Emmett as he pulled out his copy of The Stranger and opened up his laptop. “Maybe once he realizes it, he’ll lose interest in her.”
    â€œOh, no,” Charlie said, shaking her head. “Don’t even go there. Life is not one of those feel-good teen movies, where the nice girl triumphs over the horrible popular girl in the end. Just forget about him, Miranda. Seriously.”
    I knew the sort of movie she was talking about. The protagonist is always beautiful, but everyone around her pretends that she’s plain because she wears clunky glasses, dresses in overalls, and keeps her hair pulled back in a ponytail. And then at some key point in the movie—usually at the prom—she puts in contact lenses, wears a slinky dress, and shakes out her hair, and suddenly everyone realizes for the first time that she looks exactly like Lindsay Lohan. It’s because of those propaganda films that every smart but plain girl secretly believes that one day she’ll shake out her hair and the hot guy in school will suddenly see her for the beauty she really is.
    But I don’t wear my hair up, or have glasses. And my clothes are pretty much the same ones from the Gap that everyone else at school wears. And so far, no one’s ever confused me with Lindsay Lohan. I slumped forward over my desk and stared at the glowing screen of my laptop.
    â€œWhy so sad, Miranda?” Felicity asked so loudly, she was practically yelling.
    I ignored her, which was usually the best plan of action when it came to Felicity.
    â€œI would have thought you’d be excited that a certain someone crossed a room to talk to you,” Felicity