Their favorite Nerd

chapter 2

Friday – 7:58 PM

The lake house is a lie.

Houses have walls and roofs and mortgages. This place has a helipad. A dock that stretches three hundred feet into black water. Glass walls that reflect the dying sun like a blade.

I shouldn't be here.

My beat-up Honda Civic is parked between a Tesla and a Porsche. The valet didn't even try to hide his smirk when I handed him my keys.

“Right this way, ma'am.”

Ma'am. Like I'm someone's mother. Like I'm not twenty-one years old and wearing the only decent dress I own.

The dress is navy blue. Secondhand. I found it at a thrift store in the next town over, where no one knows my name. The fabric skims my hips. The neckline dips lower than anything I've ever worn.

I left the glasses in my car.

For the first time in my life, I can see the blurry edges of the world. It's terrifying.

Don't wear glasses.

Dylan's note is folded in my pocket. I've read it forty-seven times.

Lia's voice echoes in my head: “This is a trap. Text me every hour.”

I didn't text her when I arrived.

Because part of me, the pathetic, lonely part that still believes in fairy tales, wants to see his face when he sees me without the armor.

8:15 PM – Inside

The party is a fever dream.

Bodies pressed together. Music that vibrates in my sternum. Red cups floating on every surface like petals after a storm.

I walk through the crowd and no one recognizes me.

No one.

The girl who fixes the WiFi is invisible. But this girl, the one in the navy dress with her hair down and her glasses gone, she gets looked at.

A guy I don't know touches my lower back. “You lost, beautiful?”

Before I can answer, a hand closes around my elbow.

Dylan's hand.

“She's with me,” he says.

The guy disappears. The crowd parts.

Dylan pulls me close. His chest is hard against my shoulder. He smells like cedar and expensive cologne and something else. Something darker.

“You came,” he says.

“You asked.”

His eyes roam my face. My bare neck. The curve of my collarbone where the dress dips.

“You're not wearing your glasses.”

“You told me not to.”

“I didn't think you'd listen.”

“I didn't think I would either.”

Something shifts in his expression. A crack in the playboy mask. For half a second, he looks almost human.

Then the mask snaps back.

“Come on,” he says. “I want to show you something.”

8:30 PM – The Bedroom

Dylan's bedroom is bigger than my entire dorm.

A king bed with black sheets. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake. A guitar in the corner that I bet he doesn't actually play.

He closes the door behind us.

The music fades to a muffled heartbeat.

“Why am I here, Dylan?”

He doesn't answer. He walks toward me slowly. Predator-slow.

“You ever been kissed, Casey?”

My throat closes. “That's none of your business.”

“I'll take that as a no.”

He stops inches from me. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. My back hits the wall.

“I'm not a charity case,” I whisper.

“No.” His hand comes up. His fingers trace my jaw. “You're a challenge.”

My heart stutters. “What does that mean?”

“It means I've been watching you for three years. You don't talk to anyone. You don't let anyone in. You sit in the back of every class and you write code like you're trying to escape something.”

“I'm not trying to escape.”

“Everyone's trying to escape something.”

His thumb brushes my lower lip.

“Kiss me,” he says.

It's not a question.

Every logical part of my brain is screaming no. This is wrong. This is too fast. I don't know him. He doesn't know me.

But his eyes are green and hungry and I am so tired of being invisible.

I kiss him.

His mouth is hot. Demanding. He tastes like whiskey and mint. His hands slide into my hair, tilting my head back, taking control.

I've never been kissed like this.

Like I'm something to be consumed.

His lips move to my jaw. My throat. The place where my pulse is trying to escape my skin.

“Dylan,” I breathe.

“Shh.”

His hands are on my hips. Pressing me into the wall. His thigh slides between mine.

I should stop this.

I should push him away.

But his mouth is on my collarbone and his fingers are tracing the hem of my dress and for the first time in my life…

I feel seen.

9:00 PM – The Glass Shatters

His phone buzzes.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Dylan pulls back, cursing under his breath. “Ignore it.”

“You should check.”

“It's nothing.”

The phone buzzes again. I glance down at the screen.

A text message.

From: Chase

“We got it on video. She actually bought it. King, you're a legend. $5k coming your way.”

The world stops.

My blood turns to ice.

Dylan sees my face change. He looks down at the phone. His expression flickers, guilt? shame?, and then goes blank.

“Casey”

“Five thousand dollars.”

“It's not what you think.”

“You bet on me.” My voice is hollow. Strange. Like it's coming from someone else's body. “You bet on whether you could get the nerdy scholarship girl to sleep with you.”

“It was a joke. A stupid dare.”

“And the video?” I point to the phone. “Who's watching it right now? Your friends? The whole party?”

Dylan runs a hand through his hair. “I was going to delete it.”

“When?”

Silence.

“When, Dylan?”

He doesn't answer.

Because we both know the truth.

There was never going to be a delete button. I was never going to be anything more than a story he tells at parties. “Remember that time King bagged the weird coding girl?”

I push past him. My hand is on the door.

“Casey…?”

“Don't.”

“Let me explain…”

“You had your chance to explain.” I turn back. My eyes are dry. I refuse to cry in front of him. “You said I was a challenge. I thought you meant something beautiful. But you meant a game.”

Dylan reaches for me. I flinch.

And that's when the door opens.

9:05 PM – The Audience

Sophia is standing in the doorway.

My stepsister. Blonde. Perfect. Smiling like a cat who ate the canary.

Behind her, half the party is crowded into the hallway. Phones out. Recording.

“Oh, Casey.” Sophia's voice drips with fake sympathy. “Did you really think Dylan King wanted you?”

I look at Dylan. He doesn't deny it.

“I helped him pick you out,” Sophia continues. “You were so easy. All I had to do was mention your mom's death, and you fell apart. Dylan knew exactly which wounds to press.”

The crowd laughs.

Someone yells, “Show us the tape!”

Someone else: “Five grand for that? King got robbed.”

Dylan opens his mouth. Closes it.

He won't look at me.

Sophia steps closer. Her voice drops so only I can hear.

“Remember when Mom died and you cried for three months? You're pathetic, Casey. No one will ever love you. Not for real. You're just the sad little nerd who fixes everyone's problems and gets nothing in return.”

I should scream. I should cry. I should slap her perfect face.

But I don't.

Because she's right.

I am pathetic.

I spent four years building walls around my heart, and Dylan King knocked them down in four days. Not because he wanted me. Because he was bored.

I walk through the crowd.

They part for me like I'm contagious.

No one meets my eyes.

When I reach the front door, I hear Dylan's voice behind me.

"Casey. Please."

I don't look back.

10:00 PM – The Drive Home

My hands are steady on the wheel.

That's the thing about hitting rock bottom. You stop shaking. There's nothing left to be afraid of.

My phone buzzes.

Lia: “You okay??”

I don't answer.

I drive to the guest house behind Richard and Sophia's mansion. The place where my mother used to read me bedtime stories before the cancer ate her alive.

I pack one suitcase.

My laptop. Two changes of clothes. My mother's wedding ring.

Everything else stays.

At midnight, I open my scholarship portal.

Aldridge University – Early Admission Acceptance.

Full ride. Room and board included.

I hit ACCEPT.

Then I write a single line of code.

It's a worm. A virus that will crawl through Westbrook Academy's servers and delete every file with my name on it. Every photo. Every record. Every trace of Casey Rhys.

By morning, it will be like I never existed.

I close my laptop.

And for the first time in four years…

I smile.