Secret Life of a Pretty Nerd

Chapter three

Chapter 3: Flirting with Danger

If my life were a twisted fairytale, Penelope would have fallen into that ditch and died. But no... she was alive, probably laughing, while I drowned in my own silence at the Gunsberg Library, my favorite place in the world.

As soon as I neared the entrance, the familiar scent of old, worn-out pages hit me. It was like breathing in a piece of my home, well, before it down to ashes. Home, Sweet home.

I stepped inside, and there she was—Mrs. Brown, the kindest librarian to ever exist. She was a small woman with warm eyes and silver curls, always wearing the same patient smile.

"Hey, Mrs. Brown! You look really good in that blouse today," I said, pouring on the flattery like I always did. "Blue must be your color."

Her face lit up with amusement as she adjusted her glasses. "Oh, Ari, you charmer. It's always so good to see you, but..." She squinted at the clock behind her, then looked back at me. "Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

I froze for a second, the guilt creeping up on me. But I wasn't going to let a little thing like the truth ruin my escape plan.

“Ohh... umm... My teacher allowed me to leave for a while,” I stammered, scrambling for a plausible excuse. “To do some... scientific research... you know, important stuff."

I thought I was busted for sure. I winced internally, waiting for her to drag me back to school... or worse, report me to my mom.

But she somehow believed my lie. "Scientific research, huh? Your dedication to learning is inspiring," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "That’s why you’re my favorite visitor."

I faked a gasp, dramatically placing a hand over my chest. "Me?! Your favorite?! Don't let the others hear you. They might get jealous," I joked, relieved she wasn’t calling the school or worse—my mom.

Mrs. Brown chuckled softly, waving me off as I headed toward the elevator.

I pressed the button for the rooftop and leaned back against the wall of the small, creaky elevator, waiting for the doors to open.

The rooftop was my little corner of this giant universe where I could pretend the world wasn’t as cruel as it really was. There were no bullies, no mean bitches and no reminders of all the things I had lost. Just the wind, the view, and me.

As the doors opened, I stepped onto the rooftop, letting out a long, slow breath.

I found a guy was already there. Standing against the soft morning sky, was a silhouette—a boy, maybe my age, maybe older. His back was to me, but the relaxed posture and messy hair gave away his identity: teenage boy. I groaned internally. Of all the times and places, the last thing I needed right now was to deal with someone from that species. Boys. They had a way of f*****g everything up.

I turned on my heels, fully intending to leave before he noticed me, but just as I was about to step back into the elevator, his voice rang out.

"Oh, hey! I didn’t know anyone else came up here. Don’t leave," he said, in a tone that almost sounded like a command. He wasn’t asking but telling me to stay. And then there was the accent—a rich British one. It was both refined and a little arrogant, the kind of voice that could say “rubbish” and somehow make it sound like poetry.

I glanced back at him, unsure of what to say. Damn Brits and their sinfully irresistible, sexy accents.

When I didn't reply, he added pleadingly, "Please. Stay."

I turned slowly, intending to tell him off, but the words died on my tongue when I saw his eyes. Those pair of strikingly blue irises. They felt comforting. All my fourteen years on earth, I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything quite like them. It was as if the sky had decided to take up residence in his irises. They pulled me in, making me forget the chaos of the morning and the fire that still burned in the back of my mind.

Against my better judgment, I stopped. I crossed my arms, trying to look tougher than I felt. "I come to this rooftop to think and clear my head. But I can’t do that if someone else is here. This is my happy spot."

He tilted his head slightly, considering me with a playful smile. "Okay… what if we share?"

I scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "No. A happy spot is for one person. And that person is me."

The boy’s grin widened, not at all phased by my blunt rejection. "Well, I’m not leaving."

His confidence was maddening. I found myself smirking in return, placing my hand on my waist like I was ready to challenge him to a duel. "Oh really? You think you can just come in here and take over my space?"

A cheeky grin formed on his gorgeous face, cute dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. "You make it sound like I’m invading your personal kingdom."

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to keep up the tough act, but there was something in his attitude—so sassy, so effortlessly charming—that made it hard to stay mad. He was… fun. Annoying, yes, but fun in a way that made me want to argue with him just to see what he’d say next.

I was gonna leave before, but now that I think about it, I deserve to keep my happy place. I found this spot first, before you. Today’s your first time here, right?”

He shrugged casually, leaning back against the ledge. “I plead the fifth. I won’t answer that question.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t need to. I know it’s your first time here. I’ve never seen you in this library before.”

He chuckled. “Why on earth would I be in a medieval library? What am I? A monk?”

I gasped dramatically. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. How dare you throw shade at the Guntsberg Library?! This is scared ground. All the more reason why you don’t deserve to be here. So, scram! British boy!”

He put his hands up in mock surrender, still smirking. “Before you chase me away, pretty but aggressive stranger, can I at least plead my case?”

Wait... did he just call me pretty? Focus, Arielle! That’s beside the point. I needed to get rid of this freaking intruder, not start catching feelings for him.

"Okay, British Boy. Go on then. You have 30 seconds to convince me on why I should share my safe space with you."

"30 seconds? That's barely anything!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

I pretended to check a watch on my wrist. "You have 20 seconds left. If I were you, I'd get to the story quickly, instead of whining."

He smiled adorably, like he knew he was getting under my skin. “Thank you, Your Honor,” he said, putting on an exaggerated formal tone. “You see, I’m new in town. I was just looking for a place to escape all the noise. Then, I stumbled upon this lovely rooftop. I didn’t mean to intrude on your kingdom, Your Majesty.”

“Nice try, but flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“Oh, but it already has, my princess” he said, that cheeky grin still plastered on his face.

“Well," I said, flipping my hair like I’d seen Penelope do a thousand times, "if you’re not leaving, then you better keep quiet. This rooftop is for thinking, not for chit-chatting with random British boys.”