The Brat and the Brainiac Read online

  “Oh, wow. I didn’t realize pitching was so sciencey.”

  “It is,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s very mathy, too.”

  I give him a playful shove.

  “Shut up. Did my uncle tell you how bad I suck at math?”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah. I’m trying for a B, but I might be lucky to squeak by with a C.”

  “You need someone to help teach you.”

  “That’s what Uncle Tommy says, too. He’s thinking of hiring a tutor for me. Oh, look, he’s calling me. I have to go say hi to the Rankins. Do you know them? Come with.”

  Amanda Rankin praises me for the buffet, and everyone likes their goody bags. She asks me to come help her next time they throw a party, and she’s such a nice person that I promise to.

  The party winds down and people start leaving. Jason and I are sitting on the stairs, and when he realizes it, he says he really ought to go, too.

  “Not yet. Just a little while longer.”

  “Okay. You’re easy to talk to, you know that?”

  “Well, thank you. I like talking to you.”

  “Do you think your uncle would kick my head off if I kissed you?”

  “Not if it’s just a quick sweet kiss.”

  “Sweet kiss?”

  “You know. Like the prince always gives Snow White to wake her up.”

  “Gotcha.”

  He leans in and gives me a soft kiss on the lips and then he draws away.

  “Wait,” I whisper. “That’s not enough.”

  “But you said...”

  “Screw the sweet kiss. Let’s go out back by the pool. It’s darker out there.”

  On the way out, we pass the big plate glass window that shows the pool area. The pool lights are on and we have a full set of those permanent, copper tiki torches lighting up the back yard. We round a corner and I pull open the sliding glass door so we can go outside.

  It’s gotten chilly since the party began, and Jason looks at me doubtfully.

  “Do you have a sweater I can get for you?”

  “No, I’m okay. I figured I can get a quick kiss off you before we go back inside.”

  “Okay.”

  He drags his glasses off and holds them in his hand, and then he pulls me into his arms and up against his chest. I feel good there, and he bends his head to mine. His mouth’s warm and sweet from drinking rum, and I wish he could just stick around and make out with me all night, but I know we’d better make it quick, because Uncle Tommy will come looking for me if we don’t.

  Sure enough, I hear a tapping on the window. I look over and he’s behind the plate glass motioning for us to break it up and come back inside.

  “What?” I ask him, once we’re back inside.

  “The Garrets are leaving. Come and say goodbye. And watch your tone.”

  I do my social duty and Jason stands over there waiting by the plate glass window for me to return. Luckily, the Garrets aren’t too drunk, so we get rid of them quick enough, and then I go rejoin Jason.

  “You guys have a nice house here,” he tells me.

  “Thank you. I’ll bet your place is nice, too.”

  “Yeah. I do like it. It’s got nice landscaping and it’s comfortable inside. Of course, it’s a quarter of the size of this place, but it’s good enough for a single guy like me.”

  I glance up and Uncle Tommy’s watching us again. He doesn’t seem to have liked me kissing Jason for some reason, although he brought him here for the express purpose of making a match between us.

  “Do you really have to go?” I ask him. He looks up and glances at Uncle Tommy, too, and then he takes the hint.

  “Yeah, but I’ll see you next Wednesday. Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Okay. Walk me to the door? We’ll steal a kiss right out from under your uncle’s nose.”

  Jason

  I have no reason to be, since we’ve only just met, but I feel proud of Miranda, and I hope to make her my girlfriend. I’ve never met a girl quite like her before, and I want more of her. It’s torture waiting for our day off, but finally, our first date rolls around. I pick her up early in the afternoon and she’s wearing braids again. They look phenomenal on her.

  “Why are we going to eat with all the old people?” she asks.

  “Because I’m due at the stadium early in the morning.”

  I take a big chance and take her to a chophouse. I’m pleased to find that, not only does she like steak, she orders one and eats it with gusto. We have a good time flirting with each other, and she has a good time flirting with the waiter. I realize pretty early on that she’s just a flirtatious girl and doesn’t mean anything by it, but I still feel a knot of jealousy tighten in my gut when she does it.

  “You didn’t meet Ignatius at the party, did you? The gorgeous Greek guy with the beautiful blue eyes? I think he was busy working in the kitchen the whole time. Usually we have more people doing the little stuff, but some of them called in sick, so he had to handle things himself.”

  “And you’re telling me about him why?”

  “Because he’s my best friend. You’ve got to meet him. He’s too crazy.”

  The jealousy clicks up a notch, until she tells me the next part.

  “He’s got a new boyfriend who’s the spitting image of David Lee Roth when he was young.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. We met him a couple of weeks ago at the club. He’s a really nice blond-haired kid about my age, the dead opposite of Ignatius.”

  “You sound like you really like this Ignatius guy.”

  “I do. He’s a little bit like Uncle Tommy. He looks after me a lot. In fact, he took care of me as a kid when Uncle Tommy had to be away.”

  “Well, if you like him, he must be a cool guy.”

  “Oh, he is. Who’s your best friend?”

  “A guy named Benny back home in Chicago.”

  “Eww. I hate snow places.”

  “It’s not always snowy,” I tell her. “Didn’t you ever go out there with your uncle on a road trip?”

  “Yeah, but it was summer and it rained a lot.”

  “Yep. That’s Chicago.”

  “Do you ever want to go back there to live?”

  “Not really. Turns out, I don’t like the snow, either. It gets cold as hell out there. The last winter I was there it was sixty-five below zero with the wind-chill. That’s when I seriously started looking for a job on the coast.”

  She dimple-smiles and says, “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  We finish our steaks and she passes on dessert, so I do, too.

  “What do you want to do now?” I ask her. “Catch a movie?”

  “Can we go to your place? I want to see where you live.”

  “It’s just a small condo. It’s not very interesting.”

  “Are you kidding?” she asks me. “Most of my old boyfriends live in the dorm or at home.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot you’re still in college.”

  “Yeah, until next year.”

  “What’s your major?”

  “Boring old Business. I’m thinking of changing to English Lit, though.”

  “English Lit? Why’s that?”

  “Because I think I want to be a writer,” she says. “Ignatius thinks Uncle Tommy will get mad, but I don’t care. He’s got to stop running my life so much.”

  I sit back then, certain Tommy only invited me to his house to meet Miranda. I’m not too sure how I feel about that (except for really liking her, of course.)

  “He does try to run your life a lot,” I say, thinking about our conversation in his study. “Finish your drink.”

  “You’ll let me see your place?”

  “Yes, but only for a little bit. I have to be up very early.”

  I take her back to my place, and she seems charmed by the courtyard, just like I hoped she’d be.

  “Azaleas? How pretty. Oh, my God, a Japanese elm. I’ve alway
s wanted one.”

  “Gardenias, too, and roses. I don’t know what those over there are,” I say, pointing at the bush with the small lavender flowers on it.

  “I don’t know, either, but I love the color.”

  “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

  I unlock the door and hold it open for her to enter. She stands just inside the doorway, waiting for me to come in and turn on the light. When I do, she looks around, interested.

  “Nice. Nice and clean. I like that.”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of OCD about that.”

  “Good. That’s a good thing to be OCD about. You should see some of those dorm rooms.”

  She shudders at the thought, and the knot in my stomach is back. I hate hearing about the dorm rooms, because it makes me picture her in some dumbass Junior’s twin-sized bed, under the comforter purchased by the guy’s mom.

  “Jeez, I hope they wash the sheets,” I tell her.

  “Good God, yes. I only got between them if they were clean.”

  “How much experience do you have, anyway, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Um, I don’t know. Like, maybe eight guys? I’m clean, though. I always make sure they use a condom and I get tested twice a year. So far, nothing.”

  “Would you mind if we get tested together?” I ask

  She dimple-smiles again.

  “Why? Do you like me?”

  “Hold on,” I say, taking off my glasses and setting them aside on the recently dusted end table. I drag her into my arms to finish the kiss that got interrupted the other night at the party. She feels good in my embrace and she’s a good kisser, not all slobbery like my last girlfriend.

  “What do you think?” I ask. “Do you think I like you now?”

  “When can we make the appointment?”

  I kiss her again. This having to be tested first gives me a good excuse not to sleep with her tonight, even though I want to down to my soul.

  “What I really mean is, you see your doctor and I’ll see mine, and we’ll both show each other our results.”

  “Okay. Cool. Fair enough. So, do I get the grand tour, or what?”

  “Yeah,” I say, grabbing my glasses and putting them back on. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the place.”

  She follows me into the kitchen, and her inquisitive nature prods her into opening every cupboard and drawer in there. She lingers long over this task, and before I know it, she’s checking out my dinky little refrigerator, one that’s probably half the size of what they have.

  “Does it meet with your approval?” I ask.

  “Yes, of course,” she tells me. “Let’s hit the linen closet.”

  It’s nice to know she takes such an interest in housekeeping, because having an organized girlfriend exactly suits my personality.

  “You only have two sets of sheets?” she asks me.

  “One to wash and one to put on the bed.”

  She nods and digs a little deeper. I feel a blush steal over my face when she pulls out one of my raggedy old towels and inspects it.

  “They suck,” I admit. “I know. I need to get some new ones.”

  “You can always donate these to the car wash.”

  I don’t say anything else, but she must sense my discomfort, because she folds the towel up neatly and puts it back where she found it.

  “I’m sorry,” she tells me. “I’m not trying to embarrass you.”

  “No, I know.”

  “What else?” she asks. “Are you going to show me your bedroom?”

  “Yes, but don’t get any ideas. We have to do our STD tests first.”

  “You really are OCD.”

  I give her hand a squeeze and lead her off toward the back of my condo.

  “Here’s how you’ll know I really like you,” I tell her. “I’m afraid of needles, but I’m willingly going to go get stuck, just for you.”

  She laughs and gives me a hug, and when she lets go, I take her and show her my home office, where I keep all my sci-fi movie memorabilia on shelves on the wall over my computer. I glance at her to see what she thinks, but she doesn’t seem to have an opinion about it one way or the other.

  “Want to go look at my bedroom?”

  “Yes.”

  When I lead her over the threshold, she rushes forward and goes and bounces on my bed.

  “Ooh. Nice and springy.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Can I look in your closet?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  She gets up and crosses the room, and then she throws open the closet door dramatically.

  “What’ve we got here?” she asks, stepping inside. I think it’ll be a short inspection, but then she starts playing with my clothes, checking out which shirts go with which pants, and matching up my shoes and belts. She puts together a couple of combinations I’ve never thought of before, and I watch her with interest.

  “Now, if you put this tie with this blazer, and then these pants...”

  “Miranda.”

  “Do you have any pocket squares?”

  “Are you kidding me? They’d laugh me out of the stadium if I suddenly showed up wearing a pocket square.”

  “I’ve seen other men do it.”

  “Yeah, all the old-timers. Nobody young.”

  “Well, they should bring it back.”

  “They should bring back crinolines and big, poufy skirts, too, but they don’t.”

  She giggles.

  “I’m surprised you even know what a crinoline is.”

  “I have three sisters. Another reason I left Chicago. Come on. Let’s get out of this closet.”

  She follows me out, but she looks at me gravely.

  “You don’t like women, then?” she asks me, shaking her head.

  “Yes, but my sisters are all a pain in the ass. Except the youngest. She’s not too bad.”

  “How old is she?”

  “About your age.”

  “So, no offense, but does the last name work against you?”

  “Weed? Yeah. Not too many girls want to be stuck with a Weed.”

  “Why not?” she asks me. “I think it’s a nice name.”

  “You’re trying to make me kiss you again, aren’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t mind.”

  I throw my glasses down onto the bed and drag her into my arms once more, kissing her hard, slow and deep. She slips her arms around my neck and caresses the back of my head, and her touch makes me shiver.

  I break off the kiss and say, “I’d better take you home now.”

  “No. Not right now,” she tells me.

  “Yes, right now. You’re too tempting.”

  “Kiss me one more time, then I’ll go peacefully.”

  “All right, but just once.”

  I lean my head down and give her a perfunctory kiss on the forehead.

  “Okay. Now let’s go.”

  “Rip off.”

  Once we’re in my car, she’s quiet. I stick the key in the ignition, and I’m just ready to turn it when she speaks.

  “So, no go?”

  “What?” I say, dropping my hand and blinking at her.

  “I mean, you really don’t like me that much, do you?”

  I draw my eyebrows together, and then I lift them. “How can you even say that?” I ask her.

  “The way you rushed me out of your house, for one.”

  “You think that was so I could get rid of you? I was just afraid if I kissed you again, I’d go too far.”

  She grins. “For real?”

  “Yes.”

  She reaches across the car and gives my hand a squeeze, and I lift hers to my lips to kiss its silky softness. She flips one of her braids over her shoulder with her free hand.

  “I like you,” she tells me.

  “Yeah? Do you want to go out again? I get one more day off before the road trip.”

  “Okay. And my test results should be back by then, so...”

  “I’ll try
to have mine, Miranda, but I have a pretty full week ahead of me, so I can’t promise anything.”

  “Well, here, give me your phone.”

  “For?”

  “So I can put my number in it, dummy.”

  “Dummy? Just for that, I’m not giving it to you.”

  “Jason Weed, you are some little tease, you know that?”

  “And you’re some little minx. Someone ought to put you over their knee and spank that sass right out of you.”

  Her face turns red and she sort of turns away, but she plays with her braid and answers in a husky voice.

  “Well, maybe if you’re a really good boy, I’ll let you do it.”

  Now I’m the one blushing, and I gaze out the windshield, thrown off my stride. The vision of me actually spanking her bare bottom strikes me hard, and I realize I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel. I relax my hands, wondering if she’s kidding or not, but afraid to look. I hand her my phone, and she puts her number in it. She dials her own phone and lets it go to voicemail, and when she hands it back, I turn the key and fire up the car, backing out of the parking space. I avoid her gaze, and once we’re out on the road, she speaks.

  “What do you read, big guy?”

  “Sci-fi. What about you?”

  “Oh, minimalist books for sure. And I like a lot of horror, too. Just no torture porn.”

  I nod, but I don’t know what she means by minimalist, not when it comes to literature.

  “What about movies?” I ask her.

  “Comedies.”

  “That reminds me. What makes you dress so severely when you’re really so bubbly?”

  “It’s part of my sex appeal, silly. It’s unexpected, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well, it really works for you. So, have you got a nickname or anything?”

  “Ignatius calls me Nanda, but Uncle Tommy calls me Brat.”

  “I can see why,” I say with a chuckle.

  She pouts, but in a completely sexy and non-serious way. She’s fondling her braid again and I let her, the thought of spanking her flashing through my mind once more. I can practically see her bare little bottom and those braids hanging down, almost touching the floor. I shake the vision off, and before I know it, we’re back at her place. Walking her to the door, I give her a big kiss, and then I let her slip out of my arms and start inside. I stand there a moment, smiling after her and savoring her sweetness, and she turns around before she goes inside.