Read Online The Geek Girl's Guide to Cheerleading by Charity Tahmaseb, Darcy Vance - Free Book Online

O’Hara surrounded by all those men at the picnic. There was Moni, a blond, curly-haired cheerleader version of the perfect Southern belle, enclosed in a circle of adoring geek boys. She turned to one, then another, positively beaming.
    “Hey, guys!” Brian said. “Look who I found.” He sounded like he’d just returned from an Amazon quest with some sort of treasure. Three of the boys in front of me scattered, leaving their chairs empty.
    “Yo, Bethany!” a boy I knew only as Rad Thad said. “Mine doesn’t tip.” To demonstrate, he ground the chair legs into the linoleum. I picked Thad’s untippable seat, and he did a fist-pumping thing that might have been embarrassing—if I hadn’t been so flattered.
    For once no one got into an argument about the latest Dungeons & Dragons campaign. No one mentioned the symbolism in Naruto , either. Instead one boy shyly showed me his manga drawings. I compared notes from Independent Reading with a second boy. He whispered how Pride and Prejudice was secretly one of his favorite books, then begged me not to mention it. He had his “street cred” to think of. I put my hand over my heart and promised. A third boy asked how my latest Life at Prairie Stone column was going.
    Maybe Moni was right. Maybe there was something about donning cheerleading uniforms that transformed us. We were celebrities. Okay, so we were nerd celebrities, but still…
    Just as I was thinking I could get used to it, Todd’s shadow fell across the table. He clutched a thick book to his chest and glowered with all the charm of Darth Vader. “Your column is past due,” he said to me. “The rest of you, impromptu debate practice, Little Theater.”
    A few kids looked his way but didn’t appear all that enthralled about either debate or practice. When no one snapped to attention, Todd added, “Now.”
    Rad Thad jumped up and ran, but toward the soda machine and not out the cafeteria door. When he returned, he handed Moni a fresh Diet Coke.
    Todd folded his arms over his chest and cleared his throat. “I said, Little Theater. Now.” This time only Brian glanced at Todd, and he motioned for him to sit.
    “If anyone is interested in doing something serious,” Todd declared, “something real, you know where I’ll be.”
    “Todd—,” I began. I was about to explain about my Life at Prairie Stone column, but Todd blasted me with a killer look, one that held every ounce of disgust he could muster.
    “I said something serious, something real, Reynolds.” With that he spun, took a few long strides, and collided with Rick Mangers.
    Everyone at Prairie Stone knew Rick, even if they didn’t really know him. He was senior class royalty of the highest rank. Todd stammered an apology, but Rick wasn’t listening. Instead he pushed Todd out of the way, sending him careening into a garbage can. The book Todd was carrying toppled inside. Todd blinked, then rooted through garbage while Rick laughed—or did until a group of girls strolled by, then Rick followed. Todd’s book, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire: Volumes 1–3 , was streaked with ketchup that looked like blood. He turned and marched out of the cafeteria. Without thinking, I sprang up to go after him.
    Brian put a hand on mine. “Don’t,” he said. “He’s so pissed right now, he’ll probably smear that ketchup on you, then go back through the line for mustard.”
    I stared after Todd and willed him to turn around. This space, the geek table and its comforting, abiding acceptance, belonged to him—and him to it. There was no skirt short enough to change that.
     
     
    That night I tucked the pom-poms under my arm and took the school steps two at a time. The wind lifted my long winter coat. Icy air whooshed straight up my legs and made my breath catch in my throat. I turned at the doors, in time to see the brake lights on our ancient Volvo flicker, then Mom was gone. For a minute, I felt empty, despite the pancakes we’d eaten for