All Geek to Me Read online

  All Geek To Me

  Allie York

  Contents

  1. Noralee

  2. Noralee

  3. Noralee

  4. Noralee

  5. Wyatt

  6. Noralee

  7. Noralee

  8. Noralee

  9. Noralee

  10. Wyatt

  11. Noralee

  12. Noralee

  13. Noralee

  14. Noralee

  15. Noralee

  16. Wyatt:

  17. Noralee

  18. Noralee

  19. Noralee

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Allie York

  Copyright © 2020 by Allie York

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Dedication:

  To all the nerds out there, just trying to find their person

  1

  Noralee

  I’m starting to feel like we have the same argument every single week, but so far, none of us have a solution. “You’re getting bored with the monotony and that’s okay, Noralee.” Greer is the only one in the group who uses my full name. It’s super irritating.

  “I love my job. I’m not bored.” I roll my eyes and check the timer on the cookies.

  “What if we host a speed dating? I mean, it’s almost Valentine’s Day.” Tuesday reaches for a cookie and I bring my spatula down on her knuckles. She lets out a yelp and jerks her hand back. “What the hell?!”

  “You know better than to touch the cookies.” Rae glances up from her phone and winks at me. It’s our Wednesday night ritual. I make cookies for the Dungeons and Dragons tournament the next night and we all watch an old horror movie together. Even before we hosted D & D, hell, before I even owned a comic shop, we had cookie and movie night. Tonight, we are being entertained by none other than The Creature from the Black Lagoon and the cookies are all shaped like the Death Star.

  “That’s going to bruise, Nora!” Tuesday shakes out her injured hand. “You know I bruise easily.” Her twin sister, Greer, snorts a laugh from her seat on the island stool. Rae is on the island, feet dangling and angled so she can see the oven and the TV, but she’s staring at her phone. Tuesday moves away from me, not taking her eyes off my spatula as she grabs an icepack from the freezer.

  “Don’t be dramatic.” Greer tosses a piece of popcorn at her sister and it sticks in her bangs. Tuesday gives us all her best ‘I am not amused’ look, but her light brown eyes hint at a smile.

  “That hurt, but like I was saying before Nora assaulted me, we should do speed dating. Like every Friday night between now and Valentine’s Day have everyone fill out a questionnaire and do speed dating. Take reservations so you know there are even pairs and we can start advertising tomorrow.” Tuesday’s voice trails off when she looks up from her iced knuckles to see our blank faces. Tuesday is a smart girl when it comes to marketing and advertising, she’s great with people, and she can organize a project like a boss. She is not, however, an idea person. While she’s great at running the cafe in my comic shop, she is not the one who decided it should be there or what to call it. For Tuesday to have an original idea is a little shocking. Rae even pauses her game to blink at Tuesday. Her eyes go from mine to where her long legs are kicked out in front of her.

  “That is a great idea,” Rae finally chimes in, setting her phone next to her on the counter and spinning to face me. “Think about it. Three weeks until Valentine’s Day and we could host three speed dates. I can whip up a questionnaire to get a general feel for preferences and fandoms and stuff. Tuesday can make those sandwiches that always sell out, and Greer can design the fliers. I’ll even MC.” Rae is the highest viewed professional gamer on Glitch, a game streaming site that rivals YouTube.

  “This sounds like a lot of work.” Words for Nerds is the only comic or game shop in a forty-mile radius that isn’t a big box store, so we stay busy, and by busy, I mean we stay slammed. I absentmindedly pick up a Death Star cookie and take a bite. Sugar cookies are my weakness.

  “It’s only three nights and it might bring in some new customers.” Greer already has a napkin spread on the table and has pulled out one of her Sharpies. A curtain of brown hair falls from her head to the countertop while she works.

  I’ve known the twins since they moved in next door when we were five. Back then they looked nearly identical, but now the two women are not your typical twins. Greer stopped getting taller in seventh grade, maxing out at five-four, but I’m pretty sure Tuesday adds an inch every couple of years. She’s five-ten and thinner than the rest of us. They have the same heart shaped faces with big eyes and full lips. You can tell they’re sisters, it’s the twin part that throws everyone off.

  Greer holds up her creation and I have to admit, it’s impressive. A comic sound bubble with my logo inside is surrounded by hearts and the perfect lines to hook our demographic. Just in time for Valentine’s Day: “Meet the Mulder to your Scully, the MJ to your Peter Parker, or the Han to your Leia at Words for Nerds Comics. Our first annual speed dating event will take place January 26th, February 2nd, and February 9th beginning at 7pm and running until nine. Bring your favorite quill and parchment to take notes and numbers. Snacks are included in the $5 entrance fee.” Random parts of the makeshift flier are surrounded by a comic thought cloud or a heart.

  “I can add a little color and make copies. Five bucks should cover the food and I bet we get a turn out.” Greer dangles the napkin in my face and bats her lashes.

  Rae snatches it and pushes her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose. “I love it.” She hands the napkin to Tuesday, who can suddenly use her fingers again.

  “You earned a cookie.” I relent and Tuesday snatches up two, shoving them both in her mouth at the same time. “I still think it’s a lot to take on, but if you guys are willing to help, I’m down.”

  Greer squeals and grabs the napkin from her sister. Rae holds up a hand for Tuesday to high five and the sound echoes through the kitchen as the timer dings for my second batch of cookies. “Where are we hanging fliers? And when? That gives us a day and a half to advertise.” I look to Tuesday on this one. She’s the marketing genius.

  “Bookstore.” Her eyes dart to Rae and her cheeks tinge pink. Rae’s brother Leo manages the bookstore and Tuesday is not-so-secretly in love with him. “Here, of course, all the social media pages, next door at the salon, and for sure at the grocery store.” I thought about the businesses nearby. Words for Nerds is wedged in between a salon and a pet boutique.

  “I know it sounds like work, but I think it’ll be fun.” Rae has her phone sideways, thumbs flying on the screen. The gamer in her never sleeps.

  “Are you signing up?” I ask. Rae’s thumbs freeze and her light gray eyes lift to me in the best death stare since Luigi in Mario Kart.

  “Why would I do that?” She blinks and goes back to her game. “I told you, I’ll MC as long as I can video and put it on my channel as extra content. Make sure it’s in the waiver that they consent to appear on YouTube.”

  “You can still do one round. You’re single so why not?” Greer gives me a conspiratorial wink.

  “By that rationale we can all do it.” Rae rolls her eyes, not bothering to stop her game. Greer opens her mouth and Rae throws her hand up. “Until he knows all our names, he is not your boyfriend. The guy is a raging douche and you know he’s playing with his joystick in more games than yours.” Rae goes back to her game like she didn’t just say what we were all thinking. Greer’s ‘boyfriend’ Nate, or Nick or whatever, is a promoter for
some local band and is never in town. Or maybe he is and just doesn’t tell her. Either way, he’s a piece of shit.

  “I do have a boyfriend, and I’m not signing up for speed dating while Neal is out of town.” Even her sister rolls her eyes. “Leave my personal life out of this.” Greer tosses her hair back and hops off the stool to grab her bag. Neal, that’s his name.

  “Fine, but I won’t call him your boyfriend until you two have the talk.” Rae tips her phone and leans into it, the tip of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth and her brows furrowed. It's the look she gets when she’s about to lose.

  “The talk?” I ask, checking to see if the cookies are cooled enough and getting the next batch ready. Greer returns with her sketch book and gets to work with her Sharpies, ignoring the conversation.

  “Yeah, the talk. Damn it!” Rae tosses her phone roughly on the counter. “Sorry, I’m a sore loser. The talk where you define your relationship. We live in a hook-up culture and if one wants to enter a relationship, you have to define it so both parties know that it’s more than casual sex. Has it really been that long since you’ve dated?”

  It’s my turn to death glare. “You know damn well it’s been even longer.”

  “Right, so couples have to have the talk now to define where they stand and that solidifies it as a relationship. Greer and Neal have not done this, so there is no expectation of fidelity and he is using that joystick for more consoles than just hers.” And another mic drop from Rae.

  “Here’s a final draft. What do you think?” Greer is the queen of ignoring our jabs about her ‘boyfriend’ and also the queen of creating graphics. The Sharpie on sketch paper is perfect. Blue, red, and yellow comic pop art declare this Friday the first speed dating at Words for Nerds Comics.

  “We aren’t done talking about Neal, but I love it. What do you think, Nora?” Rae drops the paper on the counter in front of me and goes back after her phone.

  “It’s perfect. I’ll go make copies and we can restart the movie none of us are watching.” I take the paper from the kitchen island. “Tuesday, grab the cookies from the oven.” With that I leave my friends upstairs to go down and make copies. I’m just thankful that we got away from the conversation about my terminal single status. I haven’t had a living, breathing source of orgasms in almost three years, not since my parents retired to Florida and left me Words for Nerds. Since then it’s been all work and no play for me. I converted the attic into my studio apartment, and we went from a small space only selling comics and the occasional nerdy t-shirt to acquiring the neighboring space and hosting weekly D & D meetings. We sell comics, graphic novels, clothing, video games, and have an entire line of collectible toys. Rae has a walk-in closet that she outfitted to be soundproof for her live streams and it has enough space for two other people to game with her. Last year, Tuesday helped me out in ‘Second Breakfast’ a mini cafe with a coffee bar specializing in nerd-themed drinks and snacks. In the strip mall where Words for Nerds is located, we have it all. A sandwich place, frozen yogurt, a salon, a pet boutique, and across the street is the two-story used bookstore. What else could you need? My professional life has left me with very little time for getting laid, or even going on a date. Living above my job makes going out for anything other than toilet paper nonexistent. My friends love to remind me of this despite the fact that they aren’t getting laid either.

  Downstairs, I flick on the light over the front desk and promptly run my hip into the corner. “Shit!” I double over and drop the paper on the floor. The desk hasn’t moved in my entire lifetime and I still hit my hip on it at least once a week. I take a slow breath to recover and open my copier, making sure to give the three-finger salute to our life-sized Katniss cutout next to the stairs. A car pulls into a spot near the front of our glass doors, casting a blue flash of light inside for a brief second before the car turns off. I put the handmade flier in the copier and print thirty copies. While the printer makes its rhythmic noise, I pick up the duster and start on the desk. Inside it, we keep our more expensive figures, super vintage comics, limited print books, and signed memorabilia. The printer goes silent, then beeps for me to reload the paper tray. I do. It’s after I press the button to restart the copy process that I hear the sharp bang from outside. I try to look but see nothing other than darkness. Having the light on inside means I can’t see out, because science. The printer spits out the last flier and I look them over.

  Greer is hands down the most talented artist I know. I can’t understand how she hasn’t secured a job as an artist, but I guess I should just enjoy having her here until that happens. It’s only a matter of time. The car that lit up my storefront starts and quickly peels out of the parking lot, likely leaving skid marks in its wake. It almost sounded like they slammed the trunk, but again, couldn’t see. It’s not unusual for people to stop in our lot after hours to sort out business, make a phone call, or whatever. It’s relatively well-lit and public.

  I wait for more commotion outside, but nothing happens. I take my stack of fliers flip the light off and do a scan of the parking lot in the darkness. Nothing. With a shrug I head back up to make sure my friends haven’t burned all the cookies for D & D tomorrow. All three of them are easily distracted, so odds are not in favor of my cookies. Which means they will restart the movie and pile on my futon while I bake more. I don’t smell smoke or hear my smoke alarm on the way up, so that’s a good sign.

  “No cookie casualties.” Rae announces without looking up from her phone. She’s moved from the edge of my counter to a stool, and a half-eaten cookie is on the counter next to her.

  “Except the one you ate,” I retort. Rae is the worst about eating my cookies. How she stays thin is beyond my comprehension.

  “Official taste tester.” She shrugs.

  “Official pain in my ass.” I roll my eyes.

  “Fliers turn out okay?” Greer is so humble about her talents that it’s almost annoying. Tuesday trips over the corner of my futon and catches herself in a rush to come see the fliers.

  “Maybe I’ll sign up.” Tuesday holds up the paper to admire her sister’s work. “This is crazy good.”

  “They look professional,” I agree. “I’ll go before we open and put them up at the bookstore and the rest of the strip. Even if we don’t get a huge turnout in two days, the next one will be bigger, and the third will be…”

  “A ton of nerds desperate for dates for Valentine’s Day.” Rae cuts me off, taking the last bite of her cookie and tossing it in the air. She catches it in her mouth and smiles, adjusting her glasses.

  “Yes, a ton of nerds who need dates.” I snag a cookie, accidentally hitting the pan with my knuckle and sending a searing pain up to my elbow. I immediately turn on the cool water and run my finger under the stream, watching the blister form.

  “Did you burn yourself?” Rae tries to look around me.

  “No!” I lie and pat my hand dry with my Gryffindor hand towel.

  “Liar! You are incapable of making cookies and not burning yourself at least once,” Tuesday calls out.

  “I didn’t!” I’ll need aloe for that later. I shove half in my mouth before motioning for the TV. “Let’s watch!” I yell with my mouth full of Death Star cookie. The four of us pile on the couch like we do every Wednesday night and Rae takes the remote. I flip my head over and pull my mass of black waves into a bun before giving Rae the okay to play the movie.

  “Wait!” Tuesday leaps off the couch, throwing my Gryffindor blanket to the floor in the process. She quickly picks it up before I can kill her and runs to the kitchen. I hear the fridge then the cabinets open then the sound of glasses clinking together. “Wine!” In three long strides she’s back at the futon and wedging between me and Greer, passing out the glasses. After pulling out the cork, she fills our glasses and Rae presses play. Another movie night on the books.

  2

  Noralee

  The morning after movie night is always interesting. It involves three of us s
tumbling through my one-bedroom apartment while trying to not wake up Rae, who is asleep on the futon. Good thing for us that our commute only involves walking downstairs. Bad thing for Rae because none of us can be even remotely quiet. I get up first, make an entire pot of coffee because I know they’ll drink it, and stumble into the shower. My showers are a little different than those of my house guests. My hair requires mass quantities of conditioner and a diffuser so that I don’t look like a bridge troll. A lion’s mane of curls is a blessing and a curse. I put on my favorite ripped skinny jeans, my 1977 Star Wars shirt, my Millennium Falcon cardigan, and black ankle boots. I manage to wrangle my hair into a high ponytail before Tuesday is out of the shower.

  “Get out!” Tuesday shoves at me when she steps out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her.

  “It’s my bathroom!” I whisper-shout, grabbing my lip gloss.

  “I’m naked.” She is very much still not awake, even after her shower.

  “I’ve seen boobs before.” I reach for my mascara, but get shoved out, tripping over my own feet and into the wall. The door slams in my face. “Fine!”

  I leave my friends to finish their routine and make it downstairs, Harry Potter thermos of coffee in hand, and turn on the computer. I don’t bother with the lights yet. I salute Katniss and immediately get that eerie feeling of being watched. The prickle runs up my spine to my neck, making the hair stand. I start at the back of the store and scan slowly, my heart threatening to escape my chest. My gaze gets to the front door and I jump, letting out a squeal. The man with his hands cupped over his eyes at the front door could be the reason for my creepy feeling and for scaring the shit out of me. Not just any man. He’s a cop. I watch him stupidly for a second, thinking maybe he’s just checking the place out, but then he knocks and motions for me to come open the door. I don’t move. I’m too busy remembering how to breathe and trying to get my heart to slow down. A deep breath helps me focus and get my body back under control. Nothing like a good scare first thing in the morning. There’s barely any light outside, but it’s dark enough inside to see out. He’s wearing the typical black police uniform—which fits him better than most uniforms I’ve seen—a badge on his chest, and black boots. Not that I spend a lot of time with the fine officers of East Hollow, but I’d have noticed them more if they looked this good. The long sleeves bulge around his biceps and he’s taller than the Deadpool cut out by the door, so my guess is he’s at least six-three. In short, the man who scared the crap out of me is hot as hell.