Mr. Popular And His Nerdy Sister novel Chapter 3

Maybe it was not the worst day, but it was a close second.

Crawling under the warm covers, I cry myself to sleep praying that I would wake up in my own bed back in Raleigh. I wanted this nightmare to be over.

Friends with the rival

The sound of someone knocking on my door wakes me from my deep sleep. Yawning, I stretch my arms and legs before placing my black-rimmed glasses on my face. Everything is clear now; I feel blind without my glasses. What annoys me is when people hold up their hand and ask how many fingers they are holding up. Everything is blurry, it's not like I can't count-well, unless you're pretty far away then it becomes a big blurry mess. Sorry for going on a little rant.

The morning sun peeks through the navy blue curtains that hang from a silver rod above my double windows. The birds sing happily right outside my window making me miss home. Back home in Raleigh, the birds would chirp all day. My mother and I would sit outside on the swings and listen to them. The summer breeze and sun welcomed us every morning as mom sipped her coffee and I drank my chocolate milk.

"Marley, please let me in," the sound of my brother's voice seeps through the door breaking me from my pleasant memory. I would have been happy to hear his voice if it were not for the fact that he was being a jerk last night. Honestly, I don't understand why he did what he did.

"Go away, jerk face," I call out. Real mature, I know. He really hurt my feelings last night. I just feel like using names will make me feel better. It did, kind of.

"Mar, I am really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Calling me a nobody was meant to not hurt my feelings? He goes silent for a few minutes. I guess he gave up and realized that I will not let him in. But boy am I wrong. The doorknob jiggles and then the door opens revealing my disheveled brother with a screwdriver in hand.

His brown hair is sticking in all directions-it looks like a combination of bed head and like he has been running his hand through his hair. His red shirt and grey sweatpants are wrinkled from a long and restless nights sleep. Serves him right. But he is your brother, Marley, be nice. Ugh, the internal battle begins.

"Mar, please hear me out," he steps in my room and closes the door behind him. I eye the screwdriver hoping he does not decide to kill me. Okay, that may be a bit much, but apparently I don't even know the guy. Following my line of sight, he realizes I'm on edge about the screwdriver, and he places the metal tool down on my desk by my door.

Hugging the comforter, I sit up as Conner situates himself on the bed in front of me. He runs his hand through his hair messing it up even more. "Mar," he starts but pauses trying to find the right words to say. "I'm so sorry. I should not have acted like that last night, but." Of course there is a but. He sighs before starting again, "The people I hang out with are different from you. They are popular and-"

"-I'm not." I finish for him. He grimaces. "Conner, you don't know me. It's been ten years! How could you possibly know me?" I use my hands to talk. "You are just stereotyping me and it isn't fair!" I huff.

I have been very busy and I am sorry that I have not been able to see you. Here is a credit card for you to go buy some school supplies and new clothes for school. I hope to see you soon.

-Dad.

Grabbing the credit card and note, I make my way back upstairs to get ready for the day. I basically live in my room because I don't leave unless it is to get food or go to the bathroom. Conner and I have not spoken since that incident, and I don't plan on speaking to him anytime soon, though I really want to catch up with him about his life and tell him about mine.

I pull out my light blue denim jeans and pull them on. My dark grey shirt sticks out of my drawer so I decide to wear that shirt. Pulling my hair to the side of my face, I braid the blonde mess hoping that I will look decent. I push up my glasses before I grab my grey converse and slide them on. Looking in the mirror, I make a face. I guess this'll do.

Alright, I am ready to go. I have my bag with everything I need, including the credit card.

John offers to drive me to the stores of my choice, but I decline wanting to walk and take the bus. I do not want to step foot in that flashy limo again, though I do like it, it just it is too flashy for me. The bus wouldn't be my first choice if I had an option between that or a car.