Chapter 16 I’m Not A Nerd
WREN
Ihesitate before answering his question. Tonight has been a little strange—but nice. I could have done without him catching me dancing, or burning dinner, but I don’t hate hanging out with him, and the pizza is good.
“My younger brother had an accident six years ago and requires a lot of help. After it happened, I felt obligated to be there everyday and to help my parents. I really threw myself into caring for him and helping them. I still struggle with it sometimes, but moving out and living somewhere else was a big step for me.”
His face falls. “I didn’t know that,” he says. “Here you are dealing with real shit, and I’m complaining about being a nepo baby.”
“I didn’t take it that way. Just because my family stuff sounds more tragic, that doesn’t make the way you’re feeling about your stuff less valid.”
“Is he okay? Your brother?”
“He’s doing okay now considering everything he’s been through. The accident left him with a brain and a spinal cord injury, so he’s in a wheelchair, and he uses a computer to talk.”
“What happened?” He looks a little nervous. “Is that okay to ask?”
“Yeah. Um, he was in high school, and was decorating for the homecoming dance. They had propped one of those really tall ladders against the retracted bleachers, and it wasn’t stable.” My voice shakes a little as I tell the story. “When he climbed to the top to hang a backdrop, he fell.”
His eyes go wide. “Oh, my god, Wren. That’s terrible.”
“Yeah, it was really bad. We almost lost him, but we didn’t.” I play with the hair tie around my wrist. This isn’t the first time I’ve explained what happened to him to someone, but it always brings up the emotions associated with it.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this,” he says. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t. It’s just hard to remember.”
“Will you tell me more about him?”
The question takes me by surprise. I’m used to people feeling bad for my family. I’m used to hearing their apologies and being told we’re in their prayers, but I’m not used to people wanting to get to know about my brother.
“He’s really funny, and he loves to curse. He was seventeen when it happened, so he still acts a lot like a teenager, and he likes the same things. We watch a lot of Marvel movies.”
“I fucking love Marvel. What’s his favorite?”
“We watch them all, but lately he’s been on an OG Iron Man kick.”
“Wait, is that why you knew the answer to the trivia question this summer?” he asks.
My mind drifts back to trivia night and how Tanner and I were the only two who knew which song played in Guardians Of The Galaxy and Reservoir Dogs.
An unwanted thought of him flirting shamelessly with the waitress assaults my memory, and I try to push it away.
He’s being nice, and I’m living with him now.
I should try to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Oh, yeah. Guardians is one of Cody’s favorites. I think I have that movie memorized. I’ve seen it so many times. The soundtrack is great too.”
“Your brother has good taste. If I had to rate my top five it would be Thor: Ragnarok as number five, then Guardians of the Galaxy: Volume 1, then Avengers: Infinity War, then Black Panther, and then Iron Man.”
I grab another slice of pizza, staring at him in disbelief while I chew.
“Did you see they’re bringing back RDJ as Doctor Doom? I’m not convinced it’s a good idea, but I guess we’ll see,” he says.
“RDJ?”
“Robert Downey Junior,” he says.
“Yes, I know who the actor is, but I’m confused as to why him being cast in a role is bad.”
“I just don’t understand how you use the same actor for two roles in the same universe.” He takes a long sip of his beer. “Like, are they going to try to say Tony Stark didn’t die and he’s now the villain?”
“Are you actually discussing Marvel movies with me?”
“Yeah. What? Is it that hard to believe I like superheroes?”
I laugh out loud. “I mean you look like one, so I guess not.” My whole face heats the minute the words fall out of my mouth.
“You think I look like a superhero?” He smirks, and I wish more than anything I could go back in time and not say it.
“No, I just meant…your hair. It’s like Thor’s. It was meant to be a joke; don’t let it go to your head.”
“Sure,” he says, taking a long pull from his beer. “I’m actually a very big Marvel fan. I’ve seen every movie.”
“Don’t tell me you have a gigantic comic book collection too?” I tease.
“No, it’s not gigantic” he argues. His cheeks turn beat red, and he grabs another slice of pizza.
“Oh, my god! You totally have a gigantic comic book collection, don’t you? Are you a secret nerd?” I gasp.
“I’m not a nerd.”
“Says the guy who just listed off his top five Marvel movies without being asked, has an opinion about the actor playing a fictional villain, and has comic books hiding under his bed.”
He blushes again. “I would never store them under my bed.”
“Oh, you are a nerd.” I cover my mouth with my hand. “I don’t mean it in a bad way. I think it’s endearing.”
“Endearing?” he questions.
“Yeah, endearing.”
“Would you want to see my collection?”
“Sure.” I giggle in disbelief. He stands, goes into the kitchen to wash his hands, and then jogs into his room. After a minute, he returns with a stack of comic books. Each one is placed inside a clear protective wrapping, and the one on the bottom of the stack is framed.
He takes his time, showing me each one, telling me what makes it special. He seems like a completely different person when he’s talking about them, and I hardly recognize the man in front of me.
Maybe I had him all wrong?
There must be a least fifteen spread out across the floor when he’s done, and I have a sneaky suspicion there’s more in his room, but this is him attempting to play it cool.
I wonder if anyone else knows he likes them this much, or if this is something just for him, and if it is, then why is he sharing it with me?
The final framed book has a large signature on the front.
“Who’s Tanlee?” I ask through a yawn, trying to read the signature.
“Tanlee?” He gasps, and his eyes go wide. “Did you just ask me who’s Tanlee?”
“Yeah, am I supposed to know?” I study the name a little closer, but it’s hard to read.
“It says Stan Lee!” He laughs and looks at me like I should know who he’s talking about. “The creator of Marvel. You don’t know who Stan Lee is? He’s literally in every movie.” His face twists.
“Oh, no. I mean, maybe it sounds familiar.” I shrug. “So, I guess that one is a really cool one to have?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “My grandfather gave it to me for my thirteenth birthday.”
“I bet Cody would know what you’re talking about.” I finish the last of my drink and set the can on the coffee table.
“If your brother ever wanted to see it, I’d be happy to show him. I’m sure he’d get a kick out of you calling Stan Lee, Tanlee.”
My stomach does a flip with his offer. Weird. It feels like butterflies, but that would mean… No. That's impossible. It has to be the pizza. The chicken was a little weird, tasted a little too much like chicken. I try to shake the feeling, but it doesn’t go away. I should go to bed.
“What’s that look on your face?” he asks.
“Oh, um, I’m tired. That’s all.” I yawn again. “It’s getting late. I think I’m going to go get ready for bed and then pass out on the couch.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He checks the time on his phone. “I’ve got an early morning, so I’ll do my best not to wake you when I leave. Do you need a blanket or anything?”
“No, I’ll just use the one I brought. Thanks.”
He grabs the pizza box and our empty cans then walks back into the kitchen. I stand to go to the bathroom.
“Night, roomie,” he says, returning to grab the comic books, then turning to walk back towards his room.
“Night, nerd,” I say.
He shakes his head and his whole chest moves when he laughs. Then he disappears behind his door.