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CONFESSIONS OF A NERD
I may not be Christiana Milan or Megan Good but I am pretty, hot and sexy. No, I take that back- I am a nerd. Inferiority complex is not the issue here. Rather, its me in 3d- the way the society sees me. Walking down the road alone, I clutch my books tightly to my chest (they’ve been there for me when humans deserted me). I get a few stares from random guys. I look away. Now I run into my best friend, Dayo aka Tinie, who is so called because he is skinny and short. We are not a bad match because I am petite too. He is staring at me- like the random guys. He is saying something but I am not listening because we are late for the class. We increase our pace. Somehow, the lecturer sees me sneaking into the class. All eyes are on me now. Coward that I am I run out of the class to my hideout-the library. I can’t read, because my thoughts are wandering. Back in secondary school, I was the nerd. Now, in university, I am still the nerd. Tinie says I look like one, think like one, act like one etc.
Heaving a sigh, I go to the restroom, I look into the mirror and smile. My Ray Ban frames are cool. I remove them, my sunken eyes are hard to ignore. It’s high time I used contact lenses. My breasts are quite large-out of proportion considering my petite build. When the random guys stare at them, I pretend not to notice. Tinie said everybody (guys in my class particularly) want to see me at the beach and pool parties. Even if I didn’t know why, I would not still go. I wouldn’t go for the annual dinners-nobody expects me there. Tinie has dates (notice the plural form) lined up for every outing excluding me of course. I don’t go to clubs either-that’s awkward. Do nerds dance or get drunk? Do they shout at the top of their voices? Do they gossip, hangout, chill with friends? I turn round, my back reflecting in the mirror. Fortunately, I am not “flat” at the back. I feel better now. I walk out of the bathroom only to walk right into the lecturer whose class I ran out of. This is awkward especially since he is staring at my chest. When I put out my hand to touch his tie, he relaxes, so I escape. Afterwards I head back to my room trembling.
In my room I keep trying to feel the hand with which I touched the lecturers tie, it’s numb. I have to confess that there was this thrill I felt knowing that I could control a persons action with a touch. Tinie calls me to check up on me. I tell him I am fine. Towards evening, I go to the faculty to make use of the WIFI since I have not subscribed to my internet bundle. Again, I run into the lecturer. This time I know that there is no way out. So I play along till I am enjoying myself. At first, I am unsure, ashamed but I get over it. I can’t explain how we land at the back of a lecture hall. The only thing I know is that someone else is trying to come in. I find it difficult to disengage myself, let alone dress up. There’s no point anyway because the person is walking towards us already. The lecturer dresses up, he doesn’t seem ruffled. I begin to sob when I recognise the intruder. Tinie is astounded; I see his facial expressions-he doesn’t have a poker face. He asks me quietly, “is this how you get your good grades?”I stop sobbing instantly. I am angry, I reply his question anyway. I hear myself say, “I just don’t want to be a nerd anymore”. He walks out leaving me ,half naked, in my pool of tears.

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A world changer who tells the stories that deserve to be told. Fiction may sometimes be real.

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