Nerd Makeover Novels & Stories

My name is Emma and I'm what they call a nerd. Not only that I have multiple nicknames like fathead, uglyface, the list is endless. Summer is finally over meaning it's back to school well for me more like I'm going to hell, you see I've always been bullied. It started of being an emotional thing but then they started bullying me physically, shoved me against the lockers, some girls actually slap me but I don't do anything I just walk away.

I asked, and she tapped my shoulder. "Easy there, lover girl. Because she dyed her hair red, but she's still wearing big and thick glasses. So much for a nerd... she still is. Mhmm." She stated and when I am about to say something, "WHAT THE HECK!" I cursed as somebody bumped into me that made me fall on the floor with my butt first, and then I felt warm liquid spread to my chest. It's a chocolate drink.

My ass looks bomb as hell. For the first time in a very long time I feel confident about how I look. I grab a short,silky,black robe to put on over the underwear. Sexy but classy. I put on some watermelon lip balm and walk to the door. Here goes nothing.

She sounded certain I'd slink back, no matter how she trampled my dignity. I powered off my phone, yanked out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and flicked it into a nearby trash bin. Discarded alongside it was every shred of degradation, scheming, and painful memory of my former life. The plan soared, erasing my past in its wake. A close friend later filled me in that Shannon had bombarded my socials with frantic comments. [Enough already?] [It's just a relationship. Why the overreaction?] [Get over it and add me back!]

It's just a word anyway, an insulting word to make people down. "You're the one who's ugly, bitch." I said. Except for her, I'm sorry it's just an attitude. "I'm not a bitch! You ugly nerd!!" I don't really like it for those who will be left behind, but if they want to be angry, I won't be angry with them, it's simple.

Her hand in Ethan’s. Captioned: “The Nerd & The Hockey King… exposed.” And underneath Hundreds of comments are already pouring in.

And we begin to move outside to get a cab. I’m tense knowing we’re heading to a social place. I’m not a social person. I’m that person you can call a nerd. And sure enough, Mae doesn’t want me to wear my nerdy look to a party which is why she glammed me up like herself. My lips painted with red that’s as thick as hers. My hair packed in a French twist as Mae's. Eyebrows fuller with a little touch of an eye pencil. My glasses was outright flipped aside. I feel weird. The makeup feels wholly heavy on my face.

“Oh my gawd, oh my gawd! I know! Let me give you a makeover!” “A makeover? Like those ones you see in the corny teen movies? The one where a popular kid takes the nerdy girl and suddenly makes her beautiful and popular, letting her get the hottest guy in school.” I've seen Clueless and She's All That. That shit doesn't happen in real life. I would love a Pretty Woman moment, where after a nice change of clothes I have Richard Gere facing his fear of heights to climb my fire escape with a rose in his mouth. But I am forced to face reality and I know that shit isn't fucking happening.

Everyone saw my body and assumed I was going to cry if I broke a fingernail. “So pretty in your little frame.” Nora finished her makeup. She watched me for a moment as I finished my smoky eye. “I love that look on you. Such a badass. Those black matted nails will bring the whole look together.” “That’s me. The badass!” Smiling at her, I just looked at my creation. “Here.” Nora grabbed some bobbypins and pulled the right side of my hair back, pinning it behind my ear. “There, that looks better.” The curls around the left side of my face made my jaw really stand out. The velvetly dark purple streak was in full view.

Miranda POV “What are you doing here? I thought you had the week off, “ I tell my boss, Nancy, as she walks into my office. I was really looking forward to having a week without anyone bothering me. I can get so much more done without the constant distraction of small talk and meetings that take forever when a simple conversation would suffice. It's just like the coffee mug Amanda got me last year for Christmas says, “This meeting could have been an email.” Nancy is in her late forties and she's the type of woman who is fighting aging hard. She has her hair dyed an entirely too blonde color that doesn't match her features, and is always talking about which facial creams are reducing her w