Typical Nerd Look Novels & Stories

The same bartender nerd with the old cracked phone and glasses that slipped down his nose every five seconds. Two days ago, I’d sworn to myself I wasn’t going to go through with this. No way in hell. Tutors were for people who failed, not for people like me who just... didn’t care. But here I was, staring at a nerd in a white body shirt and black trousers, who looked like he’d been pulled out of one of those “hot nerd makeover” scenes in a rom-com. And damn, did he look good.

In the center stood a massive round table packed with people. My gaze swept the assembly, involuntarily landing on a radiant figure at the head. Shannon looked more mature now. Her skin glowed under subtle makeup, her lithe frame draped in a chic ensemble that screamed affluence. Her legs elegantly crossed as admirers orbited her like planets. Beside her lounged a strapping young man in flashy clothes. It was not Hunter Ward, but a fresh face. Apparently, her arm candy had upgraded. A brief hush fell before a tipsy guy spotted me. "Whoa, look who is here? Isn't that Shannon's former simp?"

Way to throw me under the bus in an instant. The boy looked up, giving me a clear view of his face. Flawless skin, way to flawless for his own good with pale skin. His hairs were jet black and a pair of round glasses sat over his nose. If I didn't know better, I would say Harry Potter had come to life. All in all, he was an absolute nerd. He stared at Alex's outstretched hand in terror before turning his gaze to me and locked there. 'Her... her eyes... they a-are-'

“You seem like the type who'd rather stay home, mind your own business, read some boring-ass book, or spend hours doing whatever nerdy shit you're into while everyone else is out getting drunk and making stupid decisions. And you're smart as hell. I mean, every professor has something good to say about you. You're always buried in books, and always getting good grades.” His gaze drifts toward my glasses, before returning to my eyes. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I think nerds are fucking hot though. Especially the ones with freckles and glasses.” Heat creeps into my cheeks. “Um…” I bite my lip, suddenly unsure of what to say. My eyes remain fixed on his face on the screen as I try t

I spat out in fury, my chest rising and falling in sync. The look in his eyes showed he was surprised. Lifting his brow, he let out a laugh, this time, louder. “Fair enough.” “You’ve got that look again.” He said after a while. “What look?” I wanted to stop talking with him but I just couldn't. “The look of a girl who just realized the guy she was curious about is a bit of an asshole.” I bit back the urge to cry, instead, I nodded, “You’re right.” Leaning close so that his hot breath was fanning my face, he said, “If you level up a bit and quit being a nerd, maybe there can be us.”

Maybe some Nine Inch Nails or Halestorm. His door opens and I'm face to face with the least put together Finn I've ever seen. Considering his normal attire is jeans and a long sleeve shirt, it's concerning. Today he's dressed in a pair of long San Francisco 49ers pajama pants and a white short sleeve t-shirt. I'm not sure if this is his idea of lounging around or he really hasn't gotten dressed today. His eyes are no longer bright green, but dull and lifeless. The dark circles under his eyes from yesterday have grown larger.

Nero called out to me, frowning as he looked back at me. "Huh!" I subconsciously mumbled, snapping out of my feelings. "When you are done peering, can you tell me why you are here?" "W-ho sa..y I was star..ing? I wasn't looking at you! There's nothing attr-active on your body... to look at!" After Neron took a sleeveless t-shirt out of his closet and wore it, he focus on me and sarcastically mumbled, "Right," "Seriously, I wasn't!" I whispered as I rubbed my neck, darting my eyes around the room.

He was rather interesting and his gruff voice did not match him, he looked more of a really, really tall lean boy than a man. Adorning black Doc Martens, dark ripped jeans, a light blue hoodie with a black leather jacket to top it off. My eyes drifted to his hands to his nails, painted a dark blue, his fingers tatted and all ring clad. He gave off a cool aura and he ate. I loved his style, it looked edgy but chill. But then my eyes moved upwards and zoomed in on his face. I gasped, it felt like hours have passed as I stared at him, my fingers instantly moved to touch his face skimming over every feature with the utmost attention and he let me.

He stood slightly apart from the others, taller than I remembered, broader in the shoulders. His jersey stretched across his chest, white and unforgiving, the bold black number one stamped against his back like a declaration. His hair was darker under the floodlights, curls damp at the edges, enhancing his boyish features. He laughed at something a teammate said, head tipped back, utterly at ease. My breath caught. No. No, no, no. “That’s Dean?” I whispered faintly.

It was uncommon for me to kiss someone other than Ashton in public, let alone a nerd. But looking at Tyler walking confidently next to me, he did not look like his usual nerd self. He was not wearing any vest or even that high-neck buttoned-up shirt that looked like it could strangle his neck. No, he was wearing something casual: a white shirt and black pants. To be really honest, he looked as hot as Adam Levine, which was funny, because he was a nerd—nerds were not supposed to look this hot. Tyler Vincent being hot was the same as Mey thinking Harry Potter was hot, which means it did not make sense to me.