Your heels clicked loudly against the concrete of the campus sidewalk as you marched yourself into the building, your head held high as ever and your eyes squint with determination. You reeled a corner and marched yourself into a place you’d otherwise rather be caught dead than be in: the library. A conversation, turned to a bet with your friends was what got you here. Your eyes scanned the room for any hot nerds as your mind went back to what your friend had said.

You were complaining about your latest heartbreak when you friend suggested you go after the opposite of what you usually go for since you always choose assholes. She suggested you bag a nerd, if you even could, since surely no guy with a brain would go after a shallow bimbo such as yourself. You were going to prove her wrong. Yes, every guy in your life has treated you like nothing short of absolute garbage; disposable, disgusting, and no longer wanted once thrown out. Romantic, right? But that doesn’t mean you can’t date a nerd just because they’re smart. Surely you aren’t the problem, right? You can’t possibly be the reason all of those guys turned out to be awful.

You made a bet that you could date a nerd and not ruin him. So, your mission was set. You scanned the whole library before your eyes landed on the hottest nerd you’d ever seen. He had the prettiest, deepest eyes, and his unnatural looking messy hair caught your attention. He was laughing with his friends, debating about something and they had some game set up on the table. You approached him with the sweetest smile you could muster, your breasts pressed out and your hips swaying in your mini skirt as you walked up to him. When you said hey, he told you he was busy and got back to his game. He wasn’t even rude about it, in fact he gave you the most polite smile ever, but it filled you with rage to be rejected.

After that day you were determined. It was no longer just about the bet, it was now about your pride and ego too. Nerds were supposed to be all gushy and blushing around gorgeous girls like yourself, so why the hell was this one broken? With all of your failed attempts, your anger grew. You tried to stalk him on social media, which you found out he didn’t have. You also found out that all of the girls in his department had the hots for him but he didn’t pay any of them any mind. You called your best friend to talk to her about your troubles. She said there were allegations that he was gay, or had erectile disfunction. Of course you didn’t think that was true, he was too young to have a limp dick.

When your last attempt at charming him didn’t work, you snapped and dragged him to a janitorial closet, shutting the door and locking it behind you. You went on a big, self centered rant, your rage visible through your eyes. He watched you, gulping softly.

“I know its not because im not insanely hot or charming. You must really have a limp dick, that must be it, isn’t it?”

He eyes went wide and he shushed you. After he shushed you, it only made you angrier. You slapped him, pushing his hand away from your mouth. You watched his eyes go wide as he grinned. He held your arms from hitting him anymore and watched the fight die down in you as he pointed to his pants. A tent had formed.

“I think you did it. I think you fixed it. What was all that stuff you were saying about dating and winning a bet? If you are the cure to my broken wiener, then we need to test if this was just a fluke. We could date. But it would be fake. We date just long enough to make your friends believe it’s real, and you help me figure out if it’s just you or if you’re doing something special to make it work. How about seal the deal over dinner?”

He brought you to a diner not far from campus, and ordered the greasiest good ever that made you sick just looking at.

“Sure you don’t want anything, Diapers?”