Summer of the Geek

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Book: Read Summer of the Geek for Free Online
Authors: Piper Banks
Amelia into talking to me. Finn had inspired the idea by example.
    I leaned on her piano and watched her play. I could tell from the slight stiffening in her back and the tight line of her lips that my presence was already having an effect.
    “What are you playing?” I asked. “Are those scales?”
    Amelia didn’t answer, but she immediately stopped playing the scales and instead began to play something quick and jaunty. I thought it sounded vaguely familiar.
    “Wasn’t that on a commercial or something?” I hummed it.
    “I’m pretty sure it was, although I can’t remember what for. Was it for an airline? Or maybe it was a cat food commercial?”
    Amelia immediately stopped playing and glared up at me.
    “It’s a sonata written by Joseph Haydn, if you must know,” she said, her voice round with contempt.
    I kept my expression pleasantly neutral. “Was he a famous composer?”
    Amelia’s lip curled. “You don’t know who Haydn was?” she asked.
    I shook my head. “Nope.”
    “Haydn was an illustrious eighteenth-century Austrian composer. He was a contemporary of Mozart and he taught Beethoven.” Amelia tossed her hair and sneered at me. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard of him. I thought you were supposed to be a genius.”
    What sort of a ten-year-old used the word illustrious ? I wondered. And why did people keep saying I thought you were supposed to be a genius to me? First Dex, now Amelia. But I couldn’t lose my temper now.
    “Just in math. I don’t know anything about music. Maybe you could teach me,” I suggested cheerfully.
    Amelia folded her arms across her chest and looked at me as though I were a cockroach skittering across the floor. “And why would I want to that?” she asked.
    I felt my patience slipping away. “Look,” I said. “Your mom hired me to hang out with you, and I fully intend to do my job. So I’ll make you a deal—once a day, you do some sort of extracurricular activity with me. It doesn’t have to be anything big. We could just go for a walk, or go bike riding, or just sit and color. If you do that, I’ll let you practice in peace.”
    “And if I don’t?” Amelia asked.
    “I’ll bug you,” I said promptly. “Every time you sit down to practice, I’ll stand right here and do everything in my power to annoy you.”
    “You can’t do that!” Amelia said, outraged.
    I shrugged. “Sure I can. So there’s really no point in fighting me. Do you like arts and crafts? I brought glitter glue with me. And I brought Monopoly, too, if you’d rather play a game.”
    Amelia’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. She turned abruptly away, lifted her hands, and began to play again.
    “Ignoring me isn’t going to work,” I cautioned her.
    Amelia continued to play. I sighed. She wasn’t giving me any choice. I cleared my throat and began to sing.
    “Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?” I sang enthusiastically, but off-key. I never could carry a tune. “Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full . ”
    Amelia thumped her hands down on the piano keys in a crash of frustration. “Stop that!” she cried. “I can’t concentrate!”
    “One for my master, one for my dame, and one for the little boy who lives down the lane,” I continued.
    “What do I have to do to make you stop?” Amelia asked.
    I stopped singing. “Play Monopoly with me,” I said.
    “Just one game?”
    “One game,” I agreed.
    “And if I do, then you’ll let me practice?”
    “Yes,” I said, adding, “At least for today.”
    “Fine,” Amelia said, spitting the word out. “I’ll play one stupid game of stupid Monopoly with you.”
    “Good,” I said sweetly. “I’ll set the board up on the kitchen table.”

    Thirty minutes later, I owned most of the real estate on the board, and had built at least one hotel on each property. Amelia was playing, but without any enthusiasm or effort. She rolled the dice and paid whatever fines she accrued, but didn’t buy a single property. It

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