Geek Charming Read Online Free

concerned, it’s preparation for later when I’m doing night shoots and need a quick pick-me-up. “If you’re going to blatantly rip off a movie that’s already been made, at least find some Japanese horror one no one’s seen instead of something so mainstream.”
    I shook my head. “That’s way too 2005.” I sighed and tipped my chair back. “I just need to face it—I’m undergoing my first official creative block. I feel like Nicolas Cage in Adaptation when he couldn’t write the script.”
    I would have done anything for Quentin to walk in at that moment so I could ask him what he did when he was blocked creatively, but I had no such luck. Instead I had to wait a full twenty-four hours, until I ran into Dylan. If you had told me even a week before that Dylan Schoenfield of all people would have ended up being my muse, I would have laughed in your face. Not only is she spoiled and stuck-up, but she’s also über-popular. Like Best Dressed/ Homecoming Queen/Miss February in “The Girls of Castle Heights Calendar” popular. Like Dylan-Has-2,028-Friends-on-MySpace popular.
    Me? I have 612. And most are fellow movie buffs. I suffer from the opposite problem: not many people at Castle Heights know who I am. It’s not like I’m some weird loner who wears a Black Flag T-shirt and trench coat and army boots—I mean, I have friends, like the guys in the Film Society and Russian Club—but I’m a film geek. And proud of it, I might say. I already know that I’ll be quoted in the articles about me in Film Threat ten years from now as saying that I didn’t come into my own until my twenties, and I’m fine with that. Everyone knows that every artist who’s any good wasn’t popular in high school. Take Tim (that’s Burton, as in Edward Scissorhands and Beetlejuice )—I highly doubt he was prom king at his high school.
    To me, the idea of doing a documentary about cool kids in high school was as original as it got. Sure, it had been done, but everyone knew that even though Laguna Beach was quote-unquote reality television, it was about as real as the idea of me getting crowned homecoming king that fall. My documentary—which, during the drive home from The Dell that day I had decided would be called The View from the Top of Castle Heights —would be a no-holds-barred look at the beautiful people. The good, the bad, the ugly—no one and nothing would be spared in my quest for the truth of what really went on behind the velvet ropes that led to Castle Heights’ cool crowd. And because we were talking about popularity in glitzy, sunny Los Angeles rather than, say, gray, rainy Portland, Oregon, it would be even more intriguing to audiences.
    After saving Dylan’s bag—and getting zero thanks, which shouldn’t have been much of a surprise since she walked around acting as if life was a movie that had been written as a starring vehicle for her while the rest of us were just supporting characters—I went home and put together a killer proposal for the documentary. Block gone, as my fingers flew across the keyboard I felt like how Woody must have felt when he came up with the idea for Annie Hall ; or Quentin, when he came up with the idea for Pulp Fiction ; or Martin, when he came up with the idea for Taxi Driver . (That’s Martin as in Martin Scorsese, another one of my favorite directors.)
    After letting it sit for a day, and doing a rewrite on Thursday night, I stopped at the post office after school on Friday afternoon and mailed off my application—I even splurged and spent a little extra to get delivery confirmation—and then I went to work at Good Buys, where I’m a member of the Geek Gang and fix people’s computers. I don’t like to advertise this because if the people at Good Buys ever found out I’d most likely be fired, but I’m a film geek rather than a computer one. Obviously I know that you can’t go wrong with pushing control/alt/delete all at once, which is how I usually try to solve a