The Makedown Read Free Page A

number. “I’m your resident advisor, George Macadamia, but every one calls me Nut on account of the whole Macadamia thing. They’re really popular in Hawaii— macadamia nuts, that is. I haven’t been to Hawaii, but that’s what I read online,” he babbled without making eye contact. An ease fell over me; Nut surpassed me in terms of both
awkwardness and randomness. “I’m here to talk to you about Jane,” Nut said with a strained face.
    “Oh no! Is she okay? Was there an accident?” I screeched dramatically, covering my mouth with my hand as soap opera actors often do.
    “Uh. I think she—”
    “Is she dead? Is my friend dead?” I screamed, milking the whole “friend” thing for all it was worth. I bent over, clutching my stomach as if poisoned, then straightened to beat my breast in anguish.
    “Um . . . um . . . ,” Nut stuttered, visibly uncomfortable with my emotional outburst.
    “I knew it! She’s dead! Oh God, why? Why did you take my friend?” I wailed, tears in my eyes. My belief that Nut was on an equally nerdy playing field freed my inner drama queen and then some.
    “Actually, she deferred a year, so it looks like you’re going to have the room to yourself.”
    It would have played better if she’d died, I thought ruefully.
    “Um, isn’t there someone else who needs a roommate?” I managed to pull myself together enough to ask.
    “Nope, but I’m across the hall if you need anything.”
    Again channeling my inner actor, I regurgitated a scene from many a made-for-TV movie. I slid down the door to portray my complete and utter misery. Slumped over on the floor, visions of the girls’ bathroom at Paul Revere played through my mind, making my tears all too real. Friendship, that ever-elusive mistress, had once again duped me, leaving me with nothing but a weird resident advisor named Nut. Although there was something else to consider. Did Nut tell all the dorm residents where he lived? Or was that a play for friendship? Perhaps even more than friendship? Nut was an übernerd, but that didn’t diminish my desire to win him over with my feminine wiles. No one had ever liked me. In twelve years of formal education, not one boy ever engaged in a crush on me. Girls missing limbs, girls with moustaches, girls with halitosis, and girls with chronic nosebleeds all experienced the sensation of being liked, yet I never made the cut. I yearned to believe that my past was no longer relevant at Penn. Nut would be my white knight! Was he the first sign of FG’s intervention? While devastated by the loss of my friend Jane, my focus had already shifted to my boyfriend Nut.
    Hello Fatty,
    I’ve met the man who will take my virginity, starting FG’s long-awaited makeover. His name is Nut, and, well, all I can say is I’m NUTS for him. One nerd to another, this is love.
    — Anna
    The following day I entered the dining hall at 7:30 a.m. for the express purpose of launching my relationship with Nut. I deemed a breathy voice necessary to aid in the seduction. “Um, hello Nut,” I offered in my best Melanie Griffith imitation. Of course, he had already heard my awkward real voice. Visibly affected by my new voice— or so I hoped— Nut could barely respond.
    “What?” he said without making eye contact.
    “I said hello, Nut,” I whispered.
    “Um, okay. Hi, I guess,” Nut said while chewing.
    “You guess?” I squawked indignantly before remembering my stage directions and seductively moving my tongue back and forth across my lips.
    “Okay, hi.”
    I sat down across from Nut and continued my journey to humiliation. “You know I’ve always loved macadamia nuts.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah, they’re my favorite nut.”
    “Mine, too,” Nut said, finally making eye contact. “I used to be allergic to nuts as a child, but around the time my peeps in high school started calling me Nut, the allergy disappeared.”
    “Wow, you’re a medical miracle,” I exclaimed, not even bothering to use my