“Oh?”
“I spent most of the afternoon memorizing some common French expressions just to impress you. It can’t hurt my grade in class, either, I guess.”
“If you learn everything yourself, I won’t be able to help,” I teased.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll need your help for years.”
I smiled and sipped my soda. The waitress brought us some bread and butter. I finally looked around the restaurant. It wasn’t very big or expensive-looking, but it wasn’t a fast-food place, either.
“Have you been here often?”
“I suppose,” he said. “My father likes places like this. He calls them unassuming and places where you can talk to real people, whoever they are.”
“Maybe he just means people who aren’t phonies.”
“You mean like plastic socialites?”
I shrugged. “Is your father going to run for some office?” I asked.
“Probably. Actually,” he said, “it’s supposed to be a secret, but the mayor is working on getting him the nomination for congressman, but if he’s elected, we’re not moving to Washington, D.C. New York is close enough.”
“Now it’s no longer a secret,” I said.
“Somehow, I feel I can trust you.”
“Why?” I asked, really curious.
“It’s in your eyes. You’re the type of person who hates telling lies or hurting someone else’s feelings. Am I wrong?”
I shook my head, but I wanted to tell him it wasn’t wise to believe in someone’s goodness too soon. Did older boys, especially boys like him who came from wealthy, famous families, appreciate advice from someone like me? If he was too arrogant to accept good advice no matter what the sou
rce of it, he wasn’t for me, I thought. Not my type, I told myself. I couldn’t help the small smile on my lips, but he didn’t seem to notice.
The waitress brought our platters, and we started to eat. He talked more about his family, especially his sister. He was very proud of her. She had been her high school’s valedictorian and was on the dean’s list at college. He said her plan was to go to Harvard Law School and become editor of the Law Review.
“I guess I have some impressive footsteps to follow,” he said.
I admired the relationship he apparently had with his sister. I think he saw that in my face when he finished talking about her.
“What’s it like being an only child?” he asked. “Are you spoiled?”
“Hardly,” I said, and described my responsibilities at home, my father’s military style, and my efforts always to please him. “I mean, I love him dearly,” I said. “But as you know, he is the son of an Army general.”
Evan smiled. “I’m glad my suspicions about you were correct,” he said.
“What were they?”
“Simply that you’d be great to talk to, someone who was sincere, honest, and sweet.”
More wonderful compliments, I thought. They made me nervous. Again, I wondered if most girls would be grateful and leave it at that. Was it good or bad that I had such distrust? Roxy surely knew how to handle men. Wouldn’t it have been great to have had a relationship with an older, more experienced sister? There was only so much I felt comfortable asking my mother. I couldn’t simply shake off all of my father’s warnings. Was it really that dangerous simply to put all your trust in your own feelings?
“Shouldn’t we get going for the movie?” I asked. His compliments were beginning to make me feel a little uncomfortable, anyway, especially since I wasn’t being completely honest, letting him believe I was an only child.
“Right.” He signaled for the waitress. “I hope that was all right,” he said, referring to the restaurant, when we left.
“Oh, it was perfect. Thank you.”
He held my hand, and we hurried up the street and then crossed to the movie theater.