She never smiled.
Or even grinned.
I will say that neither of us ever got goofy or laughy—we just sort of kept looking at each other. And she told me a bit about her family, which impressed me a lot, and I told her about mine, and she gave these little nods to everything I said, still looking at me, right in my eyes.
Something was happening in my mind. I didn’t know what it was. It felt warm, almost hot. I couldn’t really think straight. I was amazed. I mean, I was amazed I could say anything to her at all, but the truth is, I had no trouble, not at first. But even with this feeling I didn’t understand—this new feeling she was making me feel just by talking to me—I felt sort of weird, because I was learning something about myself.
She had looked like an alien too.
I’d thought that.
I admit it.
She really had.
I’d sort of made her that way in my mind along with all the other kids at the party, because I’d assumed she had nothing in common with me, like I said.
But as I looked at her face, she made these little expressions. Little winces, and she pursed her lips now and then, really listening to me and trying to follow what I said—I mean trying to get something out of it, despite the fact that what I was saying really wasn’t all that much, and there was that noise all around us I already told you about.
She was not an alien.
In her face I saw such warmth and beauty and sadness and humanity that I felt like a fool for having ever seen anything else there.
What I mean is that suddenly—or maybe it was more like gradually—all this humanity, this huge ocean of humanity, sort of flooded up in her face, and it was all directed at me.
I couldn’t believe it.
I was speechless.
I mean seriously, I began to find it really difficult to talk.
I can honestly say that when I saw that happen I fell madly in love with her.
We stood there a few more minutes. I can’t remember what we discussed. I did talk, but barely. I’d never been so distracted by anything in my life as I was by her face.
Then she said, looking between Carol and me, “Well, it’s late. Are you boys going to walk me home?”
Carol said we would.
If there’s one thing I’ll never forget as we walked through the dark to her house, it was that I could feel her walking beside me. I’d never felt that before with anybody. But I swear I always, always felt it with her. Carol was walking on my other side and I couldn’t feel him there at all, but with Laura it was like I could feel this incredible warmth just coursing through her, and I felt it in myself, too.
I’m not trying to say that we were somehow connected, but I couldn’t really put it any other way. I think even if I’d closed my eyes I would have felt her near me. I didn’t feel cold even though it was dark and this sort of chilly wind had started—which I guess explains everybody’s coats at the party. She wore one too, a blue one that looked truly great on her, and to tell you the truth, I could see now that it was a very nice coat, and I would have probably bought one for myself if I could have afforded it.
But I never felt cold, even though the air was getting there and was scented, I noticed, by all the trees that stood around us, throwing big shadows on the quiet houses.
We talked about her school play. She was a junior and her play was coming up on Saturday.
I hate to sound stupid, but I didn’t really know what to say.
Finally I said, after she’d waited about ten seconds, “Can I come? I really want to see it.”
And that’s when she smiled, her first smile. Never in my life did I feel I’d asked so brilliant a question.
She said I could. She said she would really like that.
Then she stopped.
She looked aside, and just like that she ran across a dark yard to a big dark house and went up some stairs and turned.
She looked back at me. “Well, good night.”
I just stood there.
She didn’t move.
Carol managed to prod my back.
“She wants you to kiss her!” he whispered impatiently. “Go over there! And get her phone number, you moron!”
It struck me he was right.
So I went across the yard.
It took courage.
She leaned down from the stairs and we kissed very lightly. I remember her face coming close to mine. I will never forget it. I asked for her number and she wrote it on my palm.
When we were walking again, Carol said, “Man, you almost blew it! Couldn’t you see she was really into you? Why can’t you talk to her? You always talked with Suzie! What’s up with this?”
I couldn’t answer at first. It all seemed too good to be true. I mean, the question was already occurring to me. Maybe not in words yet, but I had this crazy feeling.
What does she see in me?
But I couldn’t tell Carol that. He wouldn’t understand.
I looked at him. “I don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t know.”
He seemed very frustrated with me. I mean, for a second he looked as disgusted as Tommy Werks; his whole face sort of squeezed, and he shook his head.
Then his face sort of cleared. It emptied. Another look came into it, sort of curious and sympathetic—I mean as sympathetic as Carol could look, because sympathy wasn’t really his strong point.
He said, “Maybe you just don’t believe it.” He looked at me with narrowed eyes, squinting, of course, almost like
