“You don’t want champagne? You can have anything you like,” Jared said.
“I’m not much of a drinker.” I didn’t want to also say I was too young in front of the waiter. Nothing kills the blush of a first date like getting carded at the table.
“Very well,” the server said, and disappeared into the restaurant. He returned only moments later with a bottle of Perrier, which he emptied into my wineglass. When he was done, Jared raised his glass in a toast, and I joined him, trying to keep my hand from shaking. I was mostly successful and, after a sip, set the goblet on the table.
Jared did the same, and I tried again. “Why did you invite me to dinner, Jared? And how did you know I was in the dorms?”
“I have some pull with the administration.” He hesitated. “I asked.”
So much for my third degree of him. I would probably be doing way better if I didn’t feel like I was falling into a deep lake whenever I looked into his eyes.
“And the why?” I pressed.
“Why don’t we eat first? Don’t want to keep the staff waiting around all night.”
I looked around for a menu, but apparently the waiter had forgotten. Or was expecting us to finish our drinks first?
“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering for us. I know the menu pretty well.”
I felt a flash of annoyance, but couldn’t bring myself to say, Actually, I do mind. Food’s food, right? Whatever they served here was doubtless pretty good.
Jared gave some sort of signal to the waiter, who glided off at a pace that looked unhurried, yet covered a lot of ground in a short time.
“How were the chocolates?”
“They were delicious, as you said in your note.” A thought occurred to me. “Did you write that? The handwriting’s like…art.”
“I did. One of the few skills I held onto from school. Penmanship was one of my strengths.” Another pause. “I like your blouse.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. His eyes roamed over my face and hair, making me even more self-conscious. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“Thank you for saving my life. Maybe twice.”
“I’m glad I was there. It would be a shame for the world to lose you so soon.”
He had an oddly formal way of speaking that I somehow found charming. It was very unlike other guys his age. But somehow it didn’t come off as self-important or affected. Just…thoughtful and measured, which conflicted with the whole bad-boy stage persona. Obviously there was more to him than met the eye.
The waiter arrived with bread rolls on a silver tray and set them down before wordlessly disappearing. Jared offered me one, and I noticed that he didn’t take any for himself. I accepted one as much to have something to do with my hands as because I was genuinely hungry.
I drew in a breath and steeled myself. “Why dinner with me, Jared?” I asked once again.
“Why not?” he countered.
Checkmate in one move. What was I supposed to say to that?
He considered me for a few beats and then shrugged. “I wanted to know more about you. This is what I came up with.”
“All right.” Let’s go with that, then. “So what do you want to know?”
“Well…everything. Favorite color?”
“Gray.”
He nodded, as if he’d expected the answer. “Animal?”
“Horse.”
“Really? Not panther?”
That was odd. “Well, I do like panthers, actually – all the big cats. But you said favorite, so…horse.”
He looked off over my shoulder, as if he were remembering something. “I guess that makes sense.”
I laughed. “You guess? It’s my opinion. I mean, I can’t be wrong.”
“Salty or sweet?”
“Hmm…both. But if I had to pick just one, then sweet.”
“Favorite dessert?”
“Anything chocolate.”
“Right.” He smiled as if I’d just answered correctly on a quiz show.
Before we could play any more twenty questions, the waiter arrived and placed in front of me a platter dominated by a large red-shelled creature with outsized front pincers. Spindly legs extended from its body, and from its head – what was probably its head, anyway – some kind of long antennae curled out and around a lettuce leaf and back towards the body. It looked like a radioactive spider had mated with a scorpion.
“What is this?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
Jared smiled. “Only the best lobster in Maine.”
“Lobster, huh?” I mean, I knew that. I’d seen pictures. But how was I supposed to eat it? What if I hated it?
I tried to look confident and enthusiastic, but obviously failed. “What’s the matter?” asked Jared. “You love lobster.”
Something not a million miles from my temper flared up from deep down. “And how would you know that?” I shot out.
“Well, because… I mean…” He seemed genuinely flustered.
“You don’t know if I love lobster. Even I don’t even know if I love lobster, since I’ve never had it. Pennsylvania’s not exactly surrounded by coasts.” Or my family by money.
For some reason he seemed relieved by my answer. “I just meant, everybody likes lobster. So it seemed reasonable to assume…”
Unable to stop myself from ruining the closest thing to a fairy-tale date I’d ever have, I plunged on. “You said you wanted to get to know me. Then how about getting to know me instead of assuming you already do, based on what ‘everybody’ likes?”
He stared at me for a moment, jaw open in frank astonishment, and then threw back his head and laughed. His reaction was so unexpected that I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. In some strange way, our laughter bonded us, and by the time it subsided, the tension was mostly gone.
“That’s fair,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ordered for you. Can we start over?”
“A man who apologizes!” I teased. “I like that. It makes you seem more…more human.”
“Human? Really?” he said, with a glint in