“It is beautiful out, but a little overdone, don't you think?”
“Overdone?”
I nodded. “I graduated from a home school program, not college with a Master's degree. I would have been fine with a Burger King,” I told her.
Julie laughed slightly and hugged my arm. “I'll take you to a Burger King if you graduate college. Besides, I wanted to get dolled up and eat overpriced steak, and twirl you around on the dance floor,” she told me.
I immediately started to protest but was stopped by our halted walking. The hostess turned to us with a forced grin and presented the table to us. “Your table,” she replied.
Julie removed herself from my arm, and I moved to pull out her seat. The motion hadn’t been planned, just reflex. I didn't know when I had become so gentleman-like.
“Your waiter will be here shortly to get your order,” the hostess said. She wouldn't look at me as she spoke, but only Julie. It didn't really bother me, and Julie didn't seem to notice.
“Thank you,” Julie said, smoothing out her skirt. The hostess started to leave. “Wait,” Julie said, lifting her head. The hostess turned, and I watched Julie smile. “By the way, your spanx are showing.”
I had never seen a woman turn red as quickly as our hostess did as she turned and walked away, pulling at her dress in the back.
Confused, I looked back to Julie, who was still smiling. “Spanx?” I asked.
Julie shook her head. “Garment to make you look thinner. It's a girl thing,” she informed me.
I really did not understand girls at all.
I was beginning to think I didn't want to.
I looked at our table, covered over with an eyelet lace cloth and holding a single candle in the middle. The table was designed for two people, on a date. Not friends.
It made me nervous, but mostly, it scared me. I could feel myself falling for its charms. I could feel myself giving into the sensual atmosphere.
Mostly, I felt myself falling for Julie, farther than I already had. I lifted my eyes to look at her, and found her gazing at me from across the table. It would be easy to give in and see how far I could go. To make this night be the first of many. To feel nervous when I took her home, wondering if it would be too soon to kiss her. To not be able to sleep when I got home because I was thinking of her and this night.
I looked down, because it was easier. It was easier to put all of the silly notions out of my mind and pretend that nothing was going on between us. I wasn't feeling this way toward her and she certainly wasn't feeling that way about me.
Why would she? I had nothing to offer her. No more than Thad, no more than I could offer Ava. A closed existence, where people looked at us and judged, and even behind closed doors, I was the same emotionally unattached monster that I was to the rest of the world.
“Something on your mind?” she asked. When I looked at her again, her eyes were still warm and open. Nothing was crossing her mind about where this was heading. She was just hanging on for the ride.
I shook my head. “No, not really,” I told her, giving her a smile. “Jane Eyre.”
She smiled crookedly. “Why is it when you get nervous, you name out a book for me to quote?” she asked.
“I don't,” I countered quickly. She gave me a disbelieving stare and I laughed. “I don't! I'm just testing your infinite book quote knowledge.”
Julie sighed and looked up. She sat there for a few seconds, trying to find the perfect quote. Then she nodded and looked to me again. “Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it had always been a sign that you are alive,” she said, her voice dropping.
“Any others?”
She tilted her head. “You do know that Jane Eyre is mostly Gothic romance, right? Almost every quote I can name is romantically entwined,” she told me.
I shrugged. “That's fine.”
Julie eyed me suspiciously, and then bit her lip, looking away. When she looked back, she had a light in her eyes. “This one is non-girly. I am no bird, and no net ensnares me. I am a free human being with an independent will.”
When she finished, I just smiled. She tilted her head, eying me suspiciously.
“What is it?”
“What is what?”
“This?” she asked, raising a brow. “Why do you really ask me to quote books? I've already proven to you that I've read a lot of books, especially older classics that you seem to prefer asking me about. Why do you ask?” she asked, and watched me cautiously.
I twisted my mouth, and thought about just shrugging if off. Before I knew it, or was truly aware, I realized the truth was slipping out of my mouth and into her ear. “I like the way you speak,” I told her.
Julie softened and stared at me. “The way I speak?” she questioned.
“Yeah. When you're saying these quotes, the way you say them is captivating. I like hearing the way you read them to me,” I told her.
She was watching me, smiling a small smile and breathing in deeply, as if inhaling my words. She looked caught, and fragile. “Really?” she asked.
I nodded, but tried to keep myself from saying anything else. I was already saying more than I had originally intended.
“Why only the older books then? Is there a reason?”
I shrugged. “I figured books were
