“Debbie might go out with me?”
“We’ll see how it goes. If you feel it’s hopeless, pull on your ear, the one closer to Meg, when I’m looking at you, and I’ll take the lead from there.”
They don’t spot us until we’re close to their table. Meg’s face says she’s surprised to see us together.
“Hey,” I greet them. “Fancy meeting you here. Listen, is it okay if we sit down?”
Debbie looks a little amused. “Sure.”
I opt for casual conversation rather than the ready-for-anything approach I’d used on the three other girls. “So, are you shopping or just here to hang out with friends?”
Meg answers, her tone making it seem she doesn’t think we’ll like the answer. “I’m killing time until a poet I like gets to the bookstore for a reading.”
I glance at Robert, he looks at me, and then he turns to Debbie. He says, “What about you?”
Debbie lets her eyes rest on Robert’s broad shoulders for a minute. “I’m shopping. But I saw Meg, so we came here to get something to drink.”
“Going to the poetry reading?” he asks.
She gives her head a shake, and the curls bounce a little. “I don’t think poetry is my thing, really. What about you?”
I can tell they’re off to a start at least, and I like poetry. So I talk to Meg about the reading, keeping an ear trained on Robert’s progress. At one point I think I hear Debbie say something about some other boy, and then Robert’s low voice says, “Well, in the meantime, how would you like to see a movie with me?”
Meg is in midsentence. She stops, but I don’t want Robert to feel awkward, so I say something to get her to continue. I barely hear Debbie say, “That might be okay.”
Meg stops talking again, looks at Robert, looks at me. “Did you guys come over here to ask us out?”
I shrug and flash a lopsided grin at her. “Sure. How would you like to see a movie with me?”
It takes us a while to figure out what movie we might all like to see, and finally we settle on The Return of the King, the last of the “Lord of the Rings” cycle. There’s a marathon of all three of them showing, but we can see just the third one. I haven’t seen the first two, but I’ve read the books, so I think I’ll be okay.
Debbie nearly squeals when I admit this lack in my cultural education. “How could anyone not have seen them?”
I treat the question as rhetorical, and we move on to logistics. We decide on an early Saturday show, with dinner at a hamburger place nearby afterward.
Robert is flying when we finally get up from our chairs. I’m tempted to stay for the poetry reading, but it seems a little like I’d be trying too hard. And anyway I have to talk to Robert about the date; I have no idea if he knows how to handle himself in this kind of social situation, and it seems unfair to throw him into the water without teaching him a few swimming techniques. We go hang out on some benches near a fountain at the center of the mall.
He’s not as unschooled as I’d feared, so I really don’t say much—just ask a few questions to make sure he has an idea what he’s in for. The really good news, something I hadn’t counted on, is that he can borrow his dad’s car. Aunt Audrey lets me use hers from time to time, but it’s a VW bug. Not much good for double dating. And Uncle Steve’s is off-limits, not because it’s anything special, but because—or so I suspect—there’s enough room in it for a pair of determined teenagers to have sex more comfortably than in the bug.
We do some people watching—Robert eyeing the girls, and me surreptitiously following a few boys with my gaze—until we need to leave. On the way through the mall, we pass by a small boutique, and I’m looking through the glass at a leather jacket when I see two kids in the store. My breath stops. One of them is Raj.
He’s standing with his side to me, hands in his pockets, watching a girl do a little spin to show off the skirt of a dress she’s trying on. He’s smiling at her, a little possessively it seems. She looks Indian too. Could she be his girlfriend?
My heart is in my throat. I have to know.
Robert has stopped several feet away, waiting for me to follow him. I try to speak, but I have to clear my throat first.
“I’ll just be a minute” finally emerges a little hoarsely.
I stroll in, doing my best to look unconcerned, and pretend to examine a few things hanging on a rack, working my way slowly to where Raj and the girl are talking.
She’s saying, “But do you think it’s too much money?”
“You like this boy, yes?” She nods. He adds, “I like him too, and Mum and Dad. This is a special event.” His smile makes his whole face glow.
I’m staring right at him when he sees me. The smile fades, but the eyes—well, the eyes pull me forward.
I try to fake serendipity. “Raj? It’s Raj, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I—yes.” He seems flustered. In a way, this is a good thing. I move over to him, knowing that he’ll either introduce me to the girl or take me aside and tell me to get away from him. Whoever speaks first…
He does. “This is my sister, Anjani. Anjani, this is Jason Peele from school. He’s on the track team. A runner.”
Anjani’s deep eyes sparkle as she holds her hand out for mine. “How do you do?”
How do you do? Can’t remember when anyone has said that to me.
“Delighted to meet you,” I say, and—I can hardly believe I’m doing this—I bow over her hand. I decide to throw caution to the wind. If I can make friends with his pretty sister, who knows what else might happen? “I hope you don’t mind if I tell you how charming you look. This outfit—you’re trying it on? It suits you.”
“Thank you so much! Yes, I do think I’ll take it.”
She turns to her brother—her brother!—and laughs, a musical sound. She’s older than Raj, I decide; at first I had thought the opposite. She dances away, presumably back to the dressing room, and leaves Raj and me alone.
This is awkward. He’s not saying anything, just looking at me with those eyes. Pretend you’re with a girl, I tell myself. It almost works; at least I can talk, even if I can also hear my heart pounding.
I say, “She’s lovely. And what a wonderful brother you are, to take her shopping.”
He clears his throat. I feel a strange gratification. “She trusts my judgment. I won’t tell her something looks good if I don’t think it does.”
I nod slowly, trying to look wise. “Honesty is rare. I like it.”
Another moment goes by, awkward again, but neither of us makes a move to end things, to break off the meeting. I’m thinking there’s something about him that seems unusual. Not just that he’s from India; it’s like he has some special knowledge, or something like that.
Finally he breaks the silence. “How did you do in the dash?”
I tilt my head at him. “How did you know I was trying out for it?”
If someone with a complexion as dark as his can blush, he blushes. “I saw your name on the list.”
It’s everything I can do not to laugh. I feel giddy, foolish, happy to the point of ridiculousness. He looked for me. On the list. He remembered my name. He knew it well enough to tell his sister. And it makes him blush to admit it to me.
Gradually I grow calm enough to speak.