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My terror that we'd pass the night in silence ebbed, replaced by the most powerful sensation of
disbelief I'd ever experienced. Was this really happening to me? More than anything, I wished I
could show a preview of this moment to my desperate, lonely, first-semester self.
Co
we got out of the car, we started kissing. I would have been perfectly happy if we hadn't made it
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"I'm starving, Red." He pulled the keys out of the ignition and popped open his door. "Lez eat!"
Suffering from my usual post-kissing-Co
from the car than he did. By the time I'd unbuckled my seat belt and maneuvered onto the
sidewalk, Co
Inside Osaka there were regular tables and, toward the back, low tables at which people sat on
pillows with their legs crossed Indian style.
"Good evening," said the hostess, walking toward us carrying two menus. "Would you prefer to sit Western or Japanese style?" When she said "Japanese style" she gestured toward one of the low tables.
"Western," I practically shouted. She nodded, and Co
against the
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wall. I sat down normally, grateful to have a tablecloth between the world and my thong.
"God, I love sushi," I said. "I don't think I've had it since we left San Francisco. My dad and I used to eat it practically every other night."
"Oh, yeah? That's cool, Red," he said. I looked down the menu. Yellowtail. Shrimp. Tuna. I
hadn't even realized how much I missed my regular sushi infusions until this minute.
"Ready?" asked the waitress. She flipped open her pad and held her pen ready.
"Take it away, Red," said Co
"Um, I'll have two pieces of yellowtail, an unagi, a shrimp, and the special hand roll," I said. She nodded, getting it all down. Then she turned to Co
"Wow, Red," he said. "You're daring. I'll have the steak teriyaki." He snapped his menu shut and handed it to her.
"Have you ever tried sushi?" I asked him as soon as the waitress had gone.
"Raw fish? No way," he said. He made a cross with his chopsticks as if to ward off vampires. I
was about to ask him why not, when the thought occurred to me that perhaps I should change the
subject rather than continuing to call his attention to the fact that I was about to eat food he
apparently found as revolting as the undead.
"Sorry you had to go through that whole scene back at my house," I said. I wanted him to know
what Mara
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and the Princesses were really like. "They never act that way."
Before I could explain what I meant, Co
about it, Red. Your family's nice. And your mom's so cool. I can see where you get your great
legs." He smiled and squeezed my hand.
"She's not my mother," I practically shouted. The idea that someone could think Mara was my
mother made me sick to my stomach. "She's my stepmother." Even the word itself had come to
have something black and spidery about it. I took my hand from Co
sweaty fingers on my napkin, which, though Mara was absent, I'd put on my lap as soon as we
sat down.
"Gotcha," said Co
mean, I guess my boyfriend needs to know that his girlfriend lives with her dad and her wicked
stepmother because her mother is dead. But I wasn't exactly anxious to bring up a subject that
would undoubtedly be a huge downer.
Co
magically appeared at my elbow and refilled it.
"Thanks," I said. He nodded and slipped away.
"Hey, did you watch the game last night?" Co
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"The Knicks or the--"
"No, the Syracuse game."
"Yeah," I said. "I felt like they just folded in the fourth quarter. Everybody's been saying they have this unstoppable offense, but I thought they were totally lame."
"Totally," he agreed, taking some ice out of his glass with a fork. "Did you watch all the way to the end? Did you see how they missed that last shot?"
I nodded and made a face. "It was tragic," I agreed.
As we discussed the game and who we thought would make it to the NCAA finals, I started to
get a strange feeling about the conversation. It was as if basketball was this tiny island of talk
Co
the time our food came, I was sure we couldn't possibly have any more basketball-related items
to discuss, but then Co
were better than they'd ever been.
Unfortunately, I couldn't really focus on what he was saying, only it wasn't because I didn't know
most of the people he was talking about. The second I leaned forward to take my first bite of
sushi, the strap of my dress slipped off my shoulder, almost taking the entire right side of the top
with it. I dropped the piece of yellowtail I'd been about to taste and grabbed at my dress, firmly
pulling it back up. Then I took a deep breath and,
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bending forward as little as possible, got the yellowtail back on my chopsticks. As I dropped my
chin to get the piece in my mouth, the strap started slipping again, and when I grabbed for it, a
clump of rice dropped off my chopsticks and slipped down the front of my dress. I felt it lodge
between my breasts, right where a tiny decorative rose might have nestled if I'd been wearing a
bra.
I panicked. Should I try to remove it? How do you reach down the front of your dress and subtly
pull out a rice meteor? Maybe the best thing to do was just leave it there and hope it went away
by itself. But what if it "went away" by heading south? I could see it now. I'd stand up, and a
second later a golf ball of rice would drop onto my chair. I'd look like Long-Eared Peter, the
rabbit we had in my second-grade classroom, who dropped little pellets wherever he went.
This particular image occupied a not-insignificant part of my brain for most of di
lightly stroking my chest just above the top of the dress, hoping to find an opportune moment to
plunge my hand into the bodice and remove the offending rice ball.
The problem with my plan was that Co
late was like a pointer directing his gaze to my (basically non-existent) cleavage. If he hadn't
dropped his fork halfway through the meal and needed to look around for a waiter to get him a
new one, I might have had to remain seated for the
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rest of my life. Luckily, the three seconds during which he was distracted were all I needed to
lean forward enough to loosen the tight fabric, grab the rice out of my dress, and drop it next to
my pile of wasabi.
"May I take your plates?" asked our waitress.
"Yeah, sure," said Co