Delia's Gift (Delia 3)

“Beverly Hills. There’s this very expensive restaurant I have wanted to go to. We’ll eat and then go dancing and have some fun.”

“Dancing, too? I hope I don’t fall asleep.”

“You won’t. I’ll give you something to help you stay awake if you need it,” she said.

“A drug?”

“A boost. Don’t be such a…such an Edward!” she cried.

I thought a moment. “When I told you what Señor Bovio said you had said, you told me you couldn’t be sure Edward hadn’t given me something.”

“That was then. This is now. Believe me. He’s a changed man, Delia. Fun to him now is reading the obituaries. In fact, now that I think about it, I’m not so sure you should jump into rooming with him. You could stay here with me as long as you want. You probably don’t even need your own apartment. There’s plenty of room here.”

“Gracias, but I don’t want to insult him.”

“Insult him? What about insulting me?” she muttered. “All right. Forget about it for now. Fun. That’s the only order we have.”

When she was satisfied with how she and I looked, we sat in the living room and waited for our dates. She saw that I was very nervous. I hadn’t gone on what could be called a date since the day Adan was killed.

I told her, and she said it was like falling off a bike.

“You get up as soon as possible and start riding again, or you won’t ever. You’re taking it all too seriously.”

She continued, “Now, let me give you some advice on how to behave with a college boy.”

“How to behave with a college boy?”

She laughed. “It sounds like a college subject, I know. Actually, I can teach a class in the subject.”

“Why does any girl have to learn such a thing?”

“Why? I’ll tell you why,” she said, looking angry. “Most of the guys around here and everywhere on all college campuses, for that matter, think that every girl is looking for an intense, marry-me relationship. I admit some girls are, but most just want to have a good time. So, my first advice to you is to be as nonchalant as possible. Don’t act as if the guy you meet is another Mr. Wonderful so fast. Make him work for your attention, and give him the strong impression that you are an independent person. Once he knows you can take him or leave him, he’ll relax, and you’ll have a better time. Get it?”

“I think so,” I said, and wondered if this was how it was for all young women in America. I certainly had none of these feelings when I was with Adan. She seemed to read my mind.

“That could have been your problem with Adan,” she said, pointing at me. “He was a very sensitive, compassionate guy. He probably felt sorry for you and gave you more attention than necessary.”

“I don’t think that is true, Fani.”

“Of course not. You’re like every other damsel in distress here. You want to be thought a goddess.”

“No, that’s not true, either. Besides, you once told me he was head over heels in love with me, didn’t you? You told me you even thought of him romantically but gave up when you saw how much he cared for me.”

“Whatever,” she said. “That game is over. You’re in a new game now.”

“This is not a game, Fani.”

“Sure it is. All of life is,” she said. She leaned toward me. “There are winners and losers, period. Be a winner, Delia. It’s easy to be a loser, and you’re well on your way. Take charge of yourself, and don’t depend on poor Edward to come to the rescue here. He has enough trouble figuring out how to rescue himself.”

Her words fell like stones on my budding flowers of hope.

“Edward said he would call here later.”

“Well, we can’t wait around for him, can we? He’ll leave a message. All right, Delia?” she insisted.

I nodded.

“And another thing,” she said. “You’ll find that these boys just love talking about themselves. From minute one, they’ll be out to impress you and try to make you feel lucky they’re spending any time with you. If you like him well enough and want to be with him, give him the impression that he’s right. If you don’t, act bored.”