I expected that Chastity would call me to question me more about Evan, but she didn’t. I couldn’t wait to go to sleep, anyway. It felt as if I were a little girl again, looking forward to Christmas morning or my birthday. As much as I wanted the night to pass quickly, I had trouble falling asleep. All sorts of questions and worries rumbled through my mind. Was Papa right? Was it just my new look that interested Evan? Once he learned more about me, would he lose interest quickly? Would his friends question him about why he wanted to go out with me in the first place? How would other girls, jealous girls, treat me? Would they all be as sullen as Chastity?
Somehow, I finally exhausted my brain and fell asleep, but I was up even before Papa the next morning. He was very surprised to see me in the kitchen when he came down.
“Something’s put a fire under your shoes,” he commented.
Mama just smiled. I thought he did, too, but he kept it hidden under his hand. I don’t think I ever got to school as quickly. I practically ran up the avenue. I wondered when I would see Evan. His classes were on a different side of the building, but to my delight, he was waiting for me near my locker when I arrived. Usually, Chastity was there, but she was either late that day or not coming to school at all. I had little time to think about her. Evan was ready to practice French.
“Bonjour. Comment allez-vous?”
“Bien, et toi?”
“Toi? That’s the informal, right?”
“Absolument, Monsieur Styles.”
I exchanged my books in my locker. He stood by my side and talked, and then, as he walked with me to my homeroom, he told me more about his family and where they lived. He told me about his older sister, Tami, who was in college, the time they went on a family vacation in southern France in Beulieu-sur-Mer and stayed at a very famous expensive hotel, La Réserve. He met many people, including people his age, who could speak not only two languages but three. He said that was when he decided he would learn to speak French. He spoke very quickly, as if he had to get it all said before we parted to go to our morning classes.
Chastity showed up late for homeroom. The first thing she did when she sat across from me was ask me if I was still going on a date.
“Yes, why not?”
“I thought you might have changed your mind,” she said sullenly.
“Hello? Like, why?”
“I thought you might have realized he was toying with you,” she said. I imagined she had spent a good part of her night thinking of reasons to discourage me.
“Why would he be doing that?”
“The boys here are like that,” she said when the bell rang. “I heard they make bets about how much they can tease and take advantage of a girl.”
“When did you hear this?” I asked. She had never said anything like this before, and I certainly hadn’t heard anything of the kind, especially something that made it sound like a male conspiracy.
“I heard,” she said, shrugging. “Some of the girls were talking about it in the girls’ room.”
“When?”
“Oh, I don’t know, exactly. I heard it.”
“Well, why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”
“You weren’t being taken advantage of before,” she said.
“And I’m not now,” I snapped back at her, and hurried to our first class.
She realized how angry she had made me and at the end of class told me she was just trying to be helpful. I grunted like Papa but didn’t go out of my way to be talkative or friendly. At lunch, I was with Evan again anyway. He got my lunch, and we sat alone at the same table.
“I’m sorry I talked so much about myself this morning,” he said.
“That’s all right. I enjoyed hearing it all, especially your experiences in France and your trip to Monte Carlo. My parents always talk about the Café de Paris there, too.”
“I’m sure. Tell me about your family now,” he said.
I told him about Papa and his military family and Mama and her French family, but of course, I didn’t mention my sister, Roxy.
“I’m surprised you don’t have any brothers or sisters,” he said. “If I had a daughter as pretty as you are, I’d want to try for another.”
I smiled but kept my eyes down. Truth is comfortable in your eyes, but falsehood looks for ways to escape and clearly shows itself in the way you look at the person to whom you are lying. Papa taught me that. He said it was something his father, who knew about enemy prisoner interrogations, taught him.