“The creature laughs!” Henry said.
“I’m not such a killjoy!”
“Actually, you are. A bit. Hey! I’m giving that honesty you asked for a twirl. How do you like it?” Henry said.
“You’re awful.”
“Oh, you say the sweetest things. I think you’re awful, too, darlin’,” Henry said, and Ling couldn’t fight her grin.
“Thank you for saving me today,” she said.
“Thanks for saving me, too.”
The little jazz band in the corner picked up the beat. Boys led their partners onto the floor, moving them gracefully around and around. Ling watched the dancers wistfully, tapping her fingers softly against the table. Henry saw it all.
“Would you care to dance?”
Ling’s face clouded. “This isn’t the dream world.”
“I know.” Henry stood and offered his hand. “One dance.”
Ling stared at Henry’s fingers, and then she grasped his hand and let him lead her to the floor. Mostly, they shuffled in place slowly, but it didn’t matter to Ling. She was dancing. It was almost as good as dream walking.
As they emerged onto snowy Barrow Street, Henry looked at Ling and asked, “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” Ling asked.
“Yank your skirt hem down over your braces when somebody looks at you.”
“They’re ugly. People are bothered by them.”
“They’re not bothering me,” Henry said, and Ling unfurled another of her rare smiles.
“So you really don’t like girls?”
“I like girls very much. Just… not in the marrying way, if you follow.”
Ling nodded.
“More important, I like you, Miss Chan. Friends?”
“I suppose so.”
Henry smirked. “That was a very Ling Chan answer. If you ever give me a compliment, I might fall over dead. What’s the matter now? You’re frowning again.”
“Henry, could I show you something?”
o;Very well,” Ling said at last.
Henry’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s it? Just ‘very well.’”
Ling warmed her hands on the sides of her cup. “Yes.”
“You are a strange one, Ling Chan,” Henry said, shaking his head, the relief apparent on his face.
“I’ve never had a friend like your Louis. I’ve never really had friends.”
“Their loss,” Henry answered.