"Do you want any more coffee?"
"No." He closed his notebook and looked out
the window. "So won't your boyfriend miss you?" "I don't have a boyfriend, and before you ask, I
don't have any friends who will miss me either."Why
not?"
"I don't speak the same language," I said, and
he finally smiled. He had a very nice smile, I thought.
It was like a dash of light and warmth. I understood
why my aunt wanted me to smile more.
"You working here tonight?"
"Yes."
"I'm fixing up my scooter. It's not much, but it
gets me around. I'm going home with some parts, and
I think it should be in working order in a few hours. If
you need a ride home afterward . . ."
"You want me to accept a ride and risk giving
away my soul?"
He actually laughed and then stood up. "Okay," he said. "Touche." He started away. "I'll tell you what," I said, and he paused and
turned hack to me.
"What?"
"I'll let you take me home if you'll let me read
some of your poetry."
He considered.
"That way we're both taking a risk," I added,
and he nodded.
"Okay. I'll be back about . . ."
"Nine-thirty," I said.
He nodded and walked out. Aunt Zipporah
stepped up beside me quickly.
"Looks like you made something of a