When You're In Love with a girl

Chapter 9, tête-à-tête

TÊTE-À-TÊTE

I haven't had someone invited to my house in ages. I tell my mom as nonchalantly as I can: "Mom, there's this kid from school who will be coming to our house today," I tell her on my phone as Tom and I walk home.

"For what, honey?" replies my mom. She sound vaguely irritated, but I think she was irritated before I called her.

"Oh, um, school project," I say. For some reason, even though I always tell the truth (some white lies may ask when it is more convenient....), my voice always sounds suspicious. I don't know why.

"Okay, that should be fine," with a note of some surprise. "Are they a boy or a girl?"

I blush. "Why does it matter?" I say, maybe a bit aggressively. Mom doesn't respond; there's silence on the line. "A boy, okay. His name is Tom."

Tom looks at me with interest, but says nothing. "Is that good, then? Can he come over? We really need to work on our project," I urge.

"Yes, it will be fine, Alie. Keep your door open."

"What did she say, what did she say?" says Tom.

"She said yeah you can come over," I tell him. We walk along. "She also said to keep my door open." We both laugh. "We're in high school now, I suppose...."

That was a bit of an awkward thing to say, I guess. Tom looks at me. "Yeah... have you ever kissed a boy?"

I feel my face getting hot. "No," I admit. Why do I have to have kissed a boy by high school?

"Me neither; never have I kissed a boy but I have kissed a girl."

I wonder who he has kissed but I don't ask. I wonder why he's not more popular at school. He really is so fun to be around, really funny and easy.

"You aren't going to ask who I kissed?" says Tom, in a bit of a disappointed voice. He twists his smile at me and shows a dimple. "My mother."

I don't know what he means, exactly. "Mm."

"Have you ever kissed a girl, then?" asks Tom, pressing on.

The answer is no, of course, but I don't want to keep talking about the topic, so I don't tell him. "I don't... don't see why you want to know."

Tom stops smiling. The sun has come out, finally out of the gray gloom, and the foliage of the orange-leaved trees cast strange shadows on his face. The sun hides behind a cloud, and Tom says, "You know, I'll take that as a yes," he says, and there is a joking tone to his voice but his face is grave.

"An absence of a response doesn't mean no."

We're almost to the apartment. I'm sure Tom has noticed that we don't live in a luxury neighborhood like the neighborhood around the school, and not even in a real house like the ones in Middle Man's Land.

He says nothing as we walk the stairs to our apartment on the second floor. The stairs are slick, smooth concrete, the walls are unpainted concrete, and the railing is in utilitarian style, black painted metal. As we reach our apartment, he says, "I love the unpainted concrete theme; it reminds me of a cave, like a cool cave." He smiles.

It's a nice thing to say but perhaps it would be better if he hadn't said anything. As I open the door my mom rushes to it. She's holding her video camera, and I almost die of embarrassment. Why does my mom need to use her camera to greet my project partner?! "Hello, you're here for Alie's project?" Mom interrogates.

"Yes." There's some change over his countenance. His eyes take on a blueish light and his skin looks redder, less olive, his nose becomes straighter and sharper, and his jaw strengthens. I am viewing him as a European.