The Lights In the Sky

Chapter 8

I told Deborah that I loved her again the next day at school. At first, it seemed like she didn't believe me. She just stood there and looked at me. For a split second, I thought I made a mistake. Then she hugged me really close and I felt her warmth and realized she did love me, too. Frank looked at me funny from his locker and walked away to class. I didn't really mind, though. With him gone, it felt like just the two of us in the hallway, even though there were probably about a million other people there.

We went out to eat that night at some fancy Italian place that wasn't really that fancy, but it seemed fancy for our area. It wasn't even in Watersdale. Dad let me borrow the truck and drive her up to Cainsmouth, which never happens. I think when I asked him, he could tell that I was feeling special. And since we already had "the talk" ages ago, he didn't even say anything when he handed me the keys.

We listened to the radio the whole way and just talked. It was so nice.I started realizing how much I loved about her. Her laugh went low and then got really high at the end. She ran her fingers through her bangs a lot, which I found sexy, you know? Even when she wasn't trying to be. And it's kind of weird, but I love it when girls wear hoodies and blue jeans, which, of course, she was wearing. I won't be vulgar or anything, but it fit nice and I got this feeling in the pit of my stomach that wasn't just wanting to make out or that kind of stuff. I wanted to sit closer to her. Lean against her. Smell her skin and her hair and maybe, if I got the nerve, hold her hand. Which was ridiculous, because we were past that point by then. But it made me giddy to think about.

We got to the restaurant and had our seat back in the corner by the fireplace that was built to look like stone, but was probably some kind of fake plaster stuff. I don't know, whatever they make fake fireplaces out of that wouldn't burn down. We ate our breadsticks and drank our water. And then the waitress came over, some middle-aged woman with black, curly hair. And everything got pretty messed up for a couple minutes.

First, it was the sound. I heard it when the waitress opened her mouth. Not in the background, either. It came from her mouth. Whatever she said,it was drowned out by the sharp note. I closed my eyes tight for a second. Deborah looked at me sideways and I asked the waitress to repeat herself.

She asked if we were girlfriend and boyfriend. I said we were. And then she asked me my "lovely lady's name." I looked at Deborah. Right at her. I opened my mouth to answer. And no name came to my brain.

It wasn't just her name that I forgot. Somebody hit the reboot button in my mind and for a brief second, I lost everything. Where I was. What I was doing. She could've even asked me my own name and I would've had no idea what the answer was. But it just happened to be that question and that moment and I sat there, staring at a stranger sitting across from me with a face tilting to the side in confusion.

"Deborah," she answered. And then it all came flooding back, along with a healthy dose of embarrassment. I was Sammy. She was Deborah. We were on a date and I loved her and now she was mad at me.

"What was that?" she asked after the waitress said we looked like we needed a minute. And what could I say? I could never say it in the way that I just said it to you. She'd never buy that. So I tried to laugh it off, which seemed to make things worse. I apologized and kept my head down for the rest of the meal. She tried to keep the conversation up, since she's not the kind of girl who holds grudges or tries to make scenes. I probably apologized under my breath about a thousand times. By the time we were done eating, she seemed to be mostly over it. The food was really good and the bill was really expensive, but I didn't mind too much.

We went for a walk in this park next to the restaurant. I can't think of the name of the park right now, but a lot of couples walk around out there after their meals. Families, too. My family wasn't ever that kind of family, though. You know, the kind that spontaneously goes out for ice cream and the dad carries the little girl around on his shoulders and the mom tries to talk to the son about his girlfriend, even though it embarrasses him? Sometimes I wonder if those families actually do exist, or if it's something that was invented to sell sappy movies. I look at my family and Frank's family and think, there's no way they exist. Deborah's family seemed pretty happy, though. Her mom and dad were together and she never saw them fight, which was a good thing. I wouldn't want her to go through that.