Ann’s is a homey restaurant near the foot of the Claremont Hotel. The street was lined with beautiful maples, which were only now turning color in our temperate climate.
I greeted the hostess and made my way in, looking for Carrie. I spied her at a far table against the back windows. As I approached, I realized she was deep in conversation with someone.
“Hello!” I chirped, alerting them to my presence.
“Sammie!” Carrie exclaimed and leapt up to hug me. Someone was perky this morning. “Sammie, I want you to meet someone. This is Derek.” A slim guy with dark blue-black skin, maybe twenty-three, twenty-four stood up and offered his hand. He was vaguely familiar and was wearing slim black jeans, black high tops, and a black hoodie.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Sam.” His smile was pleasant. Carrie couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think Carrie has mentioned you before.” I looked to Carrie for help. I didn’t know this guy from Adam.
“Sam, I met Derek at Curtis’s house. On Friday. Or was it Saturday?” She turned and grinned at Derek.
“It was Saturday,” he clarified. “We met at breakfast.”
“Oh. Cool. That must be why you look familiar,” I surmised.
“Derek can’t stay Sam; he was just dropping me off.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, trying to be polite and interested in my best friend’s new boy-toy, even though I really wanted to get her to myself. I needed a second opinion on my current predicament.
“Yeah, I gotta study.” He turned to Carrie and gave her a peck on the lips “See you tomorrow?”
“Text me,” she said, her eyes full of stars. Oh, she was crushing hard on this guy.
“Will do. Sam, nice meeting you.” He gave me a nod and then turned on his heel and left.
Once he was gone, I turned to Carrie.
“Study?” I teased.
“For your information, he is a graduate student in Psychology at Berkeley.” She grinned at me.
“Huh. Cool. He seems young for that.”
“The word you are looking for is youthful. That’s what I like about him—his youthful spirit. He doesn’t take life too seriously,” she mused.
Oh yes, she had it bad for this boy. Although Carrie had a new crush practically every other week.
“That’s a nice sweater. Is it new?” She pointed at my top from Mr. Moneybags.
“Uh, yeah. I got it while you were in L.A.” It was a white lie. I didn’t want to paint the wrong picture of David right off the bat.
The waitress came by, and we both ordered eggs benedict and coffee.
“You got it. I’ll be right back with your coffee.”
As soon as she was out of earshot, Carrie leaned in.
“Ok, lady, spill it. How was your date with David Keith?” I noticed she used his full name, like it was a brand name.
“It was ... really nice,” I said slowly. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pour my heart out to her. Or at least not all the gory details. I started to edit the conversation carefully.
“Did you end up going to the symphony?”
“Yes, I didn’t know what to expect, but it was really lovely. The building was beautiful.”
Carrie shot me a look.
“Sam, I don’t care about the building. Tell me about what happened with David.”
Oh shit. That’s when I realized she didn’t know. She didn’t know we had already had sex in the pantry by the time we all sat down together at the party. She was expecting to hear an update on which base we were at. Not that I had rounded home again and again. I blushed. The waitress dropped off two mugs of coffee. I picked up the little metal pitcher on the table and added cream slowly, buying myself time.
“Sam, don’t hold out on me.”
“We slept together.” I desperately tried to keep my face from breaking out in a full blown-grin, but I failed.
“Sammie!” she exclaimed. A couple other diners glance over at us, and she lowered her voice. “You did not.” She looked at me incredulously. Carrie knew, more than anyone, that I was not the
I greeted the hostess and made my way in, looking for Carrie. I spied her at a far table against the back windows. As I approached, I realized she was deep in conversation with someone.
“Hello!” I chirped, alerting them to my presence.
“Sammie!” Carrie exclaimed and leapt up to hug me. Someone was perky this morning. “Sammie, I want you to meet someone. This is Derek.” A slim guy with dark blue-black skin, maybe twenty-three, twenty-four stood up and offered his hand. He was vaguely familiar and was wearing slim black jeans, black high tops, and a black hoodie.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Sam.” His smile was pleasant. Carrie couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think Carrie has mentioned you before.” I looked to Carrie for help. I didn’t know this guy from Adam.
“Sam, I met Derek at Curtis’s house. On Friday. Or was it Saturday?” She turned and grinned at Derek.
“It was Saturday,” he clarified. “We met at breakfast.”
“Oh. Cool. That must be why you look familiar,” I surmised.
“Derek can’t stay Sam; he was just dropping me off.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, trying to be polite and interested in my best friend’s new boy-toy, even though I really wanted to get her to myself. I needed a second opinion on my current predicament.
“Yeah, I gotta study.” He turned to Carrie and gave her a peck on the lips “See you tomorrow?”
“Text me,” she said, her eyes full of stars. Oh, she was crushing hard on this guy.
“Will do. Sam, nice meeting you.” He gave me a nod and then turned on his heel and left.
Once he was gone, I turned to Carrie.
“Study?” I teased.
“For your information, he is a graduate student in Psychology at Berkeley.” She grinned at me.
“Huh. Cool. He seems young for that.”
“The word you are looking for is youthful. That’s what I like about him—his youthful spirit. He doesn’t take life too seriously,” she mused.
Oh yes, she had it bad for this boy. Although Carrie had a new crush practically every other week.
“That’s a nice sweater. Is it new?” She pointed at my top from Mr. Moneybags.
“Uh, yeah. I got it while you were in L.A.” It was a white lie. I didn’t want to paint the wrong picture of David right off the bat.
The waitress came by, and we both ordered eggs benedict and coffee.
“You got it. I’ll be right back with your coffee.”
As soon as she was out of earshot, Carrie leaned in.
“Ok, lady, spill it. How was your date with David Keith?” I noticed she used his full name, like it was a brand name.
“It was ... really nice,” I said slowly. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pour my heart out to her. Or at least not all the gory details. I started to edit the conversation carefully.
“Did you end up going to the symphony?”
“Yes, I didn’t know what to expect, but it was really lovely. The building was beautiful.”
Carrie shot me a look.
“Sam, I don’t care about the building. Tell me about what happened with David.”
Oh shit. That’s when I realized she didn’t know. She didn’t know we had already had sex in the pantry by the time we all sat down together at the party. She was expecting to hear an update on which base we were at. Not that I had rounded home again and again. I blushed. The waitress dropped off two mugs of coffee. I picked up the little metal pitcher on the table and added cream slowly, buying myself time.
“Sam, don’t hold out on me.”
“We slept together.” I desperately tried to keep my face from breaking out in a full blown-grin, but I failed.
“Sammie!” she exclaimed. A couple other diners glance over at us, and she lowered her voice. “You did not.” She looked at me incredulously. Carrie knew, more than anyone, that I was not the
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