topic of conversation is, you keep asking him questions about himself. Act like you want to talk about nothing but his thoughts, interests, and friends. If he mentions the sky is blue, you ask what he thinks about that and when he first noticed it. Don't say a word about yourself, and he'll worship you by the end of the date."
We all stared at her for a moment. Then Aubrie said, "Don't guys think it's strange that you never say anything about yourself?"
Rachel tilted her chin down. "Like they even notice. All the guys I date think I'm the best conversationalist in the world."
"Wow," Samantha said slowly. "I'm not sure if that's incredibly brilliant or horribly manipulative."
"Don't you get tired of just talking about the guy?" Aubrie asked.
Rachel shrugged. "Sure. That's where kissing comes in handy."
"I'll try it," I said.
Samantha rolled her eyes, and Aubrie shook her head sadly, but Rachel gave me the thumbs-up sign.
Chapter 10
T he school day went by, haltingly slow at some times and breakneck fast at others, depending on whether I was excited or dreading my date with Tanner. Mr. Metzerol didn't hit me quite as much with his stick during my lesson with him, which I figured was progress. Molly and Polly were still slouching around, which wasn't.
Whenever I walked by him, Rick gave me dirty looks and mumbled things I knew I didn't want to hear. Rachel told me she'd heard through the grapevine that he thought I was responsible for Adrian breaking up with him. Which was typical Rick. I don't suppose it ever occurred to him that he had anything to do with it.
I knew Adrian would take him back in a second if he apologized—not even to me—just to her, but I wasn't about to suggest it. As far as I was concerned, his relationship with her could fade away, destined to be remembered with the same fondness as dental work.
I'd help her find someone new. Someone nice. Just as soon as she started speaking to me again. See, when you come right down to it, I'm much more forgiving of her than she is of me.
I changed my clothes three times and my hair twice before I went off to meet Tanner. Mom hadn't come home from work yet, so I left her a note and hoped she didn't call me on my cell phone with objections.
Tanner was already at the restaurant when I got there, and keeping with the trend, he looked even better than last time.
He smiled when he saw me walk up. "Hi again."
"Hi." Underneath the glow of his smile, I couldn't remember Rachel's instructions. In fact, I couldn't remember anything, like what to say next.
He didn't seem to notice though, and he made small talk while the hostess seated us at our table. Probably he was used to girls being speechless around him.
Dinner went surprisingly well. Mostly we stayed on safe topics—like our hobbies—we both loved skiing, and we made a date to go the first weekend after the lifts opened. We also talked about a lot of current events. I felt myself stretching to explain my opinions and the logic I'd used to reach them. He listened, and although he didn't agree with me about everything, he respected what I said. I could tell he was smart, and he made me feel like I was smart too.
When had Mike ever made me feel that way?
A few times the subject matter wandered dangerously close to identifying me as a high school senior. That's when I remembered Rachel's advice. When he asked what classes I had, I said, "Just the usual stuff. What about you? What's your favorite class?"
It was biology, something that slightly bothered him since he'd already decided to go the MBA route. It was his family's way of life. They ran businesses.
After that we talked about business, family expectations, and whether it was wise to strike out in new directions if other things interested you.
When we finished dinner we wandered over to Baskin-Robbins for milk shakes. Not because we were hungry; neither of us wanted to say good night yet. The night air chilled my face as we walked, a reminder
We all stared at her for a moment. Then Aubrie said, "Don't guys think it's strange that you never say anything about yourself?"
Rachel tilted her chin down. "Like they even notice. All the guys I date think I'm the best conversationalist in the world."
"Wow," Samantha said slowly. "I'm not sure if that's incredibly brilliant or horribly manipulative."
"Don't you get tired of just talking about the guy?" Aubrie asked.
Rachel shrugged. "Sure. That's where kissing comes in handy."
"I'll try it," I said.
Samantha rolled her eyes, and Aubrie shook her head sadly, but Rachel gave me the thumbs-up sign.
Chapter 10
T he school day went by, haltingly slow at some times and breakneck fast at others, depending on whether I was excited or dreading my date with Tanner. Mr. Metzerol didn't hit me quite as much with his stick during my lesson with him, which I figured was progress. Molly and Polly were still slouching around, which wasn't.
Whenever I walked by him, Rick gave me dirty looks and mumbled things I knew I didn't want to hear. Rachel told me she'd heard through the grapevine that he thought I was responsible for Adrian breaking up with him. Which was typical Rick. I don't suppose it ever occurred to him that he had anything to do with it.
I knew Adrian would take him back in a second if he apologized—not even to me—just to her, but I wasn't about to suggest it. As far as I was concerned, his relationship with her could fade away, destined to be remembered with the same fondness as dental work.
I'd help her find someone new. Someone nice. Just as soon as she started speaking to me again. See, when you come right down to it, I'm much more forgiving of her than she is of me.
I changed my clothes three times and my hair twice before I went off to meet Tanner. Mom hadn't come home from work yet, so I left her a note and hoped she didn't call me on my cell phone with objections.
Tanner was already at the restaurant when I got there, and keeping with the trend, he looked even better than last time.
He smiled when he saw me walk up. "Hi again."
"Hi." Underneath the glow of his smile, I couldn't remember Rachel's instructions. In fact, I couldn't remember anything, like what to say next.
He didn't seem to notice though, and he made small talk while the hostess seated us at our table. Probably he was used to girls being speechless around him.
Dinner went surprisingly well. Mostly we stayed on safe topics—like our hobbies—we both loved skiing, and we made a date to go the first weekend after the lifts opened. We also talked about a lot of current events. I felt myself stretching to explain my opinions and the logic I'd used to reach them. He listened, and although he didn't agree with me about everything, he respected what I said. I could tell he was smart, and he made me feel like I was smart too.
When had Mike ever made me feel that way?
A few times the subject matter wandered dangerously close to identifying me as a high school senior. That's when I remembered Rachel's advice. When he asked what classes I had, I said, "Just the usual stuff. What about you? What's your favorite class?"
It was biology, something that slightly bothered him since he'd already decided to go the MBA route. It was his family's way of life. They ran businesses.
After that we talked about business, family expectations, and whether it was wise to strike out in new directions if other things interested you.
When we finished dinner we wandered over to Baskin-Robbins for milk shakes. Not because we were hungry; neither of us wanted to say good night yet. The night air chilled my face as we walked, a reminder
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