Dawn's Big Date

  At three o’clock, I slammed my locker shut and raced out the door. When I arrived at the coffee shop, Lewis was already sitting in a booth. He looked extremely uncomfortable as he played with the straw in his soda.

  “Hi, Lewis,” I said, remembering to use his name. “You look very handsome today.” (I wanted to get the compliment out of the way early.)

  “Thank you,” he said, giving me the old quivery smile. (I hoped he would say something about how I looked, but he didn’t.) “I got some menus,” he said, pushing one toward me.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said. “I’ll just have a soda.” (“Eating Tips” had recommended not ordering much. Boys expected girls to have dainty appetites.)

  Lewis looked disappointed. “Then I won’t have anything, either.”

  We looked at each other for a long, awkward moment. “Well, here we are,” I said, just to break the silence.

  “Yup. We’re here,” Lewis agreed.

  More silence.

  Suddenly the situation seemed too dumb for words. Who was I trying to kid? Only myself. I couldn’t keep up this new image. It was too much work. And obviously I wasn’t very good at it. I caught sight of myself in a mirrored panel on the wall. The truth was that I didn’t really like the way I looked. “Lewis,” I said. “I owe you an apology. A big apology.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. See, I’ve been trying to make you think I’m attractive and sophisticated. But I’m not. I’m sorry. I just wanted you to like me.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Lewis. “Could you give me that one more time? I’m totally confused.”

  “I don’t blame you,” I said. “The thing is, I don’t really look like this.”

  “What do you really look like?” asked Lewis. “Are you an alien life-form and this is just your human cover?”

  “No.” I laughed. “I really look like the plain girl in the first picture of me you received.”

  “I liked the way you looked in that picture,” said Lewis.

  “You did?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yeah. A lot. Why did you change?”

  “I just wanted to be different.”

  “Different how?”

  “Cool,” I replied.

  Lewis threw his head back and laughed. “That sure explains a lot,” he said. “I couldn’t figure out how you could write such sweet letters and then be so … I don’t know …”

  “Weird?” I supplied.

  “All right, yeah. Weird,” Lewis agreed.

  “You really thought I was attractive before?” I asked shyly.

  Lewis stopped laughing, but his dark eyes were bright and happy. “I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. I was counting the minutes until I could meet you.”

  “Do you think we could start over?” I asked.

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “Could you come to my house in an hour?”

  “Don’t you want me to walk you home?”

  “No,” I said, getting up. “I don’t want you to see me like this one more second. Just come to my house.”

  “See you in an hour,” said Lewis.

  I couldn’t get home fast enough. I slammed the door behind me and raced up the stairs. The first thing I did was turn on the shower. I stepped out of my clothes and into the shower. I washed off all the makeup and then unbraided the top of my hair. Then I rinsed out my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

  Pulling on my robe, I dashed to my room and dug in the back of my closet. Luckily I still owned a few clothes that I hadn’t “fixed.” I found a pair of faded blue jeans and a sweatshirt I’d bought in California that said “U.C.L.A.” on it. (That stands for University of California in Los Angeles.) Next I blow-dried my hair and let it fall naturally.

  “Welcome back,” I said to my image in the mirror. I turned to leave, then I turned around again. I applied a little mascara. I put on a touch of lip gloss, too. That was okay. I still looked like me.

  Nobody was home, so I had the kitchen to myself. I took some parsley from the refrigerator and chopped it in the food processor. I added olive oil, bulgar wheat, lemon juice, and chopped onion, to make tabouhli salad. Then I put the tabouhli in the refrigerator. After that I made up a platter of whole wheat crackers, chopped carrots, and celery. I set out a bowl of babaganoush (that’s baked, mushed eggplant with tahini sauce and spices) and a plate of hummus (that’s mashed chick-peas with spices).

  Here was my plan. No boys were allowed in when Mom and Richard weren’t home. So I’d take a walk with Lewis until a quarter to five. Richard had said he was going to be home early that day. Early means about four-thirty. I could invite Lewis in then, and show him how good health food could be.

  I was just barely finishing when the doorbell rang. The minute I opened the door and saw Lewis’s smile, I knew things were going to be all right. The quivery, quavery smile was gone. He now wore the wonderful, warm smile I’d seen in his picture. “Hi, Dawn. I’m Lewis,” he said.

  “Nice to meet you, Lewis,” I replied, extending my hand. “Do you feel like taking a walk with me? I’ll show you the old barn on our property, if you’re interested.”

  “I’m interested,” he said.

  We walked to the barn. I told him all about the secret passage and how it was probably part of the Underground Railroad. I showed him the trapdoor inside, to which the passage led.

  “This reminds me of the place where we used to spend summers,” he said, settling back in the hay. “It was a horse farm about two hours outside of Louisville.” He told me about the wonderful summers he and Logan had shared at the farm. I laughed when Lewis described how, years ago, he had tricked Logan into believing he was the ghost of a dead horse.

  “We were such crazy little kids,” said Lewis with a laugh. “I’d sit under his bedroom window, whinny, and say, ‘You will neeeee-iiigggh-ver leave this farm alive.’”

  “Poor Logan.” I chuckled.

  “Poor Logan, nothing. He got me back. One night he came to the window and dumped a bucket of oats on my head.”

  It was really easy to talk to Lewis. We laughed so much that before I knew it, it was five o’clock and Richard had arrived home. “Hey, remember in my letters I promised to convert you to health food?” I said.

  “I remember, but I was hoping you’d forgotten.” Lewis cringed.

  “Come on,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “You’re going to love it.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “If you don’t like it, I’ll cook you a hamburger,” I said confidently (praying I wasn’t wrong).

  Well, guess what. I wasn’t wrong. Lewis loved the food, especially the babaganoush. “Do you still want a hamburger?” I asked him.

  “Nope,” he answered, wiping his mouth. “I’m too full.”

  Just then we heard the front door open and close. Mary Anne was back. You should have seen her face when she walked into the kitchen. She looked totally shocked and confused.

  “Dawn has been introducing me to health food,” said Lewis happily.

  “I see,” said Mary Anne. “Did you like it?”

  “Yeah. Surprisingly, I did,” Lewis admitted. “But I better be going.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” I told Lewis, standing up.

  At the door, Lewis took my hand. “This was a great first date. It was better than I’d imagined. Would it be okay if I came by again tomorrow?”

  “I have a BSC meeting until six,” I said. “But can you come over in the evening?”

  “Darn!” said Lewis. “My aunt and uncle are dragging me out to see some relatives. What about Thursday?”

  “Thursday is good,” I said.

  “Great. We’ll do something special.”

  As I stood at the door, watching him walk down the driveway, I realized my dream had come true. Lewis liked me. And he liked me just the way I was.

  I shut the door and realized something else. Something less pleasant. Sooner or later I was going to have to talk to
Mary Anne. I decided it might as well be sooner.

  That evening, I was too full to eat dinner. But I sat at the table and picked, since Richard likes us to have meals together whenever possible.

  Dinner was quiet. Mom and Richard seemed tired from work. Mary Anne and I were still not talking to each other.

  As soon as the dishes were cleared and stacked, Mary Anne went upstairs. I was right behind her.

  “We have to talk,” I said, stepping into her bedroom.

  To my surprise, she agreed. “Do you want to go first?”

  “Okay,” I replied. “As you could see today, Lewis likes me the way I am. Or the way I was before I started taking advice from you. You gave me some really crummy advice, Mary Anne!”

  “You were the one who wanted a new image,” Mary Anne reminded me. “I didn’t start that.”

  “I know, but you told me it was a great idea. And then you started giving me all those magazines. Not to mention all the stupid dating tips. Why didn’t you just leave me alone?”

  “I should have,” said Mary Anne.

  “What?” That wasn’t what I expected her to say.

  “You’re right. I should have left you alone. I was just so sure you and Lewis could be a great couple that I went overboard. I wanted everything to be perfect. Now I see I was stupid.”

  “What made you realize that?” I asked.

  “Believe it or not, it was Norman Hill,” Mary Anne told me as she sat on her bed. “If the Hills weren’t so crazed about getting him to lose weight, they might notice all the likable things about Norman. Seeing him made me realize that, in a way, I was doing the same thing with you.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes. “You know what really hurt me the most?” I said in a choked voice. “I felt as if you didn’t think there was anything to like about me. You thought I should look different and act different. If you had just said, ‘You’re fine the way you are,’ maybe I wouldn’t have done all those dumb things.”

  Mary Anne burst into tears. “Oh, Dawn, I like everything about you,” she said. “But I don’t know any more about what boys like than you do. I struck it lucky with Logan, that’s all. So I was guessing about what Lewis would like, the same as you. I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

  “You mean you never used the popcorn trick?” I asked.

  Mary Anne wiped her eyes. “No. I had read about it in a magazine that afternoon. Since you’ve never had a boyfriend, I thought maybe you did need some changes to make Lewis like you. What did I know? But you’re just fine as you are.”

  “Lewis thinks so, too,” I said.

  “I see that. I guess we both underestimated him. We were treating him like ‘a boy’ instead of like Lewis. I’m sorry, Dawn.”

  “I’m sorry, too. It’s my fault as much as yours. Maybe even more.” Mary Anne and I hugged, sniffling. It was good to be friends again.

  “I feel bad that we wasted so much of Lewis’s visit. He’s leaving Friday night,” said Mary Anne.

  Friday night! That seemed impossible. I’d waited so long for this visit, and now it would soon be over.

  “Logan and I had such great plans, too,” said Mary Anne, flopping back onto her bed.

  “Maybe we can still have one really fun night out,” I suggested. “Lewis and I have a date for Thursday night. Do you want to try for another double date?”

  Mary Anne’s eyes brightened. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “If you don’t try to control it, and you don’t talk for me, and don’t tell me what to do. Especially if you don’t pinch me,” I answered sternly.

  “Sorry about that,” Mary Anne apologized, wincing at the memory. “I promise not to do any of those things. Do you want to go to another movie?”

  “No. We’d waste two whole hours not being able to talk,” I objected. My time with Lewis was too short to spend sitting in silence. “What about bowling?”

  “Is that too uncool?” Mary Anne asked skeptically.

  That made me laugh. Being cool was the last thing I wanted to think about right now. “It doesn’t matter at this point,” I said. “Besides, it might be fun.”

  “You’re right. Since you — and now Lewis — are health food nuts, we can go to Cabbages and Kings to eat,” said Mary Anne, naming my favorite restaurant.

  “Would Logan be willing to do that?” I asked.

  “I think so. I’ll ask. It’s my way of making it up to you a little bit.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “It is a nice restaurant. I’m sure you and Logan would find something you like. The soyburgers are really good.”

  “We’ll manage,” said Mary Anne. (She blanched.)

  Wednesday evening, the four of us got on the phone and arranged our date. After a little coaxing, Logan agreed to go to Cabbages and Kings. And everyone liked the bowling idea. We decided to meet right after school, so we could spend the longest amount of time together as possible.

  I hadn’t bowled in ages. But apparently Lewis and Logan had gone bowling together lots of times in Louisville. Their fathers were even in the same bowling league. The boys were really good.

  The big surprise was Mary Anne. She’d only bowled four times before, but she was great. She wound up with the highest score of anyone! (Lewis and I played as a team, and Mary Anne and Logan were another team. As I said, Mary Anne was the best. Then Lewis. Then Logan. Then me. Bowling doesn’t seem to be my claim to fame. But I didn’t care. It was fun.)

  At one point I took Mary Anne aside and whispered, “I read a magazine that says you’re not supposed to beat your boyfriend at sports. It damages his ego.”

  Mary Anne knew I was teasing. “When we go home, let’s dig a big hole and dump those magazines into it,” she said, smiling.

  “We can’t. They’re Stacey’s,” I reminded her.

  “Then we’ll give them back tomorrow.”

  After bowling we had the nicest time at Cabbages and Kings. Of course, Mary Anne, Logan, and Lewis kidded me whenever possible. “Where’s the seaweed?” asked Logan. “I was looking forward to a nice seaweed sandwich.”

  “Seaweed is out of season,” Mary Anne told him seriously. “But you might like the red ants. They’re very high in protein and fiber.”

  Lewis pretended to lift his shirt. “Perhaps we should put some salt on my shirt and eat it. It’s loaded with fiber.”

  “Very funny.” I laughed. “The food here is good.” I didn’t mind the teasing. Everyone was in a terrific mood and we laughed a lot. In the end, Logan and Mary Anne claimed to like the soyburgers they’d ordered. Lewis raved about his vegetable and pine nut casserole in cheese sauce. (I think I may have converted him to healthy eating.) And my barbecued tofu was terrific.

  “Should we call my father?” Mary Anne asked, when everyone was done with their dessert of red bean ice cream. (Which is really great!)

  We looked at one another. Richard would soon be picking us up. Once he arrived, the date would be over.

  “We still have a little time,” said Lewis. “Why don’t we take a walk around town for awhile?”

  We agreed that that was a good idea. It had gotten pretty cold outside, and a freezing wind was rushing up the street. But nobody seemed to mind. (Okay, I minded. But not enough to want to end the date.) We poked along, stopping to browse in the windows of the well-lit stores.

  While we were looking in the window of an antique shop, Mary Anne suddenly grabbed Logan’s sleeve. “Come with me,” she said. “I want to show you something in the window of Bellair’s.” (Bellair’s is a big department store, which was just up the street.)

  “What is it?” asked Logan.

  “I’ll show you,” Mary Anne insisted, pulling Logan away. Lewis and I started to follow, but Mary Anne shouted, “We’ll be right back.”

  Lewis and I stood in front of the antique shop, our hands jammed into our coat pockets. “I can never get used to this bitter cold,” I admitted, shivering. “You’re from the South. Is it warmer in Louisville?”
br />   “Only about ten degrees on average,” Lewis told me.

  “Ten degrees is ten degrees.” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind having an extra ten degrees right now.”

  Lewis wrapped his arm around me. “We can huddle together for warmth,” he said with a smile.

  Even though I’m tall, Lewis is taller. I fit neatly under his arm. He was right. I was warmer. But that wasn’t really why I felt so good. It was wonderful standing there with Lewis’s arm around me.

  Then something even more wonderful happened.

  Lewis kissed me. And I kissed him back.

  I can’t describe it to you. (But I’ll try.) It was as if time stood still and there was nothing else in the world but Lewis and me. There was only warm breath and two cold noses. Just me and Lewis, holding each other tight.

  When the kiss ended, Lewis kept his arms around me. I looked up into his brown eyes. “I’m so glad I got to meet the real Dawn,” he said.

  “I’m glad, too.”

  “Your first picture didn’t lie,” he added. “You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. And you’re as nice as your letters.”

  “So are you,” I said. (Not because, Everybody loves a compliment, but because I meant it.)

  Lewis and I might have stood there holding each other forever (or until we turned into ice sculptures), but Mary Anne and Logan returned. “We’d better call,” said Mary Anne regretfully. “It’s starting to get late.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed sadly. As we walked to the pay phone on the street, Lewis and I held hands.

  It’s funny how life works out. I’d planned to make Lewis like me as practice for finding another (local) boyfriend. But as we stood in the cold, waiting for Richard to pick us up, I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to kiss anyone but Lewis.

  I finished the letter just in time. Sarah came stomping into the living room. She was fuming with anger. “What happened?” I asked.

  “Elizabeth is a fish-breathed dweeb!”