"Yes—that was a surprise, too. He noticed I didn't have a jacket last night," I explained.
"So are you going out again?" Her eyes were starting to bug out again.
"He offered to drive me to Seattle Saturday222 because he thinks my truck isn't up to it—does that count?"
"Yes." She nodded, eyes protruding from her skull.
"Well, then, yes."
"W-O-W." She spelled the word emphatically, letting her eyes recede back into their sockets before continuing. "Fredward Cullen."
"I know," I agreed. "Wow" didn't even cover it.
"Wait!" Her hands flew up, palms toward me like she was stopping traffic. "Has he held your hand yet?"
"No," I mumbled, thinking of last night's failure at the table. "It's not like that."
She looked disappointed, and maybe I was too.
"Do you think Saturday... ?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"I really doubt it." The discontent in my voice was poorly disguised.
"What did you talk about?" She pushed for more information in a whisper. Class had started but Mr. Varner wasn't paying close attention and we weren't the only ones still talking.
"I don't know, Jess, lots of stuff," I whispered back. "I mean, what do you and Mike even talk about?"
She almost took the bait and opened her mouth to start telling me all about Mike's horse-dreams, but caught herself and said, "Oh no you don't. Please, Bella," she begged. "Give me some details."
"Well... okay, I've got one. You should have seen the waitress flirting with him—it was over the top. But he didn't pay any attention to her at all." Let him make what he could of that.
222. Every decade, Seattle celebrates its native cultures and traditions by holding a year-long, 52-day program of Seattle Saturdays. The theme for 1995's Seattle Saturdays was "Seattle on the Rise!"