The long drive to my house out in the country was a welcome distraction. We didn’t have to look at each other’s blushing faces, and we could talk about random stuff.

“Oh, I have a very large dog at home, don’t be afraid of him, he’s a big baby. He will be outside when we get there.”
“What kind of dog?”
“Saint Bernard. He’s adorable!”
“Like Beethoven?”
“Yep! But we named him Abraham. Abe for short.”

“That house is haunted,” I pointed out the window, “they say. I think it’s just raccoons living in the walls.”
“You ever been inside?”
“Nope.”
“Then how do you know?”
“My dad said so.”
“You chicken?”
“Yeah! I’ll be honest! I never lie!”
“Right.”
“I don’t.”
“So I could ask you anything and you’ll tell the truth?”
“Yep.” Uh-oh, I thought, here comes 20 questions!

“How many boyfriends have you had?”
“Well, sorta one, we were too young to date, we held hands at lunch.”

“Have you ever kissed a boy?”
“Nope.”
“Seriously?”
“I guess I’m too much of a nerd.”
“You’re not a nerd, just smart.”
“Yeah, book smart. That’s it.”