“I never felt like this with anyone before,” he said softly, taking my hand. “I finally understand all those lyrics to all those love songs – ”
“I’ve heard that before.” I interjected in an even tone. I was careful to keep my voice un-accusatory. He pulled back. “Oh really? I guess men just line up to tell you how wonderful you are?” I stuck a straw in my Frappucino. “If you are honestly asking -”
“I am. I am asking you or I wouldn’t have said anything.” He crossed his arms. He had dropped my hand rather quickly onto the hard wood of our table top.
“In that case,” I answered breezily, “It isn’t just men professing love to me.”
“Women like you too, huh?”
“Or so they say. I never said ‘all women everywhere at once.’ ”
“Well obviously, right? I mean, my sister hates you. She says you’re a stuck up bitch and that body will change once you pop out a kid or too.” I smiled. “Or Bobby, I could live fast and fall in love with a beautiful girl who doesn’t slip the word ‘bitch’ into conversation when she’s annoyed. Or maybe I’ll find a nice boy who doesn’t quote the Cure while holding my hand in a Starbucks.” I stood up and shook the crumbs from my skirt.
He looked a little shocked. “Is there anything that impresses you?” I put on my sunglasses. “Of course – sincerity. I am always impressed by sincerity.”
It’s true. I might be continually unimpressed with life, but sincerity makes me blush furiously.
It’s so uncommon.