I look at him and smile. “I live right down there.” I point down the street, to the right. “I walk to school. Tell your mom to pick you up at my house.”

“Really?” he asks, seemingly happy.

“Totally.”

We walk to my house, not really chatting, but getting in step with each other. I wonder if it’s a good idea bringing him home—I barely know him—but at the same time, I’ve known him my entire high school career. He’s always been in my classes; we just never hung out.

“What’s that?” he asks as we approach our very red front door. My mom wanted something bright. This is definitely bright.

I look at the small metal decoration on the doorpost and say, “A mezuzah? It’s a Jewish thing. It has a piece of the Torah inside. It’s just something we have.”

“For luck?”

“Um, sort of.” Truth is I kind of know the story behind it, but also don’t? I know we’ve always had it. I know all the Jews have one. I unlock the door and walk in.

“When we moved into our new place, my mom hit a coconut on the door.”

“That’s weird. Why?”

“Same—good luck for us.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling bad for the “weird” comment. “Cool. Sorry. I didn’t know.” He shrugs and follows me inside. “Um, my mom should be home soon. I texted her to say you were coming.”

“She’s okay with it?”

“Totally. Honestly, I think she’s happy I have a guy coming over.” He raises his eyebrows, and I explain, “Every dude is like a possible husband. Don’t be alarmed; I’m not marrying you. You’re not Jewish.”

“Okay. I was worried there might be some big surprise ceremony and I’d be, like, trapped for life.”

“That’s what you think of me?” I joke. “That if we ended up together, you’d be trapped?”

“Well, if we were married within two days of hanging out, yeah. If you wait a third day, I may feel more comfortable.” I laugh, then lead him into the living room, at ease with our banter. “My mom’s kind of the same,” he continues. “Only with Hindu girls. Too bad there aren’t many around.”

“Does she expect you to marry one?”

“Not expect—hopes, I think.”

“Do you hope you will too?” I ask curiously. My mom is interested in my nonexistent dating life, and she jokes about my eventual marriage to a Jewish doctor, but I also know she isn’t serious. I know she won’t mind, since my dad isn’t Jewish.