“It’s nice to meet all of you,” said Brayden, friendly, even if a little bewildered.

Eddie, while uncomfortable with Angeline’s advances, could be perfectly outgoing in less bizarre social situations. He played up the brotherly role and shook Brayden’s hand. “I hear you guys are seeing a play tonight.”

“Yes,” said Brayden. “Although, I prefer the term drama. I’ve actually already seen this production, but I’d like to watch it again with an eye toward alternative forms of dramatic analysis. The standard Freytag method can get a little clichéd after a while.”

This left everyone speechless. Or maybe they were just trying to figure out what he’d said. Eddie glanced at me then back to Brayden. “Well. Something tells me you guys are going to have a great time together.”

Once we were able to extract ourselves from my well-wishers Brayden said, “You have very… devoted family and friends.”

“Oh,” I said. “That. They just, uh, happened to all be going out together at the same time we were. To study.”

Brayden glanced at his watch. “Not too late for that, I suppose. If I can, I always do my homework right after school because—”

“If you put it off, you never know if something unexpected might happen?”

“Exactly,” he said.

He smiled at me. I smiled back.

I followed him to visitor parking, over to a shiny, silver Ford Mustang. I nearly swooned. Immediately, I reached out and ran my hand along the car’s smooth surface. “Nice,” I said. “Brand new, next model year. These new ones will never quite have the character of the classics, but they certainly make up for it in fuel economy and safety.”

Brayden looked pleasantly surprised. “You know your cars.”

“It’s a hobby,” I admitted. “My mom is really into them.” When I’d first met Rose Hathaway, I’d had the incredible experience of driving a 1972 Citroën. Now I owned a Subaru named Latte. I loved it, but it wasn’t exactly glamorous. “They’re works of art and engineering.”

I noticed then that Brayden had come with me to the passenger side. For half a second, I thought he expected me to drive. Maybe because I liked cars so much? But then, he opened the door and I realized he was waiting for me to get in. I did, trying to remember the last time a guy had opened a car door for me. My conclusion: never.

Dinner wasn’t fast food, but it wasn’t anything fancy either. I wondered what Julia and Kristin’s opinion would be on that. We ate at a very California type of café, that served all organic sandwiches and salads. Every menu item seemed to feature avocado.

“I would’ve taken you somewhere nicer,” he told me. “But I didn’t want to risk being late. The park’s a few blocks away, so we should be able to get a good spot. I… I hope that’s okay?” He suddenly looked nervous. It was such a contrast to the confidence he had shown when talking about Shakespeare. I had to admit, it was kind of reassuring. I found myself relaxing a little bit. “If it’s not, I’ll find a better place—”