I felt to make sure the paper was still in my pocket. I thought I might call him to hear how his voice sounded on the phone. I wasn't calling him. That's exactly what he would expect me to do. I wasn't that easy.

Yes, I was. I was exactly that easy, but I wouldn't call him. Chet was way out of my league and I knew it, but I wanted him so bad I could taste it.

"Z."

"Huh. Oh, what?"

"You've been standing there for five minutes. It's time for you to go home."

"Oh, yeah, I was getting my skateboard, Mr Hitchcock."

"Uh huh," Mr Hitchcock said. "See you tomorrow. Are you okay."

"Yeah, I have something on my mind," I said.

"He's been on your mind since he drove away," Mr Hitchcock said.

"He has not," I objected.

"Uh huh. See you tomorrow, Z."

I dropped my skateboard on the sidewalk in front of Hitchcock's Market.

I stood in front of the house, not remembering skating home. I set my skateboard against the wall next to the front door.

"Hey, Mom," I said, kissing her on the cheek as we met on my way to the kitchen for a glass of milk.

"Your father will be home in a few minutes. We're doing Italian. He got a double order of lasagna for you."

I turned after drinking half the glass of milk.

"I'm starved. Garlic bread?"

"He always brings plenty of garlic bread, Zane."

"Yeah, he does," I said, going into the living room to see the paper.

I had the paper on my lap when my father came in, but I hadn't read it. I was looking at the small sheet of paper with Chet's number on it. I put the paper back in my pocket. I wasn't going to call him. That's all there was to it.

"Chet," I said to myself,

The lasagna I liked was plentiful. The garlic bread was fresher than fresh. I ate three pieces of bread with a ton of lasagna. My appetite came back a week ago. My mind was mostly on eating and the ice cold glass of milk I refilled twice. I helped Mom clear the dishes. I checked to make sure I knew where the extra lasagna went in the fridge. I'd check on it later tonight.

I went upstairs for a shower and a casual evening. I didn't do much in the evenings. I might check AMC to see if there was any Film Noir on tonight. Before my shower I set my phone and piece of paper with Chet's info on my night stand.

I usually showered after dinner, because a hot shower relaxed me. If I laid on my bed to watch TV, I might fall asleep. Once I was asleep, a bomb couldn't wake me up. I'd sleep until after the sun came up. I was tired after I showered.

I dried my hair while sitting on my bed. My eyes caught a glimpse of the paper with Chet's phone number on it. It was right next to my phone. I picked it up and read it a few times. Maybe I was memorizing it. Maybe not. Maybe I'd call him. Maybe I wouldn't call him. What would I say? If his boyfriend answered?

I was such a coward. I wanted to hear his voice. Tell him how hot he was. How stupid was that? He knew exactly how hot he was. Why did he have to walk into Hitchcock's Market? I didn't need to fall in love with him. I didn't want to fall in love. I was sure I was over love, at least until the scars healed. It was too soon to go looking for trouble.

Why wasn't life ever easy?

I didn't really go looking for it. It kind of walked into Hitchcock's, while I minded my own business.

Why Me?

A guy who looked like Chet was trouble. I knew it. He knew it.

I picked up the paper he wrote on, holding it in front of my eyes.

I said the number out loud. I knew I was too chicken to call him. What if his boyfriend did answer? Then, what would I say.

'Hello is the Prince of Wales there?'

Maybe I'd call just to hear him say, "Hello."

I'd hang right up. I liked his voice. I liked him. He liked me. What kind of reason was that to fall in love with a guy I didn't know? I wouldn't fall in love with him. Yes, I would. Why couldn't my life ever be easy? Why was I such a coward?

I should call him and tell him, "I'm not falling in love with you, Buster."

No, I shouldn't. Then, he'd know I was thinking about him. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He's probably got two boyfriends, and he wasn't adding me to his harem. I wasn't born yesterday.

Why didn't he shop at Kroger?

He was nice. He seemed to like me.

"Chicken. Why can't you just dial the damn number. It's easy. Say hello, this is Z, stupid."

No, not you, me.

My phone started to ring.

I looked at the screen. It wasn't a number I knew. I looked at the piece of paper in my other hand.

It was Chet. He called me. He couldn't live without me. I knew it.

"Hello," I said as if I'd been running to get to the phone.

I fumbled the phone and it skittered across my floor with me in chase.

"Hello," I said, fumbling the phone again, but managing to hold on to it this time.

"Hello."

"Z?" his husky voice asked.

"Yes, it's Z."

"Did you drop your phone?" Chet asked with mischief in his voice.

"No," I said. "Yes," I came clean.

"You busy?"

"No! I'm just. I just. I was showering. Just showered, I mean. I don't know what I mean. Why did you have to call me?"

"I'm disturbing you? I can call back."

"Yes. No. I mean, I don't know what I meant. Don't call back. I mean lets talk now that you called."

"I'm not disturbing you?"

"Not in the way you mean," I said sounding flustered.

He laughed.

"I just got out of the shower. I was drying my hair if you must know. I wasn't expecting anyone to call."

"Come on. You knew I'd call. Why do you think I asked for your phone number? You thought I collect phone numbers without using them?"

"No. I don't know what I thought. I asked you for your phone number. I didn't call you," I said.

"But you wanted to call me. Tell me you didn't want to call me. Go ahead, but I'll know if your lying to me."

"Yes, but I didn't call you. So there."

"No, you didn't. Let's cut to the chase. When are we going out?"

"Where?" I asked as if I cared where we went.

"I don't know where. I don't take guys out that often. You tell me where you want to go, and we'll go there," he said.

"I go to work. I surf Wednesdays. I go to MacDonald's a fair bit. I don't go anywhere else."

"I'll pick you up and bring you here. It's a nice place. It's comfortable."

"I'm not that easy," I said for some reason.

"I'll respect you, Z. You are still younger than me. I'm not sure if I'm maybe too old for you. You looked quite young the first time I saw you."

"Old? You aren't old. I don't go out on casual dates. Life is complicated enough."

"You know you want to go out with me. Tell me you don't. I'll get off the phone and never call you again if you tell me that."

"No ..., I won't tell you that. You know I couldn't take my eyes off you. I don't want to get mixed up with a guy that looks like you," I said.

"Who?" Chet said.

"Who, who?"

"Mixed up with a guy who looks like you," he corrected.

"Me?"

"What do I look like, Z?"

"You know what you look like. You look like someone who should be dancing in LA. You're hot and I'm not getting mixed up with a guy who looks like you."

"Who is beautiful?"

"You're beautiful. Don't tell me you hadn't noticed."

"I called you, Z. Remember? You're hot. Let's call it a draw."

"No one wants me. I don't date. I don't go out. Doesn't matter how I look."

"Look, I haven't done this in a while. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. We'll just go a step at a time, and if you still don't want anything to do with me, well, we'll stop seeing each other."

"You've got us breaking up before we get together," I said.

"I want you to be comfortable. Whatever that takes, I'll go along with it."

"Why do you have to be so nice?" I asked, not wanting an answer.

He didn't answer for a minute or two.

"I'm exactly who you want to be mixed up with, Z. I intend to get mixed up with you, if you let me, and I want to stay mixed up with you. You may as well accept it. I made up my mind," he said.

This wasn't how I expected a conversation with Chet would go.

"You didn't hang up on me. Does that mean I have a shot?"

"I couldn't hang up if I wanted to. Yes."

"Yes, you intend to hang up, or yes, you'll go out with me?"

"I'll go out with you, yes," I said.

"You've got a nice voice," he said. "I like your voice."

I wanted to mention Skip. He was my friend. He was looking for Chet. I didn't need to tell Chet right away. I didn't need to tell Skip right away. I didn't know what I needed to do.

"I, ah..., thank you."

"Look, I know this is too fast, and I'm in no hurry. I want to see you. I want to be with you, Z. We'll do it any way you like. I'm not going anywhere. I lead a quite life and I'm not going anywhere."

"You trying to tell me that boys aren't beating your door down?"

"I know the guys at Tevo's. I don't go out with them. I work four nights a week. The rest of the time I'm here. No one beating on my door. You could if you want. I wrote down my address."

"I've seen you. You're hot. Why isn't someone knocking your door down?"

"Too hot for my own good, maybe. I was in the fast lane in LA. It came close to killing me. I got out of there. I haven't dated since I came back here."

"Who is the guy you were shopping for?" I asked.

"Tevo. T is Tevo. He's my boss. He's the one who dragged me out of the fast lane to come here to go to work for him. He saw me dance. He saw how close I was to self-destructing. He yanked me back into the here and now. He put me to work."

"He doesn't live with you?" I asked with suspicion in my voice.

"He lives with his wife and three daughters. I work in his restaurant. It's complicated and I can tell you all about it, but not right away. I'm over my past, but I don't know if I'm ready to go back over it all. I will tell you, but maybe not before our first date."

"You just happened to be in Hitchcock's buying goodies for your boss? What's that about?"

"It's complicated, Z. I'll tell it all to you sooner or later, but let's get to know each other a little first. I have a good feeling about you. You're cute and charming and you fluster easy. I like it all. I like you. Go out with me, please? Won't you go out with me?"

"Yes," I said.

I clamped my hand over my mouth so i couldn't say anything stupid.

"I wanted to be sure you would. We'll go at your speed. MacDonald's and maybe a drive out to the beaches. Haven't been to the beach since I came back."

"What do you do?"

"I work and stay to myself. Like I said, I lived in the fast lane for long enough to know it was time to slow down."

"You danced professionally."

"I was paid to dance. I was a headliner at a club called Over the Rainbow."

"Never heard of it," I said.

"It's in Hollywood. I was trained by a woman who was a professional dancer. She introduced me to the guy who hired me. I danced with his daughter. It's complicated, Z. I'll tell you anything you want to know, just not right away."

"Okay. I'll go out with you. I don't go out much either. I mean I work and go surfing, and that's my life. It's a good life. I was in love with a guy who joined the Navy and he's stationed in Asia. That's a long story too," I said.

"We have time, Z. I want to know everything about you."

"I was going to call you," I confessed. "I had your phone number in my hand when you called me. That's why I sounded like an idiot at first."

"You know I couldn't take my eyes off you?" he said.

"I guess. I don't do well with compliments. I'm nothing special. I know it."

"Oh, man, are you ever wrong. I'll shut up, but I've seen you up close. You're hot."

"I was tongue tied. I sounded like a goofball."

"That's amazing?" Chet asked. "I felt like you were extremely helpful."

"I'm not. I mean, I get flustered when I meet a guy I like."

"You do like me?" he asked, seeking to pin me down.

"Yes," I said. "I like you. Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not that easy. I am, but I try not to be," I said, thinking I'd gone goofy again.

Chet laughed.

Chet called me. I didn't have the nerve to call him, but he called me.

How cool was that?

"What are you doing?" Chet asked.

"Drying my hair. I told you, I just got out of the shower," I said.

"Yeah, but I wanted to hear you say it again. I like showers too," Chet said.

I laughed.

"I bet I know what you're thinking," Chet said.

"What?"

"How nice it would be to shower with me," he said boldly.

"I was not. I was, but how did you know?"

"Just a hunch. You have a nice voice. Goes with your nice face and fantastic body. Talk to me," he said.

"I do not. My voice is squeaky. I don't like my voice," i said.

"I could listen to you all night, Z. You have a lovely voice. You have a habit of selling yourself short."

"I don't,"

He laughed.

"You have a nice laugh," I said.

"Thank you," he said. "I haven't laughed much lately."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated. I've been trying to figure out who I am. It's hard work and not at all humorous."

"I bet," I said.

"Did I bother you?"

"I've been bothered ever since you came into Hitchcock's today. I can't stop thinking about you," I said. "I don't usually act that way around customers."

"Good. I haven't stopped thinking about you either. When can I take you out? Where are we going besides MacDonald's?"

I laughed.

"When do you want to go out?" I asked.

"Tonight," Chet said. "Is tonight too soon for a date?"

"No, it isn't, Chet, but we aren't going out tonight. I'm not falling in love with you so cut it out right now. I like you and you're beautiful and you make my heart skip a beat, but I am not falling in love with you," I said.

I didn't believe a word of it. I'd never met anyone who made me feel the way Chet made me feel.

"Same here, Z. The last thing I need is to meet some gorgeous guy I can't take my eyes off of. I've got too much to do to fall in love. When are we going out? I can't wait to see you again."

"I work every day but Wednesday. I stay late Tuesday, I'm off between five and six on the other days. I'm off Sunday."

"We aren't going out tonight?"

"We aren't going out tonight."

"Can I call you tomorrow."

"We eat at seven. I'm in my room by eight, except Tuesdays. I work late and they keep my plate warm for me."

"I'll call at the same time. Is that okay?"

"Same time is fine. Tomorrow's Saturday. I work until about two on Saturdays. I usually go straight home and I got nowhere to go tomorrow night."

"I'll count the hours," Chet said.

"Give me a break. This isn't Hollywood. I'm not falling for you, Buster."

"I know you aren't, but I'll grow on you," he said softly.

"I bet. You'll be gone before this month comes to a close."

"We'll talk about that the first of next month. You sure we can't go out tonight," he persisted. "I'd love to see you without your apron on, Z."

"Call tomorrow night, Stud. Same time as tonight and I might not pick up."

"Same time as tonight. I like you, Z. I like you a lot," he said.

"I saw you a second time," I said.

"Today?"

"No. It was in the same spot. You were in the storm drain skating toward me. I was on the bridge. You didn't look up. I was about to run to the other side of the bridge to yell for you to stop. I had my board. I wanted to skate with you."

"What happened? I didn't see you."

"I ran into the side of a van. Knocked myself silly."

"You didn't?"

"I did. The driver wanted to take me to the hospital. I didn't go. I wasn't hurt. I was embarrassed. I really wanted to know you."

"Now you know me."

"Now I know you aren't a figment of my imagination."

"You're something, Z. Let's go slow. I'm going to fall in like with you. All the signs are there. I just want you to know that. No hurry. Let's just see each other. Not get too serious. See what happens. I'll call you tomorrow. Don't forget me."

"I won't ever forget you, Chet," I said.

"I'll hold you to that, Z," he said.

"Goodnight, Chet."

"Goodnight, Z."

I made a point of breathing. I hadn't breathed for most of the conversation.

I wouldn't fall in love with him. I wouldn't tolerate it.

I didn't know how to prevent it.