Forbidden Sister (The Forbidden 1) - Page 24

We hurried to the corner, where he flagged a taxi. I took a deep breath when he opened the door for me.

I’m on my first date, I thought, and then I suddenly wondered if Roxy had ever had a formal first date or if she simply met boys places without telling Papa and Mama. I had no idea why that would make a difference to me now, but it did.

It was almost as if I wanted to be very sure that I didn’t do anything she had done.

That way, Papa would go on loving me forever, and I’d never end up without a family, living in a hotel, whether I was pampered and beautiful or not.

Loneliness, after all, hunts especially for the hearts of orphans.

6

I had no way to judge my first date with a boy, but to me, it seemed as if every moment that passed was better than the previous one. When I took off my trench coat in the restaurant, Evan’s eyes widened, and a big smile rippled across his face.

“Wow,” he said. “That’s a beautiful dress, but it’s only beautiful because you’re wearing it,” he quickly followed.

I blushed so deeply it made me tremble. “Thank you.”

I slipped into the booth quickly. For a moment, he just stood there looking at me.

“What’s that line they use in the movies?” he asked as he sat across from me. “Where have you been all my life?”

He was so good at these compliments that I began to worry that maybe Chastity was right. If there was one thing I didn’t want to be, it was gullible. Girls had to navigate a fine line, I thought. It was wonderful to have these nice things said about you, but how deep did sincerity go in them? Should they sound warnings? Should I graciously accept them or flick them off as if they were so much sparkle? I didn’t want to offend him, but I didn’t want to appear naïve, either.

“I was always just down the hall, Evan.”

“Yeah. Well, it serves me right for not looking in more than one direction.”

The waitress brought us menus, and we ordered soft drinks.

“I have a confession to make,” he said as he read the menu.

“So soon?”

He laughed. “Not that sort of confession. You know Buzzy Gibson? He’s a junior.”

“I don’t really know him.”

“Well, he was the one who told me to check you out. He’s going with Missy Wagner, otherwise you might be sitting here across from him tonight.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I don’t know him, but I know who he is. I mean . . .”

“He’s not your type? Girls make that decision quickly, I hear. At least, they do when it comes to who is definitely not their type.”

“Maybe. I don’t think I can speak for all girls, even most. I can only speak for myself.”

He widened his eyes. What I said obviously impressed him.

The waitress brought our drinks.

“I think I’ll have the chicken salad,” I told her.

“La même chose,” Evan said.

“Pardon?”

“He means the same thing,” I told her. She shrugged and wrote it down. “You pronounced that very well,” I said.

“Another confession,” he said.

Tags: V.C. Andrews The Forbidden Horror
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