“Yeah? I py guitar too.”

  “I just py at guitar,” admitted Ronnie. “It hasn’t been out of the closet in weeks. My father’s the real pyer.”

  “Ah.” He raised an eyebrow and gave her a stern look. “You aren’t Martin people, are you? We Gibson pyers can’t be seen with that sort.”

  “How about cheap Harmony pyers?” She wasn’t about to tell An her dad had a Martin guitar tucked away in its case under his bed.

  “From the Sears and Roebuck catalog?”

  “Maybe.”

  They sat without saying much, working on their milkshakes, in no hurry to go out into the heat and humidity. It was still early, not even sunset, and An had picked her up at the Brooks store as they closed. Closed for the st time. Ronnie had to take some time to say goodbye to them. Oddly, she hadn’t cried. She’d expected to.

  He looked at her for a moment and then asked, “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “You’re wearing women’s underwear?” Where had that come from? She never said things like that.

  “Darn. And I wanted it to be a surprise.” He became suddenly embarrassed. “That doesn’t sound so good. I wasn’t actually going to show you my underwear.” His voice sort of trailed off and both sat, not knowing quite what to say next, for a few seconds. “Actually, I’m wearing a swimsuit under these jeans. Almost always do, so I’m ready to get into the water.”

  “But that wasn’t the secret, I’d guess.”

  “No. The secret—I’ve never been on a date before. Not a real pick-up-a-girl-and-take-her-somepce date like this.”

  “I’ve never picked up a girl and taken her on a date either.” She hadn’t really been surprised by the admission, though it might not have been something she would have guessed.

  “You’re on a roll this evening. You’re not like that when you’re with your friends.”

  She had to ugh. It was quite true. “They come up with things to say quicker than I do!”

  He nodded sympathetically. “I know how that goes. Oh, yes, I do.”

  “We’re just both kind of slow, I guess.”

  An gave that a smile but seemed to be in a mood to speak seriously. “If I script my lines first I’m okay. I have to write them in my head.”

  “But do they ever sound as good when we actually say them?”

  “How could they?”

  An had seemed like a big change from someone like Daryl yet in some ways, not so much. These were the same old familiar trappings of a date, weren’t they? They were going to the same kind of pces. Still, they were saying things to each other that she and Daryl never would have.

  She didn’t really know this boy. Could she, in the couple months of summer they had left? Maybe she shouldn’t worry about it. Maybe her dad was right and it was just a summer romance. She wouldn’t mind having one of those.

  Ronnie Deerfield having a fling? Unbelievable!

  “Both your parents are vets, right?” she asked.

  “They are. And my big sister is in college learning to be one too.”

  “How about you? Or am I being nosy?”

  “Probably but I don’t mind. I’m not sure where I’m headed. It just won’t have anything to do with animals! I’m thinking maybe anthropology. So, how about you? I can be nosy too.”

  “I’m as much in a muddle as anyone. I have a deep-rooted fear I’ll end up as an English teacher.”

  “That would give me nightmares,” said An.

  It did give Ronnie nightmares. She thought she didn’t want to dwell on it any more. “I sort of know your family, thanks to our brothers. It’s almost as eccentric as mine.”

  “No way. Mine is way more odd.”

  “Prove it.”

  “My parents are Buddhists.”

  “Dad’s an atheist. Militant.”

  “We live in a veterinary clinic. No going home from work.”

  “My father the architect doesn’t want any new buildings in Naples.”

  “Now, that’s hard to top. But—I’m not sure either of us can match up with the Summerlins. I barely knew they existed a week ago.”

  “You barely knew I existed a week ago.”

  “A wasted lifetime up to that point!” An blushed after saying that but soldiered on. “You knew them, right?”

  “Not all that well, and mostly through Kris and Joey. But Jam has taken to the two of us, they tell me, and says we can hang at their house anytime.”

  “Now?”

  “Hmm, maybe not. It’s raining anyway.”

  But their milkshakes were long finished so they stepped out of the drug store, on the corner of Fifth and Eighth. Its entrance faced the intersection, with a faded red tile sidewalk directly in front of the thick gss door. They watched the rain drip from the overhang for the better part of a minute. “We can stay undercover if we go through the arcade,” said An. “Then we’ll have to run for it.”

  Daryl would have suggested bringing his car around. An was unlikely to ever think of things like that. He treated her like—like her friends did. That was it. She wouldn’t put it past him to offer to race her to the car, the way Joey might.

  Ronnie thought she both liked that and didn’t.

  The Fifth Avenue entrance to the arcade y just a little to their right. Ronnie had known it all her life; it might well have been constructed before she was born. There used to be a barber shop down toward the other end, where her dad would go every two weeks. Those were the days when Naples was still a sleepy southern town and lots of businesses closed on Wednesdays or at least Wednesday afternoons.

  “I suppose you’ve had enough of book stores,” said An, breaking into her reverie. They were standing outside the Book Nook.

  “Never,” she replied. “Do you shop here?”

  “Yeah. I pick up a paperback from time to time.”

  “Me too. This used to be a favorite after-school haunt when I was in junior high.”

  “I was school-bussing it and couldn’t do that.”

  He seemed undecided about suggesting anything so Ronnie opened the door herself and stepped in. Ah, blessed air conditioning! “This was a bit of a rendezvous point for Joey and me back then. I was over at the junior high and she was at Saint Ann’s and this was around halfway between.”

  “And not Kris? I thought the three of you came as a set.”

  “She’d go to the park and we’d all meet there.” The back entrance to the arcade opened right across the street from Cambier Park.

  An was looking over surfing magazines but didn’t pick one out. Ronnie had already turned from the magazine racks and was perusing novels in the center row. An came up beside her. “I didn’t know you liked science fiction.”

  “Not science fiction,” she told him. “Fantasy. Like this.” She pointed to the paperback of The Fellowship of the Ring.

  “Tolkien? I read The Hobbit this past year. It was okay.”

  “Oh, you truly should get into The Lord of the Rings. In the correct order! I started on the third book, not knowing any better, and got thoroughly lost.” She picked up an unfamiliar title and scanned the back cover blurb, before repcing it.

  “Burroughs is good,” An said, nodding toward a rge selection of his books. “A Princess of Mars was my gateway drug to science fiction at twelve.”

  “That’s practically fantasy,” she pointed out.

  “I suppose it is. Okay, I’ll try Tolkien.” He picked up the first book in the trilogy.

  “I could lend you mine.”

  He put it back. “Then I can afford something else. This looks interesting. The Worm Ouroboros.”

  “I’ve heard it’s good. You’ll have to lend it to me when you’re done.” She only hesitated a second before telling him, “I’m not sure you’re pronouncing it correctly.”

  “Neither am I.”

  The rain had sckened by the time they were at the rear of the arcade, looking out into the parking lot. “It’s early yet,” he said. “This is around the time I should have been driving up to your house to pick you up.”

  “It’s too soon to eat again. That shake filled me up.”

  “Movie?” He sounded so unenthusiastic Ronnie had to ugh.

  “Anything would be better than that!” All the movies she ever watched with all the boys she’d ever dated merged in her memory into one indistinct, drawn-out night of utter boredom.

  “Then how about this?” He bent down to put his lips to hers, lingering only a few seconds.

  Yes, that would be better. Much better. She reached up and drew him back down to her. Much longer this time.

  They straightened up and looked at each other, nothing more, for what felt like eternity but probably was quite a bit less. At st, Ronnie turned her eyes to the parking lot. “It’s stopped raining,” she said. “How about going down to the beach?”

  “Sounds good.”

  That it did.