“Thank you,” he says, smiling. It’s such an unusual reaction to me. Devin would probably tell me I don’t know anything about art and say self-deprecating things about himself. I was used to that. “It was an exchange of goods and services. I paint the walls, Jose gives me free food for life.”
“Aha,” I exclaim. “Good to know I’m a cheap date.”
“Not that cheap,” Justin says, refilling my glass. I sucked down the second glass a bit too quickly and realize that I’m actually nervous around Justin. “Have more wine. I did pay for that.”
“So what about my second question?” I ask him, raising one eyebrow as best as I can. I’m trying to give him a hard time, though I’d really like to know the answer. I’m finding myself in a precarious position of someone who knows a lot about me when I know almost nothing about them. “Since you get free meals, I’d assume you’ve brought lots of girls here?”
“Well, I did bring one girl here before,” Justin says with a smirk. “You may have met her. She’s short, fat, and loud and I call her ‘Mom’.”
I smirk back. “Very funny.” I pause and take a long sip of wine. “How is your mom?”
“Good,” Justin nods. “She’s asked about you.”
“Shit,” I whisper involuntarily. I’m sure there are millions of things Justin could tell her.
“I didn’t say anything bad, Jenna,” he replies, looking at me sincerely. “I just told her I was taking you out tonight.”
“Oh?”
He nods.
“Well what did she say to that?” I have to ask.
He is eating a chip loaded with guacamole, purposely stuffing his mouth, I think, to avoid the topic. “Well,” he says, finishing his bite. “She said to make sure I open the door for you and treat you like a lady.”
“She did not!”
He nods. “She definitely did.”
Now I’m smiling. “She’s cute.” Justin smirks yet again. I prefer it to his jaw clenching. At least I know I’m not making him angry. “So no other girls in your life? Either at the moment or before you happened to run into me at Jack’s funeral?”
“Are you not so subtly asking about my past?” I nod slowly. It feels good to get out tonight, and it’s fun to take the focus off of myself and hear about someone else. “Okay,” he says, “ask me anything.”
“Um,” I think, pausing and realizing he just managed to put me on the spot, even though I’m trying to grill him. Every girl dreams of asking a guy anything about his past but once awarded with the privilege, it’s slightly intimidating. “Tell me about your ex-girlfriends,” I say. There. Incredibly generic and leaves me open to follow up questions.
“Wow, um, okay,” Justin says, unable to avoid smiling. “There aren’t many to speak of. After you and Devin were out of the neighborhood, I had one girlfriend in high school named Shelley. Do you remember the McClellan’s? No? Well there was one in every grade level. I think you had Sean in your year.” I shake my head, no, though I imagine it was one of the forty Irish kids with red hair and freckles. “She cheated on me with this guy Patrick Martin our senior year. I thought I was going to marry her ever since we were fifteen, but that’s how high school relationships go. You think you’re with the love of your life and nothing interesting will happen to you after high school.”
“What a bitch,” I say, and he shrugs.
“Whatever. She was sixteen and cute, and I was seventeen and brooding. It sounds like one of your musicals.” I nod and smile. “She probably got depressed from the idea of being around me. At the time I thought the pain and heartbreak would kill me. Now I know she was meant to get pregnant before she graduated and have seven kids before she was thirty.”
“Seven!” I gasp. I can barely take care of myself. I can’t imagine having to take care of one kid at my age, let alone seven in a few years.
“I think there was a set of twins or triplets in there,” Justin explains. “You know the Irish.” I sure did. He smiles and finishes his glass of wine and looks at me. “What about you? Any high school boyfriends I should be aware of?”
“Not so much,” I say. I don’t offer up anything further for a minute. In high school I was a complete slut, but I certainly wasn’t able to refer to any of the sexual encounters I’d had as a boyfriend. I don’t want to be dishonest, though. “I wasn’t celibate in high school,” I explain, “but I didn’t really date. I acted pretty stupid in the backseat of a lot of cars but I can’t say I was ever in love with anyone or thought I’d get married like you did.”