Right. As we were leaving, Danielle mentioned she’d see us at the Spring Fling.
“It’s the hospital’s big annual fundraiser,” I explain. “Basically dinner and dancing at the Somerset Club. It’s two weeks from Friday.”
“And you’d like me to come?” she asks.
“If you don’t mind, I think it would be a good idea. If we were really in a relationship, I’d take you. And I think Nina’s going with her parents, so it would help me out.”
Ally hesitates a beat.
“But it’s fine if you have other plans,” I say quickly.
“No, I think I’m free. How much are the tickets?”
“I’ll cover your ticket, Ally. You’re doing me a favor by coming with me.”
Another pause. “Drew . . .”
“I’m not letting you pay for the ticket, Ally. It’s not up for debate.”
“Okay,” she agrees, but I can tell she isn’t entirely happy about it.
“I will need you to promise me something, though,” I say.
“What?”
“Promise you won’t call me Honeybun at the Spring Fling. Or ever again, actually.”
Ally bursts out laughing. “You liked that, did you?”
“No,” I reply, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“Would you prefer something else? Boo bear? Studmuffin? Loverboy?”
Boo bear?“I’d prefer to never speak of this again.”
“Oh, come on, Drew,” she says playfully. “I think Honeybun suits you.”
“Is that right?”
“Sure. And it seems like something I’d come up with. Unlike you, I don’t keep Shakespeare quotes in my back pocket. Where’d that come from, anyway?”
“All’s Well That Ends Well,”I reply, deliberately misinterpreting her question.
“I got that much,” she says. “But why can you quote Shakespeare? Being a neurosurgeon isn’t impressive enough?”
I hesitate for a second. It would be easy to lie here. I could say I took an English course in university because I needed an arts credit for med school.
But I don’t want to lie to Ally.
“My mom was a high school English teacher,” I explain. “Growing up, she dragged our whole family to those Shakespeare in the Park plays every summer. I think I was eleven the first time I went.”
“That seems young for Shakespeare.”
“Uh huh,” I nod. “It wasTwelfth Night. After the first scene, I asked Mom what language they were speaking.”
Ally laughs. “It does kind of sound foreign.”
“Yep. Anyway, I couldn’t follow it at all, and I hated it. Then, the next year, Mom said we were going again, and I begged her to let me stay home. Breanna was fourteen, and she offered to stay home with me. I might have pretended to be sick.”
