I nod enthusiastically and follow him inside. The building is quaint and toasty warm compared to the crisp September morning. I scan the menu. “What kind of tea are you getting?”
“Why do you assume I’m getting tea? Just because I’m English?” He winks. “You know, we don’t all drink tea. Some of us need loads more caffeine to wake us up.”
Think before speaking, Ellie!
Silence grows as we wait in line. I can’t think of what to say. I rehearsed conversation starters in bed last night.What’s your favorite TV show? Do you think British comedies are as funny as Americans do? How do you get your hair to do that amazing swoopy thing?But now the topics all sound ridiculous. And it doesn’t help that I can see other people checking out Will.
“Thanks for bringing me here today,” I say finally. “I’ve barely seen any of England yet.”
“Happy to. I looked forward to it all week.”
“Me too. I’ve been counting down the days.”
Will hands me my coffee and we sit at a tiny bistro table by the door. “So, tell me about yourself.”
I blink. I’ve got nothing. “Um, I don’t know. There’s not much to tell. My life is much more boring than yours.”
“But you don’t know my life. How do you know I’m not the most boring person in England?” His smile is wicked. “Perhaps I spend all my time working on my stamp collection. Or know every word of Elvish. Or have a room filled with porcelain dolls.”
I laugh. “That doesn’t sound boring—just creepy.”
“Too right. I went overboard there.” He leans forward. “But the point remains the same. Have you ever thought that your life might be as intriguing to me as my life is to you?”
I shake my head.
“Well, start thinking it. I don’t spend my time on things that don’t interest me.”
My stomach flips like I’ve dropped from an enormous roller coaster. My mouth is glued shut, but I force myself to think of something to tell him. I can’t let him realize he might be wrong about me.
“I go to—I mean, I went to Waterford Valley High in DC,” I say, catching myself. “My mother processes claims for an insurance company. And, I’ll admit, she really loves watching Jane Austen adaptations in her spare time.”
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Sounds like our mothers would get along splendidly. Like I said, she named me Willoughby for a reason. And what about your father? Is he also perpetually in love with damned Mr. Darcy?”
“Eh, I don’t really see my dad. My parents divorced when I was little. He sends birthday cards and checks, that’s about it.”
Will cocks his head in sympathy, but I shrug. I know it’s strange to talk about my father that way, but our lack of a relationship isn’t something I mourn. I know Mom is happier without him and she’s been all the family I need.
“I’m sorry. Though I’m a little jealous of that relationship. Only cards and money from my father would be an absolute blessing. He’s entirely too involved with my life... or at least in trying to shape it into something he approves of. I keep waiting for him to realize I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, but—” He shrugs, his expression dark for a moment, but then he waves a hand and his face turns smooth and easy again. “What kinds of things do you like?”
“Well, um, listening to music. And fantasy novels. And scary movies as long as there isn’t too much blood.”
“I’m obsessed with scary movies! Especially the ones where the tension keeps building until you think you’re going to burst and then—boom!—someone jumps out and you about fall out of your chair.”
“Yes!” I laugh and he joins in. “One time a few years ago I jumped so big I literally threw my popcorn tub onto the person behind me. Great movie, but I was bummed I’d wasted all my snacks.”
“We’ll buy an extra tub when we go.” He smiles. “There’s no point in going to the cinema without popcorn.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I let myself relax. Talking to him isn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be. There’s something warm and friendly about him. Should I tell him my more embarrassing interests too? The acorns didn’t go over well at his party, but thatwaspretty odd. Maybe he won’t think the other things are embarrassing—just adorable. “Another thing I really like is”—I take a deep breath—“unicorns.”
“Unicorns?”
“Yeah...” My stomach sinks at his dumbfounded expression.Abort!Too soon for unicorns! Much too soon. “Never mind, I don’t know. I liked their horns and stuff.”
“Oh...” He takes a sip of coffee as if he’s buying time. “You mean you liked them when you were a kid? Yeah, I liked the silliest things when I was younger too. I couldn’t get enough of Paddington Bear. Books, shows—I probably had twenty of the toys. My mum would even dress me in a blue duffer coat and pack me marmaladesandwiches when we’d go to the park. She still talks about it.”
Well, he’s nailing the adorable vibe, but I’m sure Will doesn’t still own a Paddington Bear hoodie to wear when he’s feeling down. My level of cool is never going to match his.
