The evening was great. Nearly magical. To me, anyway. And I knew Lori felt the same. When we all walked into the country club together,

we all followed Trent's lead. He was greeted by a waiter, the kind that have a towel draped over one arm.

The waiter, who was even wearing a tie, addressed Trent as 'Mr. Trent' and asked us all to follow him to our reserved table.

I'll admit to being a tad intimidated at first, but after a while I relaxed since it was so much fun. We had duck confit, and asparagus, with a Cobb salad

served before the main dish. I'd never had duck before, and I was fairly sure that Guthrie hadn't, either. But the taste was so good, and he must have

thought so, too, because he ate all of his. We just had water to drink, but the glasses it was in made up for that. They were tall, and clear at the top,

fading into a royal blue color near the bottom.

It was so much fun that I was enjoying every moment. I'd never been anywhere to eat where there weren't any menus offered before you ordered. The

fancy-dressed waiter merely stated what their special was that evening, and all six of us had the same thing. I wondered what folks did that didn't

want that particular food that night. Maybe they could request something else, or maybe they came to eat only on the nights when they liked the entree that

was being offered. And, even though I didn't love or even really like asparagus, I ate it.

It was while we were finished, and all standing up, and Kenny was pulling out my chair for me, that it occurred to me for the first time that it must

be terribly expensive to eat here like this. I hadn't thought of that part of it all week. I'd only thought of the fun and excitement of it.

I knew Trent would have enough, and I wasn't even too worried about Kenny being able to pay for his and mine, but Guthrie-that was

something else. I instantly felt guilty. And nervous. What if Guthrie didn't have enough money? There was no way to even know how much

the food had been, with no menus and no visible prices. I tried to catch Guthrie's eye without being obvious about it, and when I did finally

manage it, I made the signal for money rubbing my thumb over the tip of my index finger and middle finger.

He gave me a look meant to put me off, and held up one hand just briefly, as if to say, 'don't worry about it.'

I found a moment to whisper to Kenny about it, and he whispered back, 'it's alright'.

So we all got ready to leave, and the waiter stood by the door, holding it as we passed by, telling us to have a good evening.

No money exchanged hands at all. I was puzzled, and curious, but apparently it was the way it was done, and I thought I would

wait until later to ask Lori, or Kenny about it.

It was a short drive from Arnold back to Angels Camp. Kids were pulling up to the school all over the place in the school parking lot. There were

horns honking, and kids laughing and yelling, and mostly everybody looked so different, all dressed up now.

I had the best time. Kenny and I danced every slow dance together, and some of the fast ones. In between the six of us sat together

and talked, and drank the punch that the PTA was serving. It was hot in the gym, and even though I'd had a lot of fun, it was sort of a relief

to come out into the cool air when the dance was over. Kids were calling out goodbyes and see you laters. Lori said she'd call me the next day,

and I told Kristen goodbye, and Kenny and I headed back to my house.

That's when Kenny told me that usually, members at the country clubs had a flat rate for food per month that they were expected to use. Then, whatever

the meal turned out to cost was taken from that flat fee.

"So, I'm giving Trent some money so he can give it to his dad, and Guthrie is, too," Kenny said. After that we talked about the duck entree, and

what we'd thought of it.

I was sitting next to Kenny and he was driving pretty slowly. Because of deer, he said, but I knew it was also to use up every minute

we had together before curfew. His fingers weaved in and out of mine.

"Wish you could wear your promise ring," Kenny said.

"I know," I said, softly. "I just don't think it's the right time to tell them all yet." I felt as though I needed to reassure Kenny, yet again, that

it had nothing to do with him.

"It's not you," I reminded him. "They really like you. Hannah says you're like part of the family-"

At that, Kenny turned to look at me in the darkened truck cab. I could tell by his tone that he was pleased. "Hannah said that?"

"Yes. She did." Hannah had also said that Marie and Kristen and Ivy felt like family, as well as Kenny, but I didn't tell Kenny that part of it. I wanted

him to feel special. Not to feel that it was anything to do with him as the reason I was hesitant to tell Adam or Brian or Hannah or anybody about

the promise ring upstairs in my jewelry box.

We drove slowly up the long driveway, and Kenny parked, turning off his headlights.

"I had fun," I said, into the quiet, as Kenny wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"I did, too," Kenny said. And then, sweetness that he is, he added, "Every time I'm with you is fun."

I leaned into his side. "I think you're pretty awesome, too."

We sat in silence for a few moments, and then he leaned over to kiss me. One kiss led to another, and finally we broke apart, breathless.

"Damn, Harlie," Kenny said, sort of low, and he sounded like the old, ornery Kenny right then.

I knew what he meant. Sitting in the truck like this didn't make it any easier to say goodnight.

"I better go in," I said.

Kenny turned on the dome light, to look at his watch. "It's 11:27."

"Three minutes to spare," I said, lightly.

"Yeah," Kenny said. He opened his door, and got out, and I scooted out after him.

We walked up the front steps, hand in hand, and saw Guthrie's headlights turning into the driveway then.

Kenny leaned forward and gave me a light kiss. Nothing like what we'd exchanged in the truck.

"I can't come over tomorrow, right?" he asked, to be sure.

"No," I said, with regret. "I guess not. That's what Adam said. And-I do have to try to do some studying."

"Okay. Call me if you can, later," he said.

Guthrie was getting out of his truck, slamming his door, and bounded up the stairs, whistling.

We said our goodbyes, and Guthrie and I headed inside together.

Adam was waiting up, and I was surprised to see Clare still up, as well.

"I wanted to stay up and see you when you got home," she told me. "Hannah tried to stay up, too, but she was so tired. Was it fun?"

"It was so much fun!" I said, and Clare looked really glad.

"Good. You can tell me all about it in the morning," she said. "How about you, Guthrie? Did you have fun?"

"Yeah. I did," Guthrie said, sounding as if he was surprised by that himself.

"Alright. Night, both of you. Night, Adam," Clare said.

We all told Clare goodnight, and Adam went to switch off the outside porch light, and then laid a hand on Guthrie's neck.

"How was the country club?" he asked.

"The food was good," Guthrie said, and Adam laughed.

"Sure, the food would be what you think of first," Adam said. "How about you, sugar? Did you think the food was good, too?"

"It was duck," I told him.

Adam turned off one of the lamps. "Duck, huh?" he asked, as we walked towards the stairs.

"Yes, with asparagus," I said. "And the duck has this sauce on it, sort of a sweet sauce-"

"Sounds good," Adam said. At the top of the stairs he said, "Time to get to bed, both of you. No reading, Harlie."

"Okay," I told him, giving him a side hug. "Night, Guth."

"Night, Har," Guthrie said, and I went into my bedroom, while Adam and Guthrie walked on down the hallway to their own rooms.

I changed into my pajamas, and brushed out my hair, and went to the bathroom, washing my face. I remembered my diabetes shot just

in time. I slipped down the back stairs to the kitchen, and did that, and then went back up again. Adam was coming out of his bedroom as I

came back up.

"Your shot," Adam said, in reminder.

"I just did," I told him. "I remembered it just now."

"Okay. Good."

I went to hug him again. I was so full of happiness right then. I was to have the memory of that night to hold close in the weeks ahead.

If I'd known just how really dark things were going to get for me, I might have stayed awake a little longer, so as to make the happiness last a bit more.

7