Free Playing with Matches by Brian Katcher Page B

time to mention I found their daughter horribly unattractive.
    Okay, maybe not
horribly,
but this was still not a date.
    Melody’s parents kept smiling at me. I kept taking nervous gulps of my soda in an effort to cover the lack of conversation. If this had been a sitcom, I could have accidentally said something grossly inappropriate or sat on the family Chihuahua or something. Anything to cut this tension!
    “Ready to go, Leon?” Melody had appeared from down the hall. She was wearing a blouse and a skirt; apparently, this was a dressier occasion than I had prepared for.
    “Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Hennon,” I managed to squeak as I hustled her out the door.
    “Be back by eleven,” cautioned her father, the familiar distrust already edging into his voice.

    It was not nearly late enough for the campus of the University of Missouri–St. Louis to be deserted. Students still walked the quad, laughing, shouting, holding hands. I looked forward to the not-too-distant future, when I’d join them as a freshman.
    We’d just sat through a semiamateur production of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
I didn’t get a lot of it and kept having to whisper “What’s that guy doing?” to Melody. There was a funny bit about a guy with a donkey head, though, and some of the actresses wore very low-cut dresses, so the production wasn’t a complete wash. Melody seemed to enjoy herself.
    I’d wanted to hurry out to my car right after the curtain call. (Actually, I’d wanted to leave much earlier, until Melody explained it was only the intermission.) Melody asked if we could go for a walk. I didn’t like what that implied, but it was her birthday, and we didn’t have to be back until late.
    We didn’t say much as we wandered past darkened classroom buildings, noisy dorms, and silent parks. It was a warm spring night, the first time in months that you could go for a walk and not be miserably cold. When we reached the quad, Melody stopped.
    “Leon, thanks for a great birthday.”
    I wasn’t sure why she was thanking me; we had paid for our own tickets.
    “Sit down, Melody. I’ll give you your present.”
    “Oh, Leon, you didn’t have to get me anything!” She sounded so grateful I wondered if I should have gotten her something better. Or nothing at all.
    We sat on a concrete bench and I pulled the unwrapped DVD from my inner jacket pocket.
    “
The Twilight Zone
? I love this!” She scanned the list of episodes on the back of the case.
    “Well, I had a feeling.” More like a random, shot-in-the-dark guess.
    “Thank you. This is the best birthday ever.”
    “C’mon…”
    “I’m serious. This is the first time I’ve ever done anything on my birthday, except have dinner with my family.”
    This suddenly felt very dateish. Out to the theater, a long walk, a special gift…If I’d been out here with any other girl, I’d have been plotting how to put my arm around her. It would be a long time before I’d do anything alone again with Melody. It was safer that way.
    “So you ready to get back, Melody?”
    “In a minute.” She stood there staring at
The Twilight Zone: Season One,
which I’d gotten out of the half-price bin. If you only looked at her eyes, you’d think she was holding a diamond bracelet. A single tear trickled over her shortened nose.
    “Hey, none of that.”
    She wiped her eye on her sleeve. “I’m sorry. This is all new for me.”
    “What is?” I gritted my teeth. Buttercup was right. Melody was going to say “Having a boyfriend,” and I’d be forced to marry her rather than tell her that I could never find her attractive.
    “Having a friend, Leon. I know you do stuff like this all the time, but it means a lot to me that you’d have lunch with me and take me out on my birthday. No one’s ever done that.”
    I thought about blowing the comment off. Just telling her it was time to go back. But she needed to talk. Plus I was touched. Without much effort, I’d given her a special