Free In Love with a Gentleman by Elisa Ellen Page B

as I follow Ethan and Catherine to a car parked in front of the townhouse. Anne and the other guests wave from the doorway. “Good night!” they say. “Thank you for the crêpes!”
    Catherine and I sit down in the backseat, and Ethan revs up the motor and drives off. After the lively chatter at the party, it seems too quiet in the car.
    Catherine asks me softly, “When do you have to be at school Monday morning?”
    I whisper back, “Ten o’clock.”
    “You’re lucky!” she replies. “You can sleep in.”
    “Yes, but I have a longer trip to school than you do,” I say. “I have to leave the house at least half an hour before class starts.”
    “But that’ll change soon; your new landlords are coming back from their vacation. They live in the village, which is closer.”
    “Yes, I move there next week,” I say.
    We fall silent again. I think about my upcoming change in accommodations. I really like staying with the Seafields, and I would prefer to spend the whole year there, but it’s not an option. The house only has one bathroom, and there always seems to be a bottleneck there. And their relatives can’t visit with me in the guest room. Besides, there’s always some petty, or occasionally significant, dispute between mother and daughter. Linda is enormously stubborn, and puberty seems to have made it worse. I find it embarrassing to witness their arguments over makeup, clothes, and boys. I think it makes Melissa uncomfortable, too.
    The silence in the car is almost oppressive. Catherine is too shy to make conversation with our charming driver. But it feels rude not to at least try.
    I clear my throat and say, “What a nice evening. I think it was so great that Anne invited everybody.”
    Ethan says, “Do you?”
    “Of course! It’d be a shame to pass by your fellow teachers on a daily basis and never get to know them.”
    “Mmm,” Ethan says. “How can anyone really get to know somebody well in just one evening? I think such gatherings are rather pointless.”
    Well, that’s pretty revealing. Apparently, he isn’t even a tiny bit curious about us—or me. Catherine gathers her courage and says, “But it’s so nice when people cook and eat something delicious together.”
    Ethan doesn’t say anything. I think he’s being pretty darned rude for not at least complimenting us on our delicious crêpes. Evidently, Ethan’s not big on social niceties. We fall into silence once again. I mull over the events of the evening. When I think about the crêpe landing right in front of the cat’s nose and her stunned face, I can’t help it—I start to giggle uncontrollably.
    Catherine glances at me and smiles.
    I say, “Kitty!”
    Then Catherine starts to laugh, too.
    Ethan doesn’t laugh with us. His dark eyes are watching us in the rearview mirror. Maybe he’s worried that we’re so tipsy, he’ll have to carry us out of the car. Maybe he thinks we’re going to vomit in the backseat. Who knows?
    We reach Catherine’s place first. She thanks him politely and wishes us both good night, then disappears into the house.
    Being alone with Ethan makes me nervous. It’s oppressively silent in the car. I’d like to learn more about him. I’d like to ask a thousand questions. Who are you, really? Why are you suddenly so important to me? Why is it that my heart beats so loudly in your presence that I’m sure you must be able to hear it? And—most importantly—do you feel it, too? Do you notice the electricity between us?
    Instead, I stay mute and look out the window. He pulls in front of Powlands Farm and waits a moment. I do, too. Who’s going to say something first? Surprisingly, he does.
    “It seems to me that you have a very joyful spirit,” Ethan says.
    I’m stunned. Of all the things that I expected him to say, that was the least likely of all. My mind is spinning. Why did he say that? What’s he implying—that I’m some sort of ridiculous silly goose? Does he find me repulsive? Is he