Читать книгу The True Story of Canadian Human Trafficking - Paul H Boge - Страница 11

chapter four

It was time to make a decision.

Ever since she had received the message Do you want to meet? Abby had been a nervous wreck. Her mind and heart flipped back and forth about what to do, what this meant and how, when or (gasp) if to respond.

Her English teacher talked about Victorian writers. That interested her. She looked forward to reading a new book. But during most of the class her mind was on Jake. What would he be like? Would she measure up? Would he still have interest in her after they met? Would she have staying power? The little bit she did catch of class included an assignment on choosing two books, each from a different author during the reign of Queen Victoria in England. So many to choose from. So many she had already read. The last class of the day proved to be the longest.

Finally, the bell rang.

She left class and immediately looked at her phone. Had he re-sent the request? Had he given up on her for taking so long to respond? Why was this so hard to decide?

What’s the big deal? Get together and go for a fun time. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. No problem.

But what if I go and I do like him but he turns me down? What if I don’t make the right first impression? What if I’m myself and he doesn’t like me? Do I pretend to be someone else at first and be the person I think he wants me to be? Or do I just go as myself? If I go just as I am, will that be enough?

Will he love me for who I am?

Maybe I should talk this through. Maybe I should give this a second thought. Who to talk with? Mom? Mom would be all right, I guess, but this is teenage stuff. She wouldn’t get it. Dad? Forget it. He’s not around, and besides, it’s still teenage stuff. Then again, he is a guy. He would have advice, wouldn’t he? Forget it. He won’t be home until late, and I would need him to respond now. Kedisha? Yeah. Kedisha would be cool. She would promise to not say anything. She would be able to help me out with what to do.

Glancing down the hallway through a maze of students, Abby saw Kedisha at her locker. She was about to call out to her friend when she noticed Kedisha’s boyfriend approaching her. The two of them talked for a brief moment, Kedisha laughed at something he said; then the two of them walked down the hall in the opposite direction from Abby.

No matter. I can make up my own mind.

Abby pulled out her phone. But just as soon as she had done so a battle began inside her mind.

You can do this.

But what if he doesn’t end up liking me?

What’s not to like? Stop being so pessimistic. You’re a great girl. And he’s a great guy.

A guy I hardly know.

A guy you’ve gotten to know in cyberworld, and now it’s time for real life.

I don’t know.

Message him back and say yes.

We don’t have anyone in common. I might not be who he thinks I am.

Three letters. Y-e-s.

No. No. O-k-a-y.

Okay? That’s way too casual.

She typed in “It would be great to meet!”

Did that sound too excited? She erased the exclamation point and replaced it with a period. Was that too serious now?

Arrgh. Just send it.

Abby reread her last message. People passed in front of and behind her, like an endless stream of traffic on the 401. Now or never. She pressed send before she could change her mind.

She put the phone in her pocket. Walked down the hallway towards the nearest exit. Pushing the panic hardware on the door, she released the catch and let herself out into the afternoon. Her phone beeped. She recognized the tone. She looked at the message. Jake.

“Great. 7:00 tonight?”

That was fast. What she busy tonight? Did it matter?

“Sounds great!”

He texted the name of the restaurant. She sent a thumbs-up. Looking up, she thought the sky had never looked so blue before. But if she had looked farther in the distance, she would have seen rain clouds approaching.

Abby had changed her clothes four times and was now further away from making a decision than when she started. She sat on her bed. Glanced at the clock. Just make up your mind. But so much was riding on this first impression. What if I don’t meet his expectations? What if I gave a certain impression online and now he meets me in person and he doesn’t like me? What if …

She settled on a dark pair of jeans and a long-sleeve grey shirt. She searched through the mess on her closet floor and dug out a light jacket despite the heat. She put it on. Kedisha had commented the other day that the blue brought out her eyes. She checked and rechecked her makeup. Hair down. Poker straight. Here goes nothing.

The subway ride to the Yorkdale Mall station seemed shorter than normal. She was both excited and terrified to meet him. She hoped the excited part would win out.

She knew the restaurant. It was at the mall. She had never been to it before. Too expensive for her bank account.

What am I doing?

I’ll be fine. It’s just a get-together.

Wait a minute. Who else knows I’m here?

It’s a restaurant. It’s public. But whatever you do, don’t go back with him. Don’t accept a ride. No matter how nice you find him. You don’t know him that well. If he offers, just politely decline. Now go and have some fun.

She arrived at the restaurant. Soft lighting. Dark furniture. She looked in and saw a tall hostess in an all-black dress that hugged her body. Black pumps. Toned arms. And tanned legs that stretched from here to Vancouver. Great. I can understand why they have models at these restaurants, but would it be possible to have ones that don’t totally show me up? First date, too. Like I’m not dying already with potential comparisons. Relax. Relax. It will be all right. Wait. He hasn’t seen me yet, and I could just bolt. If I go now, I can catch a movie. What’s playing tonight?

“Are you meeting someone tonight?” the 10 at the greeting station asked.

Yeah. And don’t steal him from me, okay?

“I am,” Abby said. “We have a reservation—”

“Abby?”

Easygoing. The voice was as soft and low as she had imagined. Something in our perception of sound attaches personality to a voice. And when Abby heard his, she relaxed. She turned around. Here goes nothing.

A picture come to life. Tall. Well, taller than her. Golden-brown eyes that looked even better to Abby in person. An unmistakable genuine vibe.

“Jake?”

“You look great. Thanks for coming.”

Any thought of backing out was swept from her mind.

I’m glad I followed through on showing up. Who knows? We’ll see where this leads.

“You too.”

Did that come out right? Did my “you too” mean I think he looks great too, or did it mean that I was thankful he came here as well? Or did it refer to both? Wait! Add this: “Thanks for asking.”

“Of course. Want to get a seat?”

“Sure thing.”

“Restaurant or lounge?”

Restaurant. I don’t want to be rated against all those girls in the lounge.

“Whatever you prefer.”

“How about the lounge?” he said to both her and the hostess. The hostess nodded with a smile that revealed to Abby that she was exhausted, yet she put on a good front despite her condition. “The soccer game is on,” he added to Abby.

“Great.” That word came out in a high pitch instead of the casual tone she had intended. Her stomach did a somersault.

The bar was done in a light blue marble that oddly matched her eyes to perfection. Straight-backed chairs surrounded mahogany tables. Wide-screen televisions hung around the room. Low volume. The kind of place where you could spend a lot of time talking without having to shout.

They sat down at a table. Abby half-expected, half-hoped he would hold her chair for her, then dismissed the thought when he didn’t. Guys don’t do that anymore. Get with it.

A waitress approached the table, just as stunning as the first but with creamy skin and spun-gold hair. Do they have a model-making machine back there? The waitress smiled and asked for their drink orders. She hid her exhaustion better than the hostess. Jake smiled back. Abby felt a flash of jealousy.

“I’ll have a vodka martini,” he said.

Awkward. He’s clearly drinking age. His age wasn’t totally clear on his profile. I’m going to feel like an idiot when I say Coke. Or even worse, I try to order an alcoholic drink, she asks my age, and I feel like the kid playing soccer by herself. What to do. What to do.

“Do you make a good cappuccino by any chance?” Abby asked.

“The best.”

Crisis averted.

The waitress left to fill their orders.

“It’s great to see you in person,” Jake said.

“You too.”

Seriously? Come on, girl. Can’t you say something besides “you too”?

“And it’s really nice of you to have taken all that time to message with me.”

Don’t you dare say it.

“I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.”

Okay. That wasn’t great, but at least it was a complete sentence. We’re into a conversation now. First few awkward moments behind us. Lift-off was good, and we’re about to reach cruising altitude.

“Thanks. You’re a great person, Abby. It’s easy to connect with you.”

Flutter. Flutter. The waitress brought their drinks. Abby said thanks. Jake didn’t acknowledge her, never taking his eyes off Abby. Was he into her?

“So what kind of food do you like?” he asked.

“Oh, everything.”

“You like lobster?”

She loved lobster. Had it with her family at her last birthday celebration. They took a picture. She posted it online, though she had since forgotten.

Abby smiled. “I do.”

“Lobster and steak combo. Calamari to start. What do you say?”

“I’m all in.”

“Perfect.”

They talked about her schooling. Her soccer. The books she had read. When the food arrived, they alternated between laughing, eating and cheering at the soccer game. She found herself at ease with him. What was I so afraid of anyways? And despite all the other girls walking around, she felt the comfort that came with being with someone who valued her, who cared about what she was saying. He wasn’t just listening because he had to. He had chosen to be there.

Just before the second half kicked off, after all the food was gone and just before he received his second drink, he looked at her in the soft light of the lounge. Their eyes met. The nervousness of having to talk to fill silent space left them. She could just be herself. No pretending to like bands she really hated or plastering a smile on her face. Just herself. And when he saw her, she knew the verdict was coming. He could have other girls. No problem. She was convinced of that. But did he want her?

“You’re beautiful, Abby.”

She’d never heard that. Not from someone outside her family. Her dad had said it. A while ago. A long while ago, in fact. But this felt different. This was an objective point of view. It came from someone who didn’t have to say it. Parents sort of do. Jake didn’t.

Did he?

He moved on to talk about World Cup qualifying, but his words kept running through her mind.

They were still engrossed in each other long after the postgame show finished. How do three hours go by so fast? Then came the lull in the conversation when both people realize it’s time to call it a night.

“Thanks for a great evening, Jake.”

“Sure thing. Can I give you a lift home?”

Oh boy.

Logical Abby and In-Love Abby began arguing with each other.

Remember your plan.

I do remember my plan, but it’s different now. He’s a good guy.

Subway. Then bus. End of discussion.

He’s a great guy. I’ll offend him if I don’t.

Try to keep some objectivity about this guy. You had a nice evening. Call it a night.

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“You sure? You know we Canadians are always being too polite.”

“Eh?” she said.

“Eh?”

They both laughed.

“I almost forgot!” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a box wrapped in black wrapping paper. “For you.”

Abby sensed the guilt people feel when someone gets them a gift and they don’t have anything for them in return.

Just be honest with him.

“Jake, you shouldn’t have. I … I feel bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Sure you did. You came here tonight. What more could I ask for?”

“This feels awkward. I don’t know what to do. Do I open it now?”

“Only if you want.”

She unwrapped it. Opened the box. Oh my.

A gold necklace with a small purple stone reflected the light back at her. Thin enough to be elegant. Large enough to carry value.

“Jake.”

“Just a small thank you. Have a good night, okay?”

“You too.”

Speechless, she followed him out to the parking lot. Said goodbye. Smiled back at him over her shoulder as she walked towards the subway entrance. He waved back. Soon he was out of sight. Despite the cool air, Abby felt the warmth that comes with being in the presence of someone new who also turns out to be someone great. The ride home could have taken forever. She had all the time in the world as she thought back about her evening.

When she arrived, her mother asked her where she had been.

“Out with friends,” she said.

That was odd. She had a friend in Kedisha. But friends plural was slightly out of the normal. Abby didn’t want to involve her mom. Not yet. She wanted to trust her own judgment. Make up her own mind before reaching out to her mom for confirmation.

Retreating to her room, she placed the necklace on her bedside table and put her phone showing a picture of Jake beside it. So this is what it feels like? This is what it feels like to be a girl in love. She stared at her phone until the soft draw of sleep came over her.

Abby drifted off to her dreams.