I gave him a quick nod and hurried past. Outside the classroom, I caught the end of one girl’s comment to her friend: “… Lucas Canton? Totally choiceworthy.”
Chapter 16
He walked into Cuppa the next day, as I was finishing my shift. Instead of going to Doug at the counter, Lucas came to my station, resting his tanned arms on the high granite surface of the bar.
“You have to place your order over there,” I told him, trying to ignore the way my heartbeat had suddenly gone staccato. “No special deals, not even for my TA.”
“I came to see you. Can I take you to dinner?”
My stuttering heart felt like it had stopped. I looked quickly at Doug, stalling for composure, but he was busy counting the till. “Tonight?”
“You’re almost finished here, right?” And, in fact, I was. He had timed it as if he knew my schedule.
Lucas waited for me on a bench outside, which was a relief. I didn’t want to talk about him with Doug, or worse, not talk about him and just let the awkwardness of my maybe-date hang in the air. I could picture Doug’s raised eyebrows and disappointed eyes, the lower lid wincing ever so slightly. But he never noticed Lucas, which meant I never had to explain why I was leaving with him when I’d never been willing to even have lunch with Doug, who’d really been nothing but wonderful since I’d met him.
“What are you reading?”
I’d startled Lucas, totally immersed in the tattered pages of his paperback. Watching him unguarded in the seconds between the door and the bench, I thought I could see how he’d been in high school: quiet, shy, too serious, but gorgeous behind the glasses and thick books. He seemed the kind of boy girls had secret crushes on because he was just a little too distant to encourage them. I wondered if he’d gone to homecoming or prom and who his best friend had been.
He smiled and flipped the cover closed to hold it up: A Prayer for Owen Meany.
I was glad to see a novel instead of something academic. “Great book.”
He nodded. “I think this is my third time through it.” Lucas marked his page with a dog-eared corner, then slid it into the worn messenger bag he carried to class. “You like Italian?” He stood, less than a foot from me, and I could smell his aftershave, clean and crisp like a breezy day at the beach. Intoxicating.
“Sure,” I answered, perfectly hiding how my pulse raced at his closeness.
“A friend of mine owns a place just a few blocks away,” he said as we started walking. “Mostly Northern Italian. Delicious.”
It was that part of summer where days go on forever. Nearly eight o’clock and the streetlights were hardly needed. I’d been nervous that it would be awkward with Lucas, but our conversation danced lightly over common ground. Something about the evening, the long, easy days of summer, made me feel like it would have been perfectly natural for him to slip his hand in mine as we strolled the comfortable sidewalks of Bering. He didn’t. But I kept hoping he might.
The restaurant was on a side street that I’d never been down.
“Gianna,” he said, returning the owner’s air-kiss greeting, “this is Cassandra.”
“So nice to meet you.” Gianna had a trace of an accent and a warm smile. She led us to a courtyard table in back. “Please. Let me know if you need anything. Wallace will be with you in a moment.”
There were four other tables, only two of them occupied, surrounding a small stone fountain on the patio. Candlelit sconces and flickering lights on each table made it feel secret and intimate. If it hadn’t been owned by his friend, choosing someplace like this would have left me no doubt about Lucas’s intentions.
Our waiter appeared with bread and water and Lucas ordered a carafe of wine.
“You’re not twenty-one,” I said when the waiter left.
“No, but Gianna would be disappointed if we didn’t have a glass with dinner.” He smiled. “It’s the Italian way.”
I thought about our lesson from last week, Socrates preferring death to breaking the laws of Athens, then shook my head. Too much philosophy on the brain.
“So, how do you know Gianna?” I asked.
“She’s a friend of my mother’s, actually. Years ago, she owned a bakery back home. Gianna and her husband moved here when he got a job running Food Services at the U. When I decided to come to Lennox, my mom and she reconnected.” He reached across the table for the butter, his hand nearly brushing mine. “Gianna’s a great cook, but a fantastic baker. You have to try the desserts. They’re amazing.”
The wine came and Lucas and I watched Wallace fill both our glasses midway. We ordered our meals and Lucas raised his glass, his eyes meeting mine. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” I agreed, clinking his rim softly.
He’d chosen a merlot, fruity and warm. I sipped gently, familiar enough with alcohol from Nan’s tea and the occasional holiday toast to know how quickly it can go to your head.
“So, are you enjoying our class?”
“I am,” I answered. “It’s challenging, as you said it would be, but I like it.” I sipped again, looking up at him as I added, “I thought you were good yesterday.”
He smiled. “I thought you were good yesterday too. I can’t say that was in my lesson plan, but that’s the fun thing about philosophy. You never know when you’re going to get a great back-and-forth going.”
I took a piece of the bread he offered. “How’d you wind up majoring in it? It’s kind of an unusual choice.”
“Yeah.” Lucas shrugged, flashing a small, embarrassed smile. “My mom went through a Buddhist phase when I was in high school. You know, Zen, karma, the whole thing. It got me thinking about why we’re here. I took a few classes back home and was hooked.” He paused, looking down as he added, softer, “I think we all have a purpose in life. I guess I’m just trying to figure out exactly what mine is.”
I’d never heard a guy be so honest. Maybe Jack, but only about small things. There was a vulnerability about the way Lucas said it that made me feel warm and trusted and special, like we were cocooned here in this quiet place together. I took another sip of the wine, letting his words sink in. Purpose. I didn’t really want to think about the mark, but for once, it seemed like the right time to bring it up and Lucas the right person.
I watched him carefully as I said, “You know, you never answered the question in class yesterday.”