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embarrassed to be thinking of Kevin in that way. Like Jekyll and Hyde, only Dr. Jekyll dresses better . One time when she looked toward his table she saw him watching her. Their eyes met and she glanced away. After that she stopped looking in his direction and kept her attention solely on her five other tables. She’d have to get back to him eventually, though, because she had to give him his bill. But she tallied his order before she got to his table so that she would have no reason to linger.
    “How was everything?” she said, placing his bill on the table.
    “Perfect, thank you,” he said, looking directly at her and ignoring the bill.
    She wanted to rush away from his table but she had to remember to treat him like an ordinary customer, though she was certain there was nothing ordinary about this customer. Before she could think of an appropriate exit line he spoke again.
    “You like nice in your uniform.”
    “Thank you.” You do too.
    “You like working here?”
    “It’s convenient. The university is just across the street. Makes it easy to work a shift between classes. With tips it probably pays more than an office job. I could do worse, I suppose.” Though some days waiting on lecherous old men who think they’re God’s gift to women is more than I can bear. “The lunch counter…“ She lowered her voice and motioned with her eyes toward the front of the restaurant where a group of middle-aged men munched silently over their plates. “We’re not allowed to be rude to them.”
    Kevin raised an eyebrow as if to say he understood, and then he wordlessly folded his newspaper and set it on the seat. Somehow Gina already knew what was coming. The Big Question. She should have avoided the small talk like she planned.
    “Are you busy tonight?” he said.
    “My feet hurt an awful lot after a shift.” She stalled. She wasn’t scheduled to work the dinner shift and she didn’t have a date. Homework always had to be done but that was true of other irritants such as hand-washing pantyhose and mopping up dust bunnies under the refrigerator. She wouldn’t insult him with such lame excuses. He was too sweet. But she wouldn’t lie either. She decided to walk down the middle of the road: truthful but vague. Her feet really did hurt after a shift—a dinner shift, that is—because it was twice as long as a lunch shift.
    “We’ll go someplace where you can sit down.”
    “I’m sure I’ll be working all evening, Kevin. Every Friday night one of the girls gets a hot date and calls in sick at the last minute. Then one of the owners calls me in a panic, begging me to come in. When that happens I take the shift for the extra money.” Now that probably would be the truth by six p.m., but Gina felt guilty, as if she had told a lie.
    “You could be the girl with the hot date.” He smiled that innocent smile again.
    He sure made things difficult. He was too sweet. His polyester pants were too awful . Hot date? Lord, forgive me for laughing. She had caused all this, and now she didn’t know what to say. But then she remembered with small relief her commitment to stick to business. After all, Big Bick’s paid her to wait on customers, not date them.
    “Can I get you anything else?”
    “If you work tonight, what time will you get off?”
    “Would you like a refill on your soda?”
    He declined. Gina wished him a nice afternoon, he returned the sentiment, and then she turned away to serve her other customers. She could feel his eyes following her as she moved from the dining room to the kitchen and back again, but she was determined to make him think that she had dismissed him from her mind, so she avoided looking in his direction. After a few minutes, while she lingered behind the ice cream case where she could observe him without his knowledge, she saw him get up, pay his bill, and leave. She waited until he had exited the restaurant to clear his table. He had left her a ten-dollar tip for an eight-dollar