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rain,” he said. As if in answer, a few drops fell, and then a few more, until it was drizzling steadily and Kate picked up her pace. What could she say to this guy? And why was he walking with her?
    â€œSee you,” she said, finally, stopping in front of her building. She agonized at her awkwardness, but Hal was looking up at the etched stonework, the carved words London House for Overseas Graduates standing out clearly in the dusky afternoon light.
    â€œFunny name for flats,” he said.
    â€œIt’s university apartments,” she said, and then, using the British term, “Flats. It’s a residence for people who already have a university degree from somewhere else.”
    â€œYou don’t say,” he said. “So what degree do you have?”
    â€œOh! It’s not me,” she said. “It’s my sister. Willow. She finished her B.A. from New York State, and then she worked as an understudy in the Blue Man Theater Company, and now she’s studying here at RADA.”
    â€œThe Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts,” said Hal. “Blimey. And the Blue Man troop? They’re famous world over! Did she shave her head and paint it blue and everything?”
    â€œYes,” said Kate, trying to relax. “It looked really funny, all bumpy where her hair used to be, and the blue paint was pretty radical. She’s still got short hair, but nothing like it used to be.”
    â€œMust have been quite a sight,” he said. “Like a blue Sno Cone.”
    â€œWell, not exactly,” said Kate, her awkwardness returning. Whatever Willow did to her looks, she always managed to be chic and artsy. Kate took a furtive glance at herself, at the way her coat puffed out over her wool skirt making her look about two hundred pounds.
    â€œShe’s doing Henry VIII ,” she blurted, grabbing for a thread of conversation.
    â€œShe’s playing Henry?” asked Hal.
    â€œNo, of course not!” said Kate before she realized that Hal was teasing, and then she felt silly for missing the joke.
    â€œI’ve often thought of trying my hand at acting,” he continued.
    Kate stared at him, unable to think of what to say next.
    â€œAll the men in my family have been good-lookers,” he said, winking at her. “I suppose I’d be a natural talent.”
    â€œOh, it takes—” Kate started and stopped. She was going to say it takes more than looks, but that wouldn’t sound very polite. “Willow likes acting,” she amended, feebly. “A lot.”
    There was an uncomfortable silence. “In fact,” Kate went on, desperately, “she … she really loves acting.” Why couldn’t she think of something amazing to say, something that would make him fall madly and hopelessly in love with her forever? Instead, her mind was as soggy as the gray sky overhead.
    â€œToday’s Friday, isn’t it?” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven if you can be ready on the dot,” he continued, his grin carving a charming dimple into one cheek.
    It wasn’t a question, but Kate, blushing wildly, started to answer.
    â€œWell, I can’t tonight—”
    â€œOf course you can ,” said Hal, and looked at her with his twinkling blue eyes. “The question is whether you will . I think you should—unless you have something better to do?” His gaze seemed to see right into her brain, and the dull evening that stretched before her. “But maybe you’re busy with one of your stuffy books. The Properties of Physics , maybe?”
    Kate opened her mouth but no words came out. How had Hal remembered her library book? It must have made quite an impression.
    â€œDo you … I mean, have you read …” Kate began.
    â€œI have a good memory for things I like,” Hal interrupted, as if reading her mind.
    â€œDo you like physics?” she asked, stupidly, hearing him snort with