"You didn’t finish," I said. "Was it as disgusting as it looked?"
"Nah. Just had enough."
We walked back in the general direction of Main Street for maybe half a minute, and then he said, "Thanks for meeting me. I didn’t feel like going right back to my apartment."
"Where is it?"
"Half-way to Dover."
"You must have a car, then. The campus buses don’t run very late."
A few steps later he said, "My dad owns a dealership. Specialty cars."
"Nearby?"
He laughed. "No. I guess that was a bit of a disconnect, wasn’t it? I’m from St. Louis."
"Missouri?"
"The same."
"But—you didn’t drive here from Missouri, did you?"
He laughed. "No. I bought a car here. I’m not making much sense, am I? It’s just that the mention of a car sent me back to last summer when I got to drive a Lamborghini Spyd
