I pulled down the blinds against the very bright sun that beamed through the shop windows. Yanni was playing on our speakers in the bookstore, a nice up-beat tune. I was thinking of getting some John Denver music to remind me of last night, and Brett. And then I wondered if he didn"t have a CD of his own music, with his own voice—which would be so cool. I"d have to remember to ask.
Last night, I arrived at my aunt"s house about fifteen minutes after 11:00. She wasn"t waiting up for me—not that I could see. But I had a feeling she knew when I"d gotten home. The only conversation this morning was how my evening was. She never asked what time I got in, so I didn"t mention it. I told her about Brett, how I knew him from my old school, and that he wanted to start seeing me. She was happy for m
