“You know,” Kai said, “we just met two days ago.” He didn’t say it thoughtfully or slowly. He said it the way he might have said, “The sky is blue.” A fact softened by his tone, but a fact nonetheless.

“And?”

“It’s pretty amazing how much I know about you already.” A fishhook trying to lure my curiosity. A smart fish would know better than to bite. But I was tired of being a smart fish. A few moments above water was more exciting than a life under a rock.  

“And what do you know?” I asked, fiddling with some woodchips. They were still wet from earlier and old rain seeped through my fingers.

“You like strawberry pie, even though apple pie is obviously the best.”

True. Very true.

 “You’re kind of a nature-freak.”

That was pushing it a little. “I just like being outside.”

“Like I said, kind of a nature freak. Moving on. You can’t cook.”

“Should you really be saying that to someone who fed you today?” I asked drily, throwing a few woodchips at him. I missed.

“You think I’m attractive,” he said, matter-of-factly. It was incredible that he could make that sound objective.

I did think he was attractive, but many of the girls at our school probably thought the same way. And I was not one to deny the truth just for the sake of being different.  

“And, you love music,” he said. “Because you’re always tapping your foot or your pencil to nothing when you’re working. Your rhythm’s slow, like you’re playing a waltz.”

 I didn’t understand how I felt about music anymore. A note could bring happiness one moment, and usher in sadness the next.

“I don’t really know if I like music.”

Kai looked at me and shrugged.

“You might hate it. You might love it. But you’ll always be connected to it, because when silence enters the room, you hear a melody in your soul. And that keeps you warm when you're cold."

"Really?"

"At least, that’s what my mom always said.”

Music in the soul. I didn’t know if I believed that.

But from the way Kai smiled, I knew he believed it.