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He
seemed
fascinated
by
my
little
rant
.
He
considered
for
a
moment
,
staring
into
my
eyes
.
"
You
’
re
right
,
"
he
decided
,
serious
again
.
"
Brown
is
warm
.
"
He
reached
over
,
swiftly
,
but
somehow
still
hesitantly
,
to
sweep
my
hair
back
behind
my
shoulder
.
We
were
at
the
school
by
now
.
He
turned
back
to
me
as
he
pulled
into
a
parking
space
.
"
What
music
is
in
your
CD
player
right
now
?
"
he
asked
,
his
face
as
somber
as
if
he
’
d
asked
for
a
murder
confession
.
I
realized
I
’
d
never
removed
the
CD
Phil
had
given
me
.
When
I
said
the
name
of
the
band
,
he
smiled
crookedly
,
a
peculiar
expression
in
his
eyes
.
He
flipped
open
a
compartment
under
his
car
’
s
CD
player
,
pulled
out
one
of
thirty
or
so
CDs
that
were
jammed
into
the
small
space
,
and
handed
it
to
me
,
"
Debussy
to
this
?
"
He
raised
an
eyebrow
.
It
was
the
same
CD
.
I
examined
the
familiar
cover
art
,
keeping
my
eyes
down
.
It
continued
like
that
for
the
rest
of
the
day
.
While
he
walked
me
to
English
,
when
he
met
me
after
Spanish
,
all
through
the
lunch
hour
,
he
questioned
me
relentlessly
about
every
insignificant
detail
of
my
existence
.
Movies
I
’
d
liked
and
hated
,
the
few
places
I
’
d
been
and
the
many
places
I
wanted
to
go
,
and
books
-
endlessly
books
.
