give your answer.”
“Okay, I think I can handle that,” William said with confidence.
“But the questions can’t be too complicated. And no questions that require long
answers. Simple questions. Simple answers.” She paused. “And no follow-up
questions. If you ask one, you lose. You also lose if you can’t answer a question
or think of one to ask. Got it?”
“I think I do,” William said, fiddling with his silverware but keeping his eyes on
her.
“I’ll start. What’s your favorite color? Mine is green.” She pointed at her shirt
with both hands.
“Blue. How old are you? I’m seventeen.” William set the silverware down and focused
on her.
“Seventeen. What’s your favorite class in school? Mine is art.” Casey tapped the
table rhythmically, each beat like a ticking clock.
“I don’t have one. What grade are you in? I’m a senior.” William said it with a
hint of pride.
Casey’s tapping stopped when her turn came again.
“Also, a senior. Favorite song? ‘Fade Into You’.”
“’Gold Soundz’.” William hesitated briefly. “Who was your first best friend? David
Bauer, for me.”
“An imaginary friend named Mary. What’s your comfort movie? Not your favorite, just
the one you watch when you’re feeling down or sick. Mine is The NeverEnding Story.”
“Star Wars.” Casey resumed tapping the table. William watched her fingers, then
asked, “What was your favorite present? Mine was the Ninja Turtle Sewer playset.”
“A Care Bear doll,” Casey replied.