Page 57 of One Night

Along with her teacher, I've been trying to help Emily learn to read but I'm not getting very far because she has a hard time focusing.

"You have a boyfriend?" she asks when we're halfway through the book. She's smiling, her legs swinging back and forth as she sits in the tiny chair.

I smile back at her. "You ask me this every time and the answer is always the same."

She shrugs. "I know but someday you'll say yes."

"Why do you care if I have a boyfriend?"

She tilts her head. "Because you're pretty and you should have a boyfriend."

I laugh a little and hold the book up. "Let's keep reading. Why don't you help me? What's this word?" I point to it.

Turning to me, she says, "If you had a boyfriend, what would he look like?"

"I wouldn't know until I met him."

"But what do you think he'd look like?"

I've lost her. She's distracted, and now I'll never get her interested in the book again, at least not today. Once she starts talking, she forgets all about the book. But I always stay and talk to her because I don't think she gets much attention at home.

"He'd probably have dark hair, brown eyes, and be taller than me." As I say it, I realize I just described Dylan. Then again, that description fits a lot of guys, but I was thinking about Dylan when I said it.

"Would he be a fireman?" she asks, her eyes wide.

The story we read last week was about a fireman and his dog so I'm guessing that's where she got the fireman reference.

"He probably wouldn't be a fireman. I don't know any firemen." Although imagining Dylan as a fireman is turning me on. Shit. I need to stop thinking about sexy fireman Dylan and focus on Emily. "Why don't we talk about something else?" I set the book down. "What'd you do last weekend?"

"Watched TV," she says, bouncing on her chair as her feet continue to swing back and forth. "If you had a boyfriend, would he be nice?"

"Well, I would hope so. Otherwise he wouldn't be my boyfriend."

"My mom's had boyfriends that aren't nice."

"Then she shouldn't date them. You should only date boys that are nice to you. Remember that, okay?"

She nods and looks at me as though I hold all the answers to anything she'd ever want to know. She reminds me of Brittany when she was younger. She'd always ask me tons of questions and believe everything I said.

"If a boy is nice," Emily says, "would he give you candy?"

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean he's nice. Anyone could give you candy, even people who aren't your friends. Like on Valentine's Day, all the kids in your class give you candy even though not all of them are your friends."

"Then how do you know if a boy is nice?"

"If he treats you well. Like if he talks to you when you need someone to talk to. Or if he helps you when you need help. Or if he tells you a joke when you're feeling sad."

"Then he's like a friend?" she asks.

"Yep. Your boyfriend should also be your friend. That's how they got the word 'boyfriend'. He's a boy who's also your friend."

Her eyes brighten. "I never thought about that."

The teacher appears at the door. "Emily, it's time to go. Say goodbye to Amber."

She hops off her chair and hugs me. "Bye, Amber."

"Bye. Have a good day."

---