Maybe Dave is pretty cool after all.

At noon, I follow the stampede to the cafeteria. I avoid the main line and go straight to the counter with the choose-your-own fruit and bread, even though the pasta smells amazing. I’m such a wuss. I’d rather starve than try to order in French. “Oui, oui!” I’d say, pointing at random words on the chalkboard. Then Chef Handlebar would present me with something revolting, and I’d have to buy it out of shame. Of course I meant to order the roasted pigeon! Mmm! Just like Nanna’s.

Meredith and her friends are lounging at the same table as this morning. I take a deep breath and join them. To my relief, no one looks surprised. Meredith asks St. Clair if he’s seen his girlfriend yet. He relaxes into his chair. “No, but we’re meeting tonight.”

“Did you see her this summer? Have her classes started? What’s she taking this semester?” She keeps asking questions about Ellie to which he gives short replies. Josh and Rashmi are making out—I can actually see tongue—so I turn to my bread and grapes. How biblical of me.

The grapes are smaller than I’m used to, and the skin is slightly textured. Is that dirt? I dip my napkin in water and dab at the tiny purple globes. It helps, but they’re still sort of rough. Hmm. St. Clair and Meredith stop talking. I glance up to find them staring at me in matching bemusement. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says. “Continue your grape bath.”

“They were dirty.”

“Have you tried one?” she asks.

“No, they’ve still got these little mud flecks.” I hold one up to show them. St. Clair plucks it from my fingers and pops it into his mouth. I’m hypnotized by his lips, his throat, as he swallows.

I hesitate.Would I rather have clean food or his good opinion?

He picks up another and smiles. “Open up.”

I open up.