Don't Ask Read Online Free PDF

butterflies flapping around don’t leave much room for food – and knowing Jack was interested in going out with me after all brought my
appetite back in an instant. Once I’d virtually licked my plate clean, I excused myself from the table, went up to my room and texted him back. Two minutes later, my phone began to ring. I
took a deep breath before answering, so my voice wasn’t shaky or too high.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘Hi Lily, it’s Jack.’ He didn’t sound at all nervous, but some people are good at hiding it. ‘I wondered if you were free on Friday. Maybe we could go out for a
pizza or something.’
    ‘Sure,’ I said, trying to conceal my delight with nonchalance. ‘I’d like that.’ I wasn’t just trying to appear cool, I figured that if I didn’t speak
much, I’d be less likely to say something stupid. I didn’t know Jack well enough to have a proper conversation and I didn’t want to labour over smalltalk.
    ‘So I’ll pick you up at seven then.’
    ‘Sure, that’s fine.’ Just in case I sounded a bit too blasé, I added: ‘I’m looking forward to it.’
    ‘Me too,’ he said.
    After that, I gave him my address and the directions to my house, which doesn’t bear repeating. I’m only pointing it out because it bugs me how in TV shows and movies people make
dates but never finalise the arrangements. They say things like ‘I’ll meet you for a drink at Ed’s’, without specifying the time, or ‘Pick me up’, without saying
where they live. In films, no one ever has to spell their address or explain that they live in a flat with a dodgy doorbell so it’s best to knock hard instead, and ooh, mind the dog. People
in movies just seem to arrive in places together magnetically. Maybe they’re all telepathic. In real life, people need maps and timetables.
    We didn’t speak again, and by the time Friday came I could barely remember anything about Jack except that I’d liked him when we’d met at the party. I couldn’t even
picture his face. ‘I hope I recognise him,’ I told Katie. ‘What if he turns up at the door and I don’t fancy him any more?’
    She laughed at me. ‘Yeah, and what if he doesn’t fancy you? Come to think of it, he might not turn up at all!’
    ‘You’re so mean,’ I said. ‘Which is partly why I love you.’
    I needn’t have worried. A few minutes before seven, I heard a car parking outside. I looked out of my bedroom window and saw Jack’s instantly recognisable and attractive silhouette
loitering at my garden gate, clearly biding his time so he didn’t arrive too early. I felt a pang of nervousness and put on another layer of lip-gloss. When he rang the doorbell, I hung about
upstairs and allowed my parents to let him in, so they could check him over and conclude for themselves that he was respectable enough to date their daughter. We’d already been through the
‘Are you sure he’s not too old for you?’ discussion, which was prompted by Katie’s comment about his car. It wasn’t the age difference that bothered them, but the fear
I’d end up wrapped around a lamp post.
    ‘We’re only going out for pizza,’ I’d assured them. ‘I wouldn’t go joy-riding until at least the third date.’
    I listened from the landing for a couple of minutes to make sure things were going well, then made my appearance at the top of the stairs before Mum and Dad could ask him too many probing
questions. Jack gave me a quick glance as I came down. He breathed an almost audible sigh of relief, but I couldn’t tell if was because he thought I scrubbed up OK, or just because he’d
be able to stop making polite conversation with my parents.
    ‘Ah, here she is,’ said Dad, in the tone of voice you’d use to present someone to the Queen. His eyes went straight to my skirt and I could tell he was using a mental tape
measure to work out if it was long enough.
    Mum smiled at me. ‘You two have a good night,’ she said, nodding approvingly at Jack. ‘And