If You Really Love Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

good-looking face, this guy I’ve been sort of crushing on for a while now, is talking to me. There’s so much I want to know about him. “Where do you live?” I blurt out. “Can I ask that? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
    “No big deal. I live in Uptown.”
    Uptown is a gated community about twenty miles north of where I live, on the lake. “You drove a long way to go to the store.” Stupid. Stupid thing to say. Now he’ll be mad.
    If the comment pissed him off, he doesn’t show it. “I felt like taking a drive downtown,” he replies, a little too casually. “That store was a stop on the way.”
    I look at him, just to make sure he isn’t angry and trying to hide it. His face reveals nothing, but he has a great profile. His nose is a straight slope except at the tip, where it turns up just a bit. He’s wearing three stars along the outer curve of his right ear. Not solid stars. They’re like tiny strips of gold that have been folded into star shapes, like a symbol or something.
    “I like your earrings,” I say.
    “Thanks.”
    “Do the stars mean something?”
    “They’re Stars of David. A birthday present from my dad. It’s his way of making himself feel I’m protected.”
    He glances at me. From his reaction, I can tell the confusion I’m feeling is showing on my face. “I’m Jewish,” he says, but that doesn’t really clear things up for me.
    “What’s a Star of David?”
    “It’s a symbol of Judaism. The same way a cross is a symbol of Christianity.”
    “Oh.” And now I feel stupid again. Sometimes I ask the dumbest questions.
    Saul keeps driving in his no-big-deal way, which makes me feel better. “This is the middle of Shabbat,” he says casually.
    “I hate to keep asking dumb questions, but what’s Shabbat?”
    “Ellis, are you Jewish?”
    “No.”
    “Then the questions you’re asking are not dumb. Shabbat is our day of rest. We avoid doing a lot of things, spend time at home with family and friends, eat a lot, and go to synagogue.”
    “But you’re out here, driving around.”
    He shrugs. “I’m not observant anymore. Just my parents are.”
    “Oh.” That brings another question to mind. “What’re your parents like?”
    “My old man’s an electrical engineer. He designs and builds electrical systems for big projects like stadiums and skyscrapers. He’s worked on buildings just about everywhere in the country—New York, San Francisco, Honolulu—and he’s won all kinds of awards for his designs. There were so many projects coming his way he couldn’t handle them all himself, so he started his own firm. He still turns down a lot of requests because he always wants time for my mom and synagogue and stuff. And my mom’s a traditional Jewish housewife, taking care of home. She says that after I’m out of the house, she’s gonna go back to school and finally have a life of her own, but I’ll believe that when I see it.”
    He lapses into silence. It seems that I should say something else, but I’m not sure what exactly that something should be. “I like your car.”
    “Thanks.” Saul gives me another glance, a wry twist to his face. “Seems like an old lady’s car to me. My parents got it for my grandmother but she hardly ever drove it, and now she doesn’t need it at all. I wanted a Mustang when I got my license, but my folks said it didn’t make sense to buy another car when this one was already in the garage.”
    We’re downtown now, rolling past the high-rise condos that line Washington Avenue. The people on the sidewalks are bundled up in heavy coats and hats, scarves wrapped around their faces, hunched over against the cold wind and the cloudy gray sky. Looking at them makes me shiver, even though the interior of the car is cozy warm. I pull my jacket tight around me.
    Saul turns right onto First Street. About halfway down the block, he turns into the parking lot of a squat, rectangular three-story building. The whole front