Meg Cabot: Twilight

"Between doing that again and an eternity in hellfire," he said, "I'd take the hellfire."

"Well, you'll never have to do it again," I said with a laugh. "Now that they know you. And besides, they liked you."

"Your mother didn't," Jesse assured me.

"Yes, she did," I said. "She just thinks you're a little old for me."

"If only she knew," Jesse said, voicing, as he so often did, exactly what I'd been thinking.

"Your stepfather, on the other hand, invited me to dinner tomorrow night."

"Sunday dinner?" I was impressed. "He really must like you."

We'd reached Jesse's car - well, really, it was Father Dom's car. But Father D was letting Jesse borrow it for the occasion. Not, of course, that Jesse had a license. Father Dom was still working on getting him a birth certificate . . . and a Social Security card . . . and school transcripts, so he could start applying for colleges and for student loans.

But, the good father had assured us, it wouldn't be hard. "The church," he'd said, "had ways."

"Madam," Jesse said, opening the front passenger door for me.

"Why, thank you," I said, and slid in.

Jesse went around to the driver's seat, slid into it, then reached for the ignition.

"You're sure you know how to drive one of these things?" I asked him, just to make sure.

"Susannah." Jesse started the engine. "I did not sit idly by eating bonbons for the 150 years I was a ghost. I did make a few observations now and then. And I most definitely know - " He started backing the car out of the driveway. " - how to drive."

"Okay. Just checking. Because I could always take over if you need - "

"You will sit where you are," Jesse said, turning onto Pine Crest Road without nearly hitting the mailbox, which was something even I, a driver with an actual license, rarely managed to do, "and look pretty, as a young lady ought to."

"Wait, which century is this?"

"Humor me," he said, looking pained. "I'm doing it for you, in this monkey suit."

"Penguin."

"Susannah."

"I'm just saying. That's what it's called. You need to get hip with the lingo if you're going to fit in."

"Whatever," Jesse said in such a perfect imitation of - well, me - that I was forced to mock punch him in the arm.

I sat and looked pretty for the entire rest of the two-mile ride to the Mission. When we got there, I even waited and let him come around to open the car door for me. Jesse thanked me, mentioning that his male ego had taken enough blows over the past week.

I knew what he meant and didn't blame him a bit for feeling that way. He had basically walked out of the Carmel Hospital a man newly born, without a past, at least, not one that was going to help him in this century, without family - except for me, of course, and Father Dominic - and without a cent to his name. If it hadn't been for Father Dominic, in fact, who knew what might have happened? Oh, I suppose my mom and Andy might have let him move in with us. . . .

But they wouldn't have been wild about it. But Father Dominic had found Jesse a small - but clean and nice - apartment, and he was looking into a job. College would come later, after Jesse had studied for and taken the SATs. But when we ran into Father D at the entrance to the dance - it was being held in the Mission courtyard, which had been transformed for the occasion into a moonlit oasis, complete with white fairy lights twisted around every palm tree and multicolored gels over the lights in the fountain - he pretended he and Jesse were meeting for the first time, for the sake of Sister Ernestine, who was standing nearby.

"Very nice to meet you," Father Dominic said, shaking Jesse's hand.

Jesse was unable to keep a smile from his face. "Same with you, Father," he said.

After Sister Ernestine left with a sniff at my dress - I suppose she'd been waiting for me to show up in something slit to my navel, not the very demure white Jessica McClintock number I was wearing instead - Father Dominic dropped the pretense and said to Jesse, "I have good news. The job's come through."

Jesse looked excited. "Really? What is it? When do I start?"

"Monday morning, and though the pay won't be much, it's something I think you'll be unusually well-suited for - giving talks about old Carmel at the Historical Society Museum. Do you think you can stand to do that for a while? Until we can get you into medical school, anyway?"

Jesse's grin seemed - to me, anyway - even more brilliant than the moon.

"I think so," he said.

"Excellent." Father Dominic pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled at us. "Have a nice evening, children."

Jesse and I assured him we would, then went into the dance.

It wasn't any mid-nineteenth-century ball or anything, but it was still very nice. There were punch and cookies and chaperones. And okay, there was also a DJ and a smoke machine, but whatever. Jesse seemed to be enjoying himself, especially when CeeCee and Adam came up to us, and he was able to shake both their hands and say, "I've heard a lot about you both."

Adam, who'd had no idea about Jesse's existence, scowled.

"Can't say I can return the compliment," he said.

But CeeCee, who'd turned pale as her dress when she heard me say Jesse's name, was more friendly. Or at least enthusiastic.

"B-but," she stammered, looking from Jesse's face to mine and then back again, "are - aren't you - "

"Not anymore," I said to her and, though she still looked confused, she smiled.

"Well," she said. Then, more loudly, "Well! That's wonderful!"

That's when I noticed her aunt standing nearby, chatting with Mr. Walden.

"What's she doing here?" I asked CeeCee.

Adam laughed and, before CeeCee could say a word, explained, "Mr. Walden's chaperoning. And guess who he brought as his date?"

"They aren't dating," CeeCee insisted. "They're just friends."

"Right," Adam said with a grin.

"Suze." CeeCee pulled her lace shawl more tightly over her bare shoulders. "Come to the ladies' room with me?"

"I'll be right back," I said to Jesse.

"How - " CeeCee began as soon as she'd dragged me into the ladies.

But she couldn't get out anything more than that, because a bunch of giggling freshmen came in and crowded around the mirror over the sink, checking their hair.

"I'll tell you someday," I said to her with a laugh.

CeeCee screwed up her face. "Promise?"

"If you'll tell me how it's going with Adam."

CeeCee sighed and checked out her own reflection. "Dreamy," she said. Then looked at me. "It is for you, too. I can tell by your face."

"Dreamy's a good word for it," I said.

"I thought so. Well, come on. No telling what Adam might be saying to him."

We turned to leave just as the bathroom door swung open, and Kelly Prescott came in. She shot me a supremely dirty look, which I didn't understand until she was followed by Sister Ernestine, who had a measuring tape in her hand. That's when I saw the slit in Kelly's designer gown. It was much higher than the regulation knee-length.

CeeCee and I slipped past the nun and fell giggling into the breezeway.

At least, I was giggling until I saw Paul.

He was standing in the shadows, looking coolly handsome in his tuxedo. He was obviously waiting for Kelly to emerge with her slit adjusted. He straightened when he saw me.

"Uh, tell Jesse I'll be right there, will you, Cee?" I said.

CeeCee nodded and went back to the dance. I walked up to where Paul was leaning against one of the stone pillars, and said, "Hi."

Paul took his hands from his pockets. "Hi," he said.

Then neither of us seemed to be able to think of anything to say.

Finally, Paul said, "I ran into Jesse out there."

I raised my eyebrows. "I ran into Kelly in there."

"Yeah," Paul said, flicking a glance at the door to the ladies' room. Then he said, "I . . . my grandfather asked about you."