I scanned the streets, not seeing any familiar faces. I saw a newsie standing on a nearby corner. I recognized him but I had no idea what his name was. I walked over to him and asked if he knew where Jack was. He told me Jack was selling near Tibbys. I started walking to Tibbys. I was rather surprised I actually knew the way, I must be hanging around here a lot. I saw Jack selling a block down from Tibbys. He was calling out headlines and moving his papers fast. Well, they did say he was the best.

�Jack,� I said, coming to his side.

�Oh, hey, Angie.� he said happily.

�Umm, I need to talk to you about something.� Oh, I didn�t want to do this at all. I had this feeling that meeting parents was something Jack didn�t especially like to do.

�Yeah? Shoot.� Jack said.

I studied him for a second. He had no idea what was coming. �Are you busy Friday night?� I asked, skirting the issue.

�Wha�d you have planned?� Jack grinned. I made a face. Nope, he had no idea what was coming. �Umm, I think you might want to sit down.� I suggested. He shrugged. �I�m fine.� he said, not catching on. Ok, I better just get to the point.

�Ok, see, we have tickets to the theater and my father wants you to come because, because, well...he, uh, wants to meet you.� I studied Jack�s face, trying to assess his reaction. Jack sort of nodded. �Yeah. Ok. What time should I come?�

I blinked a few times. I couldn�t believe he was taking this so well. �Aren�t you a bit...upset?� I ventured. Jack shrugged. �Figured it�d �appen soona� a� lata�.� Really? He had? I am really lucky...

�Ok, I want to be at my house by 3 o�clock in the afternoon. I know it�s really early but there are some things we need to take care of before my father gets home. He doesn�t know anything about you and, well, he�s kind of overprotective, and...� I trailed off. How was I supposed to tell him that my father would think he was street trash if I didn�t clean him up? Well, as it turned out, I didn�t.

�You wanna� get me cleaned up, right?�

�Yeah,� I said in a small voice, �are you mad?�

Jack shook his head. �Nah. I understand. He�d get mad if I went to dat theater like dis,� Jack indicated to his shirt, �right?�

�Oh, just a little.� I joked. �Also,� I added, �we�ll be eating dinner before and, well, my dad isn�t going to like it if you have bad table manners.� Oops. I think that was a little too blunt. Luckily, Jack is guy and didn�t really care. He nodded. �You gonna teach me before dinna�?�