“Do you know anythingabout silent films?”“Sure,” I said. “The first ones were developed in the latenineteenth century and sometimes had live musicalaccompaniment, though it wasn’t until the 1920s that soundbecome truly incorporated into films, eventually makingsilent ones obsolete in cinema.”Bryan gaped, as though that was more than he’d beenexpecting. “Oh. Okay. Well, um, there’s a silent film festivaldowntown next week. Do you think you’d want to go?”I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. I respect it as anart form but really don’t get much out of watching them.”“Huh. Okay.” He smoothed his hair back again, and Icould almost see him groping for thoughts. Why on earthwas he asking me about silent films? “What about Starship30? It opens Friday. Do you want to see that?”“I don’t really like sci-fi either,” I said. It was true, I found itcompletely implausible.Bryan looked ready to rip that shaggy hair out. “Is thereany movie out there you want to see?”I ran through a mental list of current entertainment. “No.Not really.” The bell rang, and with a shake of his head,Bryan slunk back to his desk. “That was weird,” I muttered.“He has bad taste in movies.” Glancing beside me, I wasstartled to see Julia with her head down on her desk whileshe shook with silent laughter. “What?”“That,” she gasped. “That was hilarious.”“What?” I said again. “Why?”“Sydney, he was asking you out!”I replayed the conversation. “No, he wasn’t. He wasasking me about cinema.”She was laughing so hard that she had to wipe away atear. “So he could find out what you wanted to see and takeyou out!”“Well, why didn’t he just say that?”“You are so adorably oblivious,” she said. “I hope I’maround the day you actually notice someone is interested inyou.” I continued to be mystified, and she spent the rest ofclass bursting out with spontaneous giggles.”