8
A few blocks away was a small Asian-fusion restaurant with a good reputation. By then, Dylan had become quiet, doing much more listening than speaking. He spent time over the menu, and ordered green tea for them both without asking, as if anything else would be heretical.
“I’ve only been full-on vegetarian for a few years,” Brooke said, “and part of me says we’re missing out, being here on the west coast but not having seafood. Know what I mean?”
“No. I have no interest at all.”
“Really? Good for you. ‘Cause the other part of me feels totally guilty about what humans are doing to the oceans. There probably won’t be any fish left worth catching in a hundred years.”
He gave her a sharp look, but quickly turned back to the menu.
“You don’t even like lobster?” Brooke asked.
“No.”
“De
