I realized I'd never removed the CD Phil had given me. 我意识到自己还没把菲尔给我的那张CD拿出来。

When I said the name of the band, he smiled crookedly, a peculiar expression in his eyes. 当我说出那个乐队的名字的时候，他嘴角弯弯地笑了，眼里有着一种奇特的神情。

He flipped open a compartment under his car's CD player, pulled out one of thirty or so CDs that were jammed into the small space, and handed it to me. 他弹开了他的车载随身听下面的一个小隔间，在塞满了那个小空间的三十张或者更多的CD里抽了一张出来，递给我。

"Debussy to this?" He raised an eyebrow. “这张德彪西怎么样？”他挑起一侧眉头。

It was the same CD. I examined the familiar cover art, keeping my eyes down. 是上次那张CD。我垂下眼帘，仔细看着那个熟悉的封面图案。

It continued like that for the rest of the day. 这一天就这样过去了。

While he walked me to English, when he met me after Spanish, 当他陪我走向英语课教室的时候，当他在西班牙语课后和我碰头的时候，

all through the lunch hour, he questioned me relentlessly about every insignificant detail of my existence. 整个午餐时间，他都在无情地审问着我，了解我生活里的每一个无关紧要的细节。

Movies I'd liked and hated, the few places I'd been and the many places I wanted to go, and books—endlessly books. 我喜欢的和讨厌的电影，我去过的屈指可数的几个地方，我想去的许多地方，还有书——无尽的关于书的问题。

I couldn't remember the last time I'd talked so much. 我想不起来自己上次说这么的话是什么时候的事了。

More often than not, I felt self-conscious, certain I must be boring him. 我有自知之明，我敢肯定我一定让他感到厌烦了。

But the absolute absorption of his face, and his never-ending stream of questions, compelled me to continue. 但他脸上全神贯注的神情，还有他连珠炮似的永不止息的提问，迫使我继续下去。

Mostly his questions were easy, only a very few triggering my easy blushes. 他大多数的问题都很容易回答，只有少数几个会让我不禁脸红起来。

But when I did flush, it brought on a whole new round of questions. 但当我真的脸红起来的时候，又会导致新的一轮的提问。