Wasn’t the line too long?  There would only be single seats available when they, on their first date, stepped into the movie theater.  He’d be looking at the love story on the screen and then at her wherever she’d be sitting, and enjoy neither.  It would be ninety minutes of torture — tame perhaps by comparison to other kinds, but not for one who had just come to believe that good results come from good beginnings.  What if in the theater he kept sneaking looks at her and she didn’t look back?  Wouldn’t ugly feelings settle in and color all others that followed?  Yet, if instead of a movie he offered dinner, he had money enough for only one person.  That would feel humiliating, worse than torture.  Why don’t we go for a cup of coffee?, she suddenly spoke out.  When he turned to her, she was already looking at him.  He wondered, How had she…?, but said instead, That’s a grown-up drink.  Let’s be grown-ups, she said back.  They spent much of the evening looking for a place that would serve minors a cup of coffee. He’d think a cafe, she a restaurant, or he’d think a hotel and she a market, and soon enough it got silly to where he’d think a dress shop and she a movie theater.  That brought on the second look they shared.  Because the love story was by then halfway through its showing, they got into the movie theater for half price and had money enough to enjoy a cup of coffee in the lobby, sitting next to each other under posters of grown-up lovers.  Ahh, he said at one point.  Hmmm, she said back.  Next week?, he asked.  Next week, she answered.  These two words mattered so much to him so suddenly.  They erased all anxiety about what was to come after, and allowed him to believe that theirs was a good beginning.