To prove chivalry wasn’t dead, I asked, “Can I walk you home?”

Jackie smiled. “Just going to the corner. Mom’s going to pick me up.”

“Oh. Well, can I walk you to the corner then?”

She chuckled. “You’ve convinced me.” As if she read my mind about the chivalry, she crooked her arm, and I laughed as I put mine through it. As our arms touched, I felt a tingle. It was like a static shock, but it lasted longer.

My surprise must have shown on my face, because she said, “Oh. Sorry about that. I kind of build up a charge sometimes. Just…forget it ever happened, if you don’t mind.”

That was odd. Who asks someone to “forget it” after shocking them? “Uh, okay,” I said.

A minute later, a battered green Jetta pulled up, and a woman who looked like Jackie only older leaned across the passenger seat to push the door open. “See you…later, I guess?” I said.

“Was nice to meet you, Michael. Oh, here!” She flipped a business card at me as the door closed. I caught it, but didn’t look at it until after they’d driven away.