“I’m a ninja.” Oliver pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose in a nerdy gesture that makes us all laugh. “And you know how much I love your limited Australian cultural knowledge.”

“I try.”

Behind him, Not-Joe is still sitting in the booth, high as a kite and dancing in his seat as he stares at a group of coeds out on the floor.

“Oliver, you and Not-Joe should go boogie down with those girls over there.”

“Why not Finn?” Oliver asks with a knowing grin. “He’s also single.”

I shake my head. “He is, but look, he’s all dressed up. It’d be like A Night at the Roxbury and everyone would be embarrassed for him.” Not only will Finn refuse to dance, but if he’s going to be out there, the cavewoman inside tells me he’s going to be there for me and no one else. At least until he leaves.

Suddenly, I feel panic rise in my throat. Is Finn leaving tomorrow? He’s had his meeting with the L.A. crowd; does that mean he’ll go home?

Laughing, Oliver looks over at the dance floor, but not before taking a peek at Lola’s reaction. “Those Sheilas are tiny.”

“ ‘Tiny’ like young?” I ask, leaning to get a better look. The girls are definitely in their twenties. “Or short?”

“Very short.”

“But look at you,” Lola says, frowning. “You’re over six three. Statistically speaking that means you’re going to end up with someone under five three.”

“That hurts me in my logic,” Oliver says, smiling down at her.

“If you’re not going to dance, then get me a beer,” I tell him.

“I would but I’m paralyzed from my toes down.”

I shove him playfully. “Take Lola, too. She needs another drink.”

Lola protests that she doesn’t, but follows him anyway, and I watch them as they go. She’s tall, but he still looms over her, and seems to tilt in her direction as he walks, as if they’re magnets. I wonder if Oliver realizes what it means that Lola has seamlessly made him one of Her People. It’s a pretty exclusive club, including me, Mia, Lola’s dad, my parents, and now Oliver.

“He’ll never try it,” Finn says beside me, and when I look at him I realize he means Oliver will never try to make something happen with Lola. “He’s convinced she isn’t interested.”

“I’m not sure she is,” I agree, “but it’s mostly because Lola is clueless about guys, and all she thinks about is work.”

He hums in response.

Turning to him fully, I say, “Okay, they’re all the way over at the bar for a few minutes, Not-Joe is stoned out of his gourd and probably can’t even hear the music in here. Can you relax? Tell me: How did it go?”