He pauses and looks over at me. “It’s just . . . I don’t know how to act around you anymore,” he says. “I’ve never known anyone famous. And I don’t know what to believe. I mean, seeing Jesse Bishop kiss you last night was really crappy for me. Obviously the whole world knows about you two being ‘pop’s power couple’ or whatever. How do I compete with that?”

“You don’t have to,” I say.

“Sure, you say that now,” Nick says. “But what happens when you two make up? Or when Prince Harry or some movie star or some guy in a boy band asks you out? Amanda, I’m just some college guy who doesn’t even have enough money to move out from under his parents’ roof. How do I compete with those other guys?”

I reach for his hand. “Nick, most of the guys in my world are totally fake and just looking for a headline. I don’t want that.”

Nick doesn’t let go of my hand. I concentrate on the feeling of his fingers intertwined with mine. I feel like things are spinning out of control everywhere around me, but somehow, this feels safe. His hand is like an anchor. I hold on tighter, and after a moment, he squeezes back.

“You have your pick of probably any guy in the whole world,” Nick whispers, even though no one else is around to hear him.

“Yeah,” I say. I pause and wait until he looks at me. “Maybe I do. And I pick you.”

Eventually, I tell Nick everything. I tell him about my mom, about her lies, about what I hoped would happen with my dad and about what happened today. I tell him about the manila envelope full of letters and about the note from my dad’s attorney where he signed away all responsibility for me. But this time I don’t cry. I think I’ve run out of tears. Or maybe I’ve just realized that my parents aren’t worth the effort.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” I say to Nick. “I mean, look at your parents. That’s how parents are supposed to be with their kids.”

“They’re not always perfect,” Nick says with a shrug.

“But at least you know they love you,” I say. “At least even when they’re mad, they’re trying to do what’s right for you.”

“I think your mom does love you,” he says.

“My mom loves my money,” I mutter.

“Well, I’m not going to argue with that,” Nick says. “But whether you see it or not, I think she loves you too. Deep down, at least. It sounds like she was trying to protect you from your dad. And I think that comes from a good place.”

“She just didn’t want him getting any of my money,” I say.