“You’re awfully quiet,” says Nick, glancing over at me. We’ve been in his Jeep for ten minutes, and I haven’t said a word. I’m feeling really underdressed in the Rolling Stones tee, jeans and flip-flops that I arrived to work in that afternoon, but I didn’t want to go back to my motel room. Nick still doesn’t know I live at the good ol’ Star Light next door. I have the feeling that if he did, it would lead to a whole slew of other questions that I just don’t know how to answer.

“I’ve just had a long day,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool,” he says. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to come with me to this party if you don’t want to. No pressure or anything.”

“No,” I say. I look at him and try to smile. “I want to go.”

And I do. A little bit, anyhow. The more I think about it, the more intrigued I am. I’ve never been to a real party. Sure, there were birthday parties and stuff like that when I was a little kid, before I got famous. But I have the feeling this will be like one of those teenage parties I’ve seen on TV. And what could be more normal than going to a normal party with normal people? It’s just one more step toward leaving Star Beck behind and becoming Amanda Mecham. Or Amanda Pepper. Or whoever I am.

“It’s mostly some friends I went to high school with,” Nick explains. “And some friends from college too. I won’t know everyone there. But it’ll be a cool group, I think.”

“Well, thank you for inviting me,” I say. Nick glances at me and smiles.

“I wanted my friends to meet you,” he says.

I look at him in surprise.

“You told your friends about me?” I ask. He nods.

“You did? What did you say?”

“Just that you seem like a really cool girl,” he says. He slows to a stop at a traffic light and turns his head to look straight at me. “And that I think I kind of like you.”

My insides do a crazy somersault-backflip. Nick smiles at me, winks one of his big brown eyes and then turns his attention back to the road.

We drive for another few minutes in silence, and I realize I’m finding it impossible to wipe the smile from my face.

I try not to think about the fact that our whole relationship so far is based on one big lie.