As soon as he’s gone, I’m thinking about Nick again, wondering where he is and why he hasn’t come to find me. How could he not have mentioned Kallie to me? Did I totally misread everything?

I take another swig of my beer as the girl messes up the song again. Then it’s over and the karaoke guy’s eyes scan the crowd.

“You!” he says. It takes me a moment to realize he’s pointing to me. “You’re next!”

“Me?”

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“A-Amanda,” I stammer.

“Come on, A-Amanda!” he says back, obviously making fun of me. “We don’t have all day!”

Everyone laughs. I just sit there. I can’t get up and sing karaoke. What if someone recognizes me?

“A-man-da! A-man-da!” the people clustered around the TV start chanting. Nervously, I stand up and make my way to the front of the room. Everyone cheers. Karaoke Guy shuffles through his CDs, pops one in and grins at me.

“You’re gonna sing Star Beck’s ‘You Don’t Know Me,’ ” he announces. There are a few laughs in the crowd, and I can feel all the blood drain from my face. He pushes Play, and the familiar first chords of my song ring out.

“But I can’t!” I exclaim as the karaoke machine plays the familiar intro. Everyone laughs.

“You can’t?” asks Karaoke Guy, sounding amused. “Why?”

“Uh . . . I hate Star Beck!” I shout out the only thing I can think of.

“Star Beck’s a hottie!” yells one guy.

“She’s a slut!” yells another. “But I’d do her!” Everyone laughs. I feel sick.

“C’mon, Amanda!” Karaoke Guy says. “Everyone’s gonna be pissed if you don’t sing.”

And so I do. Against all my better judgment, I stand up, wait for the intro to end and start belting out the words to my own song. And I realize immediately that I’m completely off-key, probably thanks to the liquor.

“Don’t stand so close,” I begin. I clear my throat and my voice wobbles a bit. “You can see my fears. Things aren’t as perfect as they appear. You hold me close and wipe my tears.” I stop for a minute for the instrumental break. The crowd has quieted a bit.

“She knows all the words!” exclaims one girl. I look at her guiltily and realize I haven’t looked at the screen once.

“This sucks!” says another. “This is supposed to be a drinking game!”

“But you don’t know me,” I continue singing. I feel my voice slip into key. “You’ve never known me. Oh, oh, oh . . . Just leave me here!”