“I have to go to an open-mic night downtown tonight at nine,” I hear myself blurt out before I can stop. Sheesh, apparently Nick’s holding my hand made all common sense fly out the window. But I’ve said it. I might as well dig myself deeper into the hole. “Will you come with me?” I ask.

He grins. “What, you want to sing more Star Beck songs?” he asks. I freeze in horror for a moment, wondering how on earth he’s suddenly figured out who I am. Then I realize that all he’s talking about is my karaoke nightmare last night.

“Uh, yeah, that’s it,” I say with a shaky laugh. “You got me. I can’t get enough of that Star Beck.”

Nick laughs.

“Really, though,” he says. “Why do you have to go to this open-mic thing?”

I think for a minute about telling him that my long-lost father is the guy who runs the show. I almost say it. But somehow, I can’t. My own father hasn’t even acknowledged me yet. How can I tell Nick about him? And how could I possibly tell him that without having to explain everything else too?

“Um, well, I sing and play the guitar,” I say instead, avoiding his gaze. “I was thinking about maybe taking some lessons.”

I expect him to react like I’ve said something ridiculous, because it sounds really silly to me. But instead, he smiles and squeezes my hand.

“See, now you’re telling me something about yourself, Miss Mysterious,” he says with a smile. “It wasn’t that bad, was it? And yes, I would love to come and hear you play the guitar.”

“Really?” I ask.

“Really. How about I pick you up at eight-thirty?”

“Okay,” I agree. I suddenly realize that this could be considered a date. Have I actually made a real date?

Nick lets go of my hand. “I should go,” he says, standing up from the bed. He seems suddenly nervous. I stand up too and nod.

“Okay,” I say. We walk toward the door in silence.

“Okay,” Nick echoes. We stand by the doorway for a moment, just looking at each other. Then Nick takes a step closer. I feel like the world is moving in slow motion as I look up at him, just inches away from me. He puts his left hand gently behind my head and sort of caresses my scalp under my hair for a moment. Then he dips his face toward mine, closes his eyes and kisses me softly on the lips.

Oh my God. He tastes like Coke and pizza and boy and every other good thing I can think of. He’s perfect.

I close my eyes too and kiss him back.

It’s amazing.