“Well, it’s pretty easy to get to,” said Dad. “It’s called Bishop Inn and it’s off of Route —”

“Yeah, Bishop Inn. I know where that is. I’ve been there before,” said Drew.

Liz looked at me and raised an eyebrow. What did that mean?

“Okay. Well then, eight-thirty!” she said.

“Yeah,” said Drew, and now he was definitely looking right at me. “I’ll be there.”

“Can I say something?” Jeremy had his mouth full of toothpaste and he looked like a rabid dog foaming at the mouth.

“Only if it’s nice,” I said, stepping away from the full-length mirror. I knew I should have closed the bathroom door when I was done in there.

“That’s the fifth sweater you’ve tried on, and they all look the same.”

“They do not!” I objected, even though I knew he was right. It was pointless. Everything I had to wear was either gray or black, except for the one dark green turtleneck sweater, but that made me look like a Christmas tree without the colored lights or tinsel.

“Just wear what you had on the first time,” said Jeremy, spitting into the sink. Of course he would say that. He had no idea what the first thing I tried on was. All of my sweaters lay in a heap on the bed.

I had no one to blame but myself. I remembered packing at home the week before, complaining the whole time. Mom was sitting in my desk chair with a cup of mint tea, her legs tucked up under her.

“Aren’t you going to take a skirt or two? Something nice in case you want to get dressed up?”

“I’ll have what I wore to the wedding,” I groaned. Which was a tight black skirt that came to my knees and a black velvet V-neck. I looked like I was going to a funeral. It was also 68 degrees in Orlando. That outfit was on the bed now, too.

“Listen, I’ll meet you down there,” said Jeremy from the bathroom.

“No!” I shot back. Jeremy had it easy, with deep-set eyes — just like Mom’s — and his thick, dark curls. Why did he get the good hair? Even when it was dirty, it made sense. He just put some water on his face and he was ready to go. Like now, he was wearing the same jeans and striped thermal top that he had on this morning, but it didn’t matter.

“Just give me two more minutes,” I pleaded. “Rearrange your freckles or something.”

“Two minutes. That’s it,” he said. I heard him flop down on the bed and turn on professional wrestling. At least he was easily distracted.

I put on the velvet V-neck and my low-rider jeans. Sexy? No. What had Phoebe said when we spoke on the phone before? Sassy?

Wait.

First she said, “Aaaaaaaagh! Sam, that is so exciting!”

“Yeah, I don’t know. He’s superhot. But he’s also super-cheesy. Like, did I tell you he called me ‘doll’? And he wears those nylon pants that swish all the time?”

“Sam, he’s a skier. They have to wear nylon. It’s in their contract or something. And he was in the Olympics,” she said.

“Just the trials,” I corrected.

“Whatever, Miss Judgy McJudgealot.”

“I don’t know, it’s just …”

“Sam, this is what we have been talking about. You need to get out there! See what guys are like. Real guys.”

“Yeah, and there’s this other guy named Aaron. But he doesn’t talk much. And he kind of hunches over and his shoulders are really bony,” I said.

“Wow. Door number one, please,” said Phoebe.

“Yeah, but he could be really sweet,” I protested.

“You can have him,” said Phoebe. “I’ll take Drew — oh, I wish I was there,” she sighed.

“I do, too. Hey, how was Bonnie Briar?”

“Boo. Nothing happened. There were too many people around. Rachel and I were on one of those saucer sleddy things, and Leo and Josh kept on crashing into us.”

“Leo?” I said. I didn’t mean it to come out quite so whimpery.

“Oh, come on, Sam. Please don’t tell me you are up in a winter wonderland with Super G Hotness and you are still thinking about Leo Strumm?”

“No, but —”

“Listen, girl. You put on something sassy and some jewelry and mascara and get down to that karaoke machine. What are you gonna sing?”

I hadn’t even thought about that yet. My heart was racing already.

“Don’t worry about it. Get a standard, like Madonna or something. And just close your eyes if you have to and belt it out. Oooh! I wish I could see you,” she squealed. This would definitely be more fun if Phoebe was here with me. Forty-five minutes later, here I was, sighing into the mirror again.

“You done?” called Jeremy.

“Almost!”

The V-neck made me look really flat-chested. Ah, who was I kidding? I was pretty flat-chested. And pale. Mom always told me to put blush on, but I hated that. Instead, I pulled out my little tube of shimmery gel and squeezed out a blob. Then I rubbed some into my chest and above my eyes. Great. Now I looked like a sparkly ghost.

I searched my duffel for some jewelry. I knew there was a simple silver star I had tucked into the inside pocket.

“Time’s up!” Jeremy was in the doorway again.

“Here, Jer, can you help me?”

But when I turned toward him, he was already busy.

“Ew! Don’t pick your nose! That’s gross, Jeremy!”

“It’s not gross! It’s natural!”

Poor Liz. She had no idea what she was in for.

By the time we got downstairs, Karaoke Night was already in full swing. We followed the music through the dining area into another room, this one with a fireplace in the middle and those floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides. On the fourth side, there was a small platform, where Phil now stood.

“Stevie D. is up next. Calling to the stage Stevie D.,” announced Phil. Stevie D. was the Hawaiian-looking guy I had seen the other day. Only now he had a raccoon-eye tan from his ski goggles, and a big grin as he came up to grab the microphone.

“This one’s for you, Dara,” he said, and started in with Frank Sinatra’s “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” The crowd started humming underneath him.

The woman who must have been Dara sat two feet away, looking up at Stevie D. and mouthing all the words along with him.

I looked around. There were couches pushed to the edges of the room and little card tables set up with votive candles. Dad and Kathy were seated with another couple in the corner. I sincerely hoped they didn’t plan on staying long. There was a family of four next to them — two boys that looked to be between eight and maybe twelve. Both looking incredibly bored.

And in the center of it all was Drew. There were two seats between him and Liz. Then came Dina and Heidi, who was sitting really close to some new guy I had never met before. He had spiky hair, too, and a little goatee. Wait — wasn’t she all giggly about Drew just this afternoon? She did move fast. And I guess Aaron hadn’t made it. Which somehow didn’t surprise me really. What surprised me was that I was fine with that. My eyes were still caught on Drew. His hair was carefully tousled, his face glowing in the light of the tiny flame. He was wearing a dark sweater that outlined the shape of his broad shoulders, and he was holding a glass of something clear and chewing on an ice cube. I watched as the muscles in his jaw moved up and down.

“Hello, Darth Vader,” said Jeremy, elbowing me in the side.

I was taking deep, loud breaths through my mouth. I do that whenever I’m really nervous. I shut my mouth quickly. Get it together, Levy.

Liz looked up and waved us over, pointing to two empty seats in between her and Drew. By now, everyone was singing, “’Cause I’ve got you, under my skin!” Jeremy and I snuck over and slid into the chairs.