He didn't seem to notice though, and he made small talk while the hostess seated us at our table. Probably he was used to girls being speechless around him.

Dinner went surprisingly well. Mostly we stayed on safe topics—like our hobbies—we both loved skiing, and we made a date to go the first weekend after the lifts opened. We also talked about a lot of current events. I felt myself stretching to explain my opinions and the logic I'd used to reach them. He listened, and although he didn't agree with me about everything, he respected what I said. I could tell he was smart, and he made me feel like I was smart too.

When had Mike ever made me feel that way?

A few times the subject matter wandered dangerously close to identifying me as a high school senior. That's when I remembered Rachel's advice. When he asked what classes I had, I said, "Just the usual stuff. What about you? What's your favorite class?"

It was biology, something that slightly bothered him since he'd already decided to go the MBA route. It was his family's way of life. They ran businesses.

After that we talked about business, family expectations, and whether it was wise to strike out in new directions if other things interested you.

When we finished dinner we wandered over to Baskin-Robbins for milk shakes. Not because we were hungry; neither of us wanted to say good night yet. The night air chilled my face as we walked, a reminder that November was here, and snow wouldn't be far behind. We took our cups and strolled over to the patio area near the river. The Palouse River is actually more of a stream as it runs through Pullman, and it mostly consists of mud, but it was nice to sit on a bench and look at it, because I was alone with Tanner.

He asked me where I lived—a definite danger area. If I told him, "With my family" he'd ask why. I hesitated and said, "Your parents run the Hilltop, so they must be residents. Do you live with them or on campus?"

True to Rachel's advice, he didn't seem to notice I hadn't answered his question. He said, "I'm in Perham Hall."

"Didn't want to live with your parents?"

"Didn't want to live with my brother."

"Oh, you don't get along?"

He shrugged. "Some of the time we do, but most of the time I want to kill him." He paused for a moment. "You probably think I'm terrible for saying that, don't you?"

"No. I have a little sister, remember?"

"Oh yeah." He shot me a smile. "Tell me about your sister."

Danger area. I smiled back at him. "Tell me about your brother."

He leaned back on his hands, considering. "My brother is the smartest person I know, but he's devoted his entire life to slacking off. I can't tell you the last time he helped out at the restaurant."

I nodded. "My sister blames me for all her problems."

Tanner held out his hand as though showing me something. "My brother hates everything I do. I did sports, so he won't. I got good grades, so he won't. If I've done anything, it isn't cool."

I took a sip of my shake. "My sister refuses to think about her future, plus most of the time she dresses like the bride of Satan."

"My parents would never let me get away with half the stuff my brother gets away with."

"Exactly," I said, relieved that he understood—and surprised that I'd found someone who felt like I did. "My mother is too busy dealing with my sister to pay attention to my life."

Tanner nodded and turned back to me. "It sounds like they'd make quite a pair. Maybe we should get them together."

I shook my head and fast. "No way. My sister just broke up with her loser boyfriend. I'm hoping next time she'll choose someone who wants to reform her."

Tanner shrugged. "Yeah, and actually my brother already has a loser girlfriend." He gave me a quirky smile. "She drives my parents crazy. All you have to do is say the word 'grand-kids' and my mom shudders."

I raised my cup in a toast. "Here's to our future family reunions. May the normal people outnumber the hoodlums and slackers."

Tanner tapped his cup into mine. "We can always hope."

We both took a drink, but the next moment my relief gave way to sadness. Adrian and I had been so close when we were younger. Would it ever be that way again?

I looked down into my cup and didn't say anything. I felt Tanner's gaze on me, but he didn't say anything either. Maybe he understood my silence just like he'd understood my complaints.

Finally I looked back up at him. "I really love her," I said. "I worry about her all the time."

He put his hand on my back and rubbed a slow pattern of consolation across the material of my jacket. "I know what you mean."

He kept rubbing my back and I leaned my head into the crook of his shoulder. How had this happened so fast? Usually on a first date I worried about what kind of impression I made. I'd not only told Tanner about Adrian, I'd leaned into his shoulder like I'd known him forever.

Neither of us said anything for a moment. Then Tanner said, "I'm sure you're a really good sister."

I straightened up to tell him he was wrong. There were many times when I was an awful sister, but before I could say anything he leaned over and kissed me. Which put thoughts of Adrian right out of my mind.

It's not that I hadn't been kissed before. But kissing Tanner made me feel like it was the first time. My heart pounded and I felt dizzy and happy and awkward all at the same time.

When he finally stopped kissing me, I didn't know what to say and felt myself blush bright red. That's the problem with blushing. Telling yourself that you shouldn't do it, doesn't help at all.

Tanner smiled at me then looked away. I could tell he was weighing some matter in his mind, trying to decide something. At last he said, "My grandmother is coming from California for a visit in a few days. We're having a big family dinner up at the house on Monday. I know it might seem too soon to meet my family but it would be nice to have you there, you know, to kind of balance out my brother's loser girlfriend and show Grandma that one of us has normal taste. Do you want to come?"

"Sure." That's how much I liked Tanner. I wanted to spend time with him even if it meant meeting his family, his slacker brother, and a loser girlfriend.

I spent the rest of the week working on homework, singing practice, and dance rehearsal. We had it down perfectly, and it looked good. Sometimes while we ran through it, I imagined myself performing under a spotlight that illuminated me to thousands of screaming fans. What would it feel like to be a star? To be rich? To be famous?

Even though I tried to be realistic and not get my hopes up, thoughts would pop into my mind. I'd look across our cramped kitchen and think, "If I had a music deal, I could buy my mother a new house."

Unfortunately this thought was quickly followed by, "If my dad found out I was rich, he would try to take the money from me."

I spent about half an hour one night worrying about this, and remembering the times when I was little and he emptied my piggy bank because he needed money for liquor. My father wasn't nice when he was sober, but he was worse when he was drunk. I didn't have a good childhood.

Most of my early years were spent watching out for Adrian because she was a couple of years behind me in understanding how to keep out of his way. We either roamed around the neighborhood like miniature nomads on bikes, or we hid in my room, inventing fairy spells to keep him away. Our best one was touching the doorknob, then tapping the edge of the door three times when we passed by.