Jesse nods at the guy running the cash register. The boy salutes Jesse, then goes back to plucking away at his bass. The place is empty except for a few customers who are digging through stacks of magazines and DVDs. I wonder if they’re looking for something in particular or just browsing, because I could spend my whole life looking through everything that’s here.

Jesse wanders over to the classical section as I beeline for the rock. In a relaxed silence, he and I dig through milk crates and boxes full of cracked CD cases and old records coated with dust. I discover a Queen Christmas album that I might buy.

“Got it,” Jesse says, slapping a CD against his palm.

He’d been fishing around in a milk crate for a couple of minutes. With his gaze fixed firmly on mine, he grabs my hand and leads me to a rope ladder in the corner. It goes up to what looks like a loft.

“That’s the listening room,” he says. “You can take records and CDs up there if you want to relax and listen to music. I write there when I need to get out of the studio.”

“This is your special place?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

We climb up into a cozy crawlspace with a low ceiling. I scoot across the floor and rest on an elbow. The loft is dark, only lit by black lights and a glimmer of sunlight streaming through a peephole. It smells like patchouli and incense. Patterned pillows and velvet cushions are everywhere.

“Do you like it?” Jesse asks, taking off his hat.

“I might have to steal your secret spot. I would love to hole up in here with my guitar.”

He puts the CD in the stereo while I take a look at the case: The 50 Most Essential Pieces of Classical Music. The first song is Adagio in G Minor.

I relax onto a purple quilted cushion and listen to the violin as Jesse writes in his notebook. It’s insane to think he could be composing the next Grammy-winning song of the year right next to me. I’m glad he’s getting a chance to write, since this is what he likes to do on his day off. He’s taught me so much today, I want to do something for him.

I swipe my cell screen and check the details for the Belle Carol Riverboat online, then find a text from Dave: Saw pics of you on Access Hollywood!!!!!!

There are pictures of me online? Dr. Salter is going to kill me. I won’t just get a detention; I’ll be in detention until I graduate. I scroll through the rest of my messages. My sister sent no fewer than twenty texts reminding me to get Jesse’s autograph for her.

I hold my breath when I read a text from Hannah, asking if we can talk. I don’t know what there is to say. She just stood there while the guys kicked me out of The Fringe. Not to mention that she’s with Nate now. Granted, she didn’t know I had feelings for him and we’d been fooling around, but still. I don’t feel like talking to her.

I text Dave back: Best day ever.

Today really has been the best day. We’re getting to be real friends. But what if that feeling is one-sided and I never see him again? What if he cuts off all contact with everyone after he quits the business? It’s not like people will suddenly stop mobbing him just because he doesn’t record albums anymore. How will he feel when he’s no longer playing music full time, after he’s given up his heart? He loves singing and playing guitar and loves being onstage, but that’s being drowned by all the drama offstage.

Maybe all he needs is a real good friend.

And then my cell buzzes. Dave is calling.

“Is it okay if I take this, Jess?” I ask, and he nods. “Hi,” I answer.

“Hey. I saw you almost got arrested for jumping in a fountain with Jesse Scott. There’s a video of you running from a cop.”

I cover my mouth. Yup, detention is definitely in my future. “Yeah. Jesse’s kind of crazy. How’d working at the Donut Palace go?”

“I learned how to make a bear claw!”

“Would you shut up about the bear claw already?” I hear a guy say in the background. It must be Xander, Dave’s college boy he met at Taco Bell.

I take a peek at Jesse. He’s very interested in the purple cushion all of a sudden. Is he sad?

“How’s it going with you, My?” Dave asks.

“It’s been a great day,” I reply, and Jesse looks up at me.

“Tell whoever it is I said hi,” Jesse whispers.

“Tell him yourself. His name is Dave.” I pass the phone to Jesse, who takes a deep breath.

“Hello?… I’m not gonna lie, she’s pretty nuts. She hijacked our whole day. We were supposed to go on these educational tours, and then Maya kidnapped me and made me go test-drive a sports car, and then she made me play hopscotch and go shopping for boots… Yeah, I’m being totally serious… Oh, and she won’t have sex with me either.”