of each beat. Thumthum. Thumthum. Thumthum. Eight heartbeats into the conversation he came to life. “Hi,” he said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Ewan.”
“I know,” said the girl, rolling her words into a smile. “You’re the lead singer of Limestone Kingdom.”
“You’ve heard of us?” he asked, surprised.
She looked at the stage with a cool grin, amused by how rattled he was. “Um, yeah, I might have caught a show.”
He turned, looking at the stage, his face now a reddish purple. “Oh, yeah.”
“Yeah,” she nodded. Ewan floundered for a moment more before she dove in to save him. “I’m Nora.”
“Nora. Hey, I’m Ewan.”
She laughed, finding him adorable. “Yes. And before you run through it again, you’re in Limestone Kingdom, and yes, I’ve seen you perform.”
He blushed redder still. “I’m blowing this, aren’t I?”
“Oh no,” she said reassuringly. “I haven’t been insulted or called another girl’s name yet, so it could get much, much worse for you. Right now, you’re still in that charming, dorky, you-don’t-realize-I-find-you-as-attractive-as-you-find-me territory. You’re doing fine.”
Ewan scuffed the floor with his feet, his hands fiddling behind his back as if he were hiding a valentine.
“Look, you want to go somewhere or something?”
“Go somewhere?” he asked. “Like where?” Then a light went on. “Oh! Yeah! Yes I would.”
She flirted with a flutter of eyelashes and nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.”
It was cool and crisp outside, damp enough to leave dew, but not so much as to chill the bones. The club emptied right onto Sixth Street, only a light scatter of couples and cliques drunkenly wandering between each bar. Nora gracefully spun about, occasionally walking backward to maintain eye contact, quizzing Ewan on the details of his life story. She had a playful way about her, confident but effervescent, as if she was a woman already in love.
She giggled. She flirted. She shamelessly complimented him with her eyes. There was no mistaking that this girl was throwing herself at him—except, of course, for Ewan. Everything Ewan understood about girls was gleaned almost entirely from a lifetime of magazine articles and television—all of which was useless now. He was as clueless as ever.
They turned a corner and walked south, making their way across one of the wide bridges that crossed the lake, carrying them on toward south Austin.
“So, I’ve gotta ask,” said Ewan. “Who the hell are you?”
“Excuse me?” asked Nora, cocking her head, giving him a now you’re blowing it look.
“Who are you? How does an insanely good-looking girl end up alone at a bar, listening to a bunch of nobodies, before wandering off into the night with their lead nobody?”
Nora smiled, looking out over the water. “Maybe I like nobodies. Especially lead nobodies.”
“Oh, really?”
“Sure. Do you know how hard it is to land the lead singer of a band when they’re already famous? Impossible. You have to find them before they blow up, when they appreciate you as the girl who loved them when they were just a dishwasher.”
“Hey, how’d you know I was a dishwasher?”
“You’re a dishwasher? Oh, I can’t date one of those.” Nora turned back toward the bar.
“Hey!”
Nora spun back around, pointed a finger pistol at him, and fired it with a wink and a click of her tongue. “You really think tonight is my first night in that rat hole?”
“You’ve never been there before,” he argued.
“The hell I haven’t,” she said. “I’ve been in there a number of times. You’ve never noticed me, which explains why I was alone tonight.”
“How does that explain why you were alone tonight?”
“Because maybe if you’d noticed me earlier, we could have done this weeks ago.”
“I’m telling you, you’ve never been in my club.”
“Your club? Is that why you’re always helping the bartender?”
“You know what I mean. You’ve never been there.”
“Then how do I know you like blondes?” she asked, putting one hand squarely on her hip. Slowly she ran her lithe fingers through her short brown hair.
“I don’t . . . I don’t like blondes,” he said sheepishly.
“You do. You check out every blonde who walks in that place like you’re looking for someone.”
“I do not!”
“You totally do. And you’re totally busted.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re on our first date and you’re already lying to me.”
“This isn’t a . . .” He trailed off. Nora waited patiently for what he had to say next. Her reaction hinged on the very . . . next . . . word. “Wait, is this a . . .”
Nora nodded.
“So, we’re . . .”
She nodded again. “You