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Next up, compliments. You have to let your date know that you appreciate their effort to dress nice. And trust me, Elliot has dressed more than nice. He’s traded in his usual hoodie and jeans for a nice shirt and a pair of khakis that hug his lean legs in all the right places.

“You look great, by the way,” I tell him as we buckle up. “Not that you don’t always look great! I just meant, you know, you lookextragreat tonight. Date-level great.”

Smooth, Gerard. Real smooth.Minus half a point.

“Thanks, Gerard. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

As I put the car into drive, I think about how the compliments didn’t go exactly according to plan. But I’ve still got a few more rom-com tricks up my sleeve.Don’t you worry.

“Do you have any specific radio station you want to listen to?” I spare him a glance before pulling out onto the road that will take us off campus.

He shrugs. “I’m not picky. Though, if I had to choose, I prefer pop music.”

We come up to a red light, and I fiddle with the radio dial, determined to find the perfect station. I land on a local station playing Ed Sheeran’s “Lego House.” I tap my fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat.

“Oh, I love this song.” A rare smile appears on Elliot’s face.

I glance over at him. “Yeah? Me too. It’s got a great message about building a relationship brick by brick and creating something solid and everlasting.”

“Exactly. It’s not about grand gestures or flashy displays. It’s about the little things.”

While Ed Sheeran’s soulful voice serenades us, I think about how perfectly the lyrics apply to this moment. Elliot and I are two people driving down the street and listening to music.Simple, yet effective.

The light turns green, and I ease my foot off the brake, allowing the car to roll forward. A comfortable silence settles over us. The kind of silence that reminds me of a well-worn hoodie or a favorite pair of sneakers. The kind that doesn’t need to be filled with constant chatter or nervous energy. The kind you can only have with someone you like and who you know is okay with the silence, too.

Elliot tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He looks peaceful,and I dare say it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen all week.

I wonder what he’s thinking about. Is he mentally reviewing the menu? Pondering the mysteries of the universe? Attempting to figure out how many stars are in the sky or why cats always land on their feet? Or maybe—hopefully—he’s thinking about me.

“Hey, Gerard?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you sing?”

Like a dodo head, I point at myself. “Me?”

Elliot snickers. “Yes, you.”

“Not professionally, but I’ve been known to bust out a Carly Rae Jepsen song at karaoke nights when I’ve had a few beers.”

“Would you maybe sing for me?”

I nearly slam on the brakes in surprise. “Right now?”

Elliot rolls his eyes. “No, next year. Yes, right now.”

Either my ears are playing tricks on me, or Elliot wants me to sing to him.

“I…yeah, I can do that…for you.” My heart does a triple axel in my chest as I contemplate what to sing. Everything I can come up with is inadequate for the situation. “Any suggestions?”

Elliot reaches for the radio and turns the volume down. “Elton John’s ‘Your Song.’”

That…is an excellent choice. I want to kick myself for not having thought of it myself.

“Alright. Here goes.” I clear my throat, moisten my lips, then sing my heart out.

For him.