East Atlanta

"You'll thank me later, chica." She lightly shoves me forwards.
Carmella walks over to Miguel and they start grinding against each other, dancing to the music. I take a deep breath and slowly make my way over to him. God, he's cute. Even for a white guy. After my nana died, mom sometimes had many men of many different races over and every time she would tell me that I'm going to have a better life than hers. So here I am, a virgin whose never had a date or even flirted with a guy once, but at least tonight I am going to try.
I sit down next to the guy, my hands shaking as I place myself on the bar stool. My heart pounds as I try to think of a conversation starter. God, what can I say? Did Carmella mention something about the zodiac sign or something? God, I feel so stupid!
"You sang beautifully," a male voice says
I glance over at the man I'm too nervous to talk to. His eyes, a beautiful shade of amber brown, is on me. I feel like a ghost, like that comment wasn't even for me. But then I realize-he was talking to me.