Everyone's eyes are on me now, analyzing my relationship with Nathan which is not good considering I just got back together with Avi.

"We're just friends," I blurt out, then hook my finger into Avi's belt loop making it obvious we're a couple. I hold my breath and peek at Avi's reaction to all of this.

Avi takes his hands off me, saying, "You don't have to defend yourself to me, Amy. I'll be at the bar while you work this out."

Is he serious? He doesn't have any doubts or insecurities about my friendship with Nathan? "You sure?"

"Yeah." He smiles and gives me a reassuring nod.

I watch his retreating back as he weaves his way through the crowd.

Wes, the guy from the Jewish youth group who helped me get Nathan in the band, weaves his way through the crowd. "Nate rocks, Amy. Thanks for bringing him by the other night. We're thinking of making him a permanent sub for Lickity Split."

"Cool," I say, but I'm not really paying attention to Wes or Bicky. Or Miranda, for that matter, even though she's in a deep conversation with a guy who I remember seeing at the youth group.

"Nathan..." I say, wanting to apologize for kissing him. I also want to tell him I'm sorry he has to deal with a screwed-up girlfriend on his first night singing with the band.

"It's cool, Amy."

"I can stay and help if you want."

"You've helped enough, bitch, don't you think?" Bicky slurs. I seriously think she wants to fight me, like in a physical fight. As I'm contemplating who would win in a fight between me and Bicky, I wonder if they teach tae kwon do in rehab. Because the only physical fight I've ever been in was with the sheep on the moshav last summer in Israel. And in the disco in Israel, but that was only because of the ear-licker--long story.

Bicky holds her hands out wide, "You want some of this?"

"Not really," I say. Is she joking?

Obviously not. My response really pisses her off, because now Nathan is trying to hold her back from charging me. I swear I'm living in the Twilight Zone. This girl seriously wants to deck me.

Not knowing what else to do, I close my fingers tightly into fists and hold them up by my face. The crowd around me starts moving backward. I think they're chanting "Chick Fight!" but I'm not sure. Whatever they're chanting, though, is fueling my bravery. Getting into the role, I start hopping around like boxers do. Maybe Bicky is too wasted and she'll fall to the ground on the first swing. It's wishful thinking, right?

If I break a nail I swear the chick is paying for a new manicure.

"You want some of this? Come and get me!" I say, playing the role while psyching myself up. I can seriously get into this, acting all tough and crazy. Be afraid, everyone. Here comes the champion girl fighter of our time, Amy Nelson-Barak!

From behind me, an arm snakes around my side and pulls me backward.

"What the...?"

I'm kicking whoever is holding me and punching at the arm, which is locked around me like a metal vice. Whoever it is drags me outside and sets me down on the sidewalk. I turn around and should have known nobody is as strong as my boyfriend who said he didn't want to deal with the drama, but ends up in the middle of it.

"What. Do. You. Think. You. Were. Doing?" Avi says each word slowly as if I'm an imbecile. His eyes are intense and his hands are shaking. I've never seen Avi shake before and it scares me.

"I'm sorry," I say.

He opens his hands out wide. "I leave you alone for two minutes and you're acting like a hellcat. How can I leave you for three years, Amy? I can't protect you while I'm in Israel."

I point to the club. "Bicky started it."

"So you took the bait?"

Uh, yeah. "What was I supposed to do, back down?"

"Yes," he says without hesitation.

"That's not me. Do you back down, Avi? Please tell me once in your life when you've backed down," I say, getting really riled up now because adrenaline is rushing through my body and I'm frightened because Avi's hands are still shaking.

No response.

Avi stares at his hands in horror, curses, then shoves them into the front pockets of his jeans. He swallows, looks away from me, and says, "Let's go."

I stay where I am, unmoving from this spot on the sidewalk in front of Durty Nevin's because I finally figured it out. What's making Avi shake.

His emotions are running rampant and he's not used to it.

Avi is a guy who is always in control of his body and mind. Even when I kidnapped him, he was in total control of the situation the entire time. Adrenaline he can handle, emotions he can't.

"You were afraid I was going to get hurt. That's why you're shaking," I blurt out.

He stops. His back is to me. "I don't shake."

"Then show me your hands."

"No."

"Avi, it's okay to be emotional."

"For you, maybe. But not for me." I put my hand on his arm, knowing his pain about Micha's death is as raw in his chest now as it was when his brother first died. It has nothing to do with me and the fight. Avi can't let go of the pain of Micha's death, but still refuses to grieve. "You're only eighteen. And I hate to break the news to you, but you're human."

"I can't lose you, Amy," he says, his voice tense even though I sense he's trying to control his tone. "I came to America to prove to myself that I wasn't attached to you, that you weren't as important to me as my mind was telling me you were. I was wrong."

"You rode on a plane for twelve hours just to break up with me?" I say, totally confused and insulted now. I mean, seriously, to come all this way to prove I'm not worthy. "If that isn't the stupidest, most ridiculous, asinine thing I've ever heard," I say, then start walking across the street because I need space.

"A car is coming," he says.

Sure enough, I look behind me and a Honda Pilot is turning the corner and heads right to where I'm standing. "Aren't you going to save me?" I yell.

"Yeah, I am."

He walks fast to the curb and is about to step onto the street when I tell him, "If you take one step closer, it's over between us. I mean it."

"That car is gonna hit you," he says seriously, his eyes blazing with intensity. But he does stop cold in his tracks at the curb.

"They see me," I assure him.

Avi cocks his head to the side in confusion while his hands come out of his pockets. He's trying to look relaxed, but I can tell he's ready to pounce and save me at any second.

"They'll stop," I say again, trying to prove a point that I'll be okay whether he's here to save me or not. He's not always going to be around to play Superman. Just like he wasn't around to save his brother when that bomber decided to kill innocent Israelis. My boyfriend is human and for once needs to let go and realize it.

Avi is looking at the car coming closer and then back at me. I can feel the struggle within him all the way over here. "Maybe they don't care," he says frantically to me. "Maybe they can't see you in the dark. Maybe the driver is drunk and--"

"Maybe I'll be okay, Avi."

"What if you're not? What if you die?"

I put my hand out. When the car reaches me, it comes to a halt. "Yo, chick, you gonna get out of the way?" a guy yells out the window.

"Everyone dies."

"Do you blame me for wanting to protect you, Amy? Now please get out of the street."

The guy in the car starts blowing his horn, really loud and it's hurting my already sensitive eardrums.

"I'm trying to teach my boyfriend a lesson," I scream at the driver. "Do you mind?"

"Yeah," he yells back. "Go teach him a lesson on Lower Wacker Drive where all the other wackos hang out."

"They give tickets for road rage in Chicago, you know," I say, then roll my eyes.

"Amy...I'm coming to get you in ten seconds."

"They give tickets for jaywalking in Chicago," the guy yells while intermittently beeping his horn. I get a little satisfaction he can't pass me because there's no room on the street.

"You have five more seconds to get your ta'chat over here."

"Do you love me, Avi?"

"Yes. Four seconds."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes. Two seconds."

"Dude, if you don't get your crazy girlfriend out of my path I'm gonna move her myself."

"Amy," Avi says, closing his eyes tight and opening them again. Two seconds have come and gone. He has a pleading look in his eyes, eyes that are glassy with unshed tears. " B'vakasha. Please."

Okay, I give in. Because I've proven my point that I will be okay and Avi has proven that he can trust me. I walk over to him, my gaze never leaving his. The car screeches away. "You see. I survived."

His arms wrap around me, pulling me close.

"You're not shaking anymore," I say.

"I'm too angry with you to be scared."

"Angry? Listen, you've got to give up this superhuman theme going on in your life. Shit happens. Life happens, okay? You're leaving tomorrow and who knows what'll happen. Am I gonna sit around my room so nothing terrible can possibly happen to me? No. Are you going to sit in your army barracks and tell your commander you can't protect Israel because your crabby girlfriend will die if you get so much as a scratch on that perfect bod or face of yours? No."

"Stop talking so I can kiss you."

"You can't shut me up with kisses, you know."

"Wanna bet?" he says, smiling with those perfect white teeth while putting his perfect hands on my body as he lowers his perfect full lips to mine and proves to me he's right.

"Let's go back to your place," he says when we come up for air.

I'm holding on to his biceps for support because his kisses still make me feel drunk. "My aba is there. If you even kiss me he'll probably kill you first and ask questions later."

Back at the apartment my dad is nowhere to be seen. I check the messages. There's one from him saying he has to stay late for an emergency meeting. Then he says to make sure Avi is listening to the message, too, and the rest of the message is all in Hebrew.

I roll my eyes. "Is he having another sex talk?"

"Oh, yeah. Big time."

I stop the machine before the message finishes and give Avi a mischievous look. "What are you thinking?"

"Which rooms your dad has strategically placed the hidden cameras."

I laugh. "That's ridiculous. My dad doesn't have any hidden cameras in this house."

"He sounded pretty convincing, but I have an idea."

We get ready for bed, like a married couple except for the fact that we're just two trusting teenagers in complete love with each other. Avi's bed is still the couch in the living room, but this time I snuggle under the covers with him because my overprotective father isn't home watching our every move.

"I like this," I say. "So what's your idea?"

Avi pulls the covers over our heads so we're cloaked in complete darkness.

I finger his stubble with my fingertips. "This is your big idea?"

"It was either under the blanket or inside the hall closet."

"It's all sababa" I say, and Avi laughs. "Yeah, it is."