On Friday afternoon, I was perched on my bathroom counter, Via bent over me, applying my make-up. I had enlisted her eyeliner expertise to help me get ready for my date with Phil. Already I was noticing a big difference between this Friday night's date and the one the Friday night before it. For one, there were butterflies in my stomach again—but this time, they were excited ones instead of nervous ones. And I wasn't constantly praying that this night would turn out perfectly—I already knew for sure that it would.

"You look great, Keely. Phil isn't going to know what hit him," Via assured me, adding the finishing touches to my eyes. "And I'll still be here when you get back and I am going to want to know exactly everything that happens."

"Are you sure you're not going to be bored here all night while I'm gone?" I asked. Via had insisted on hanging out in my room while I was out with Phil and then sleeping over afterwards instead of just coming back later.

"I'll be fine. You've got enough magazines in your room to keep me occupied for decades." The doorbell rang. "There's Phil. You'd better go."

I hopped down from the counter, and Via handed me my purse. "Thank you so much for everything," I said, hugging her. "You're the best."

"I know," Via teased. "Have a good time. And don't forget, I want every detail."

"You've got it. Every detail," I promised as I went down the stairs. "Bye, Vee!"

Phil was already standing in the front hall when I made it downstairs, chatting with my mom. There was another thing—I didn't have to worry about "embarrassing parent syndrome" (as Trent had put it) when the guy I was going on a date with was Phil. He already knew everything there was to know about me, and hadn't run screaming yet.

"Hey, Phil," I greeted him with a smile—an honestly genuine smile. "Are you ready to go?"

Phil nodded, and I said goodbye to my mom, and we were off. He held my hand as we started down the sidewalk.

"I know walking isn't as good as driving--" he began.

I interrupted him. "Better."

From that moment on, there wasn't a single gap in conversation. We talked and laughed all the way to the movies, and I knew I was right about this night being perfect.

Phil let me pick what we saw—Samurai Love You Too, of course—and I was more than happy to lean my head on his shoulder when he put his arm around my shoulder halfway through the movie. It all felt so comfortable, like, "why haven't we been doing this all along?"

We held hands the whole way home, and way too quickly our date had ended. Before I knew it, we stood together beneath my dim porch light, saying goodnight.

"Thanks for letting me pick the movie," I told him. "This date was so much better than the other one. When I was with Trent, the entire time I kept waiting for the date to be over so I could go be with you. But tonight, I already was."

Phil smiled. "Well, I'm glad you had fun," he said. "Because I did, too."

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds, and in the silence I discovered the biggest difference between tonight and the Friday before it. A week ago, I'd been standing in exactly this spot, worried that Trent might kiss me, and now, I was worried that Phil might not.

I shouldn't have been worried, though. Because just at that moment, Phil closed the foot of space between us and kissed me, wrapping his arms around me. This time, my eyes slid easily shut and I didn't ever want it to end.

But it did, as all good things must, leaving us both with ridiculously large smiles on our faces.

"Did that one count?"

"Oh, trust me," I told him as I leaned in for kiss number two. "It counted."