Michael's face was beet red, but he had a goofy little grin on his face. "Th-Thanks," he stammered. "You were great, too." He skimmed his fingers over the top of the ivories, as though trying to pick out a song. One didn't come to mind, so he settled his hands on the music rack of the piano. "There aren't a whole lot of kids our age who listen to eighties." It made some sense. They hadn't even been alive then. Too bad most of them couldn't get past the fashions.
It finally dawned on him that he had a girl sitting next to him--practically touching him--and he would have turned even more red if that were possible. Instead, Michael took a deep breath and told himself to calm down. Be cool, Mikey. Don't be a dork. He gave Katie a slightly nervous grin. "So, uh, anything you've been working on?"