Page 109 of Nothing Like the Movies

My dad’s simple statement changed my entire outlook, because he was right.

I didn’thaveto understand my feelings about Wes.

Technically, they didn’t even matter.

We weren’t dating, we weren’t really even friends, so it was okay to be conflicted. There was no one waiting for me to pass down my final decision, to render my judgment on Wes Bennett’s sins. It was okay for me to ache for what he went through, and it was okay for me to want to punch him for giving up on us.

Really, my dad was right.

Nobody cares.

Helena went on a Krispy Kreme run while I showered, so I got to wolf down a couple of donuts before we left for the airport. We picked up Clark and Lilith on the way, and when I hugged my dad goodbye in the departure drop-off lane, he solidified my okayness by repeating his sentiment but in a different font.

“Remember—you don’t have to overanalyze the past. Just live your now life.”

“I love you,” I said, squeezing him while wishing we could’ve stayed longer.

“Love you, too, kiddo,” he said.

“You’re coming home for Christmas, you little snot,” Helena said with a smile (while she cried). “So don’t even try to get out of it.”

“I won’t,” I said, wrapping her in a hug while knowing I’d never want to stay away again.

Clark tried bringing up Wes on the plane, but he was cool when I told him I didn’t want to talk about it.Allmy roommates seemed to respect my need for privacy on this after I got back, which was surprising when they were usually all over my business. I was able to spend the rest of the weekend getting caught up on my studies, and it was wonderful.

But on Sunday, as I sat at a table on the Kerckhoff patio, trying my damnedest to study for my copyright law exam, Wes was back on my mind. It was a gorgeous day, the trees giving me the perfect amount of shade as the patio buzzed with students, and I should’ve been having one of those top-ten-studying-on-campus kinds of days.

It was like a damn postcard for fall semester out there.

But I wasn’t seeing any of it, not really, because Wes kept popping into my head.

There was never anyone else for me but you.

“I thought you were studying.” Campbell sat down with a coffee and said, “It looks like you’re just staring into space with your mouth wide open.”

“What?” I blinked, slow on the uptake. “Oh, no. I was just thinking.”

“Hey, has Wade asked you for my number yet?”

She was actually kind of interested in the mildly obnoxious first baseman, but she refused to engage until he took the time to get her number from me and actually call for a date. She said she didn’t have time forboys who only chase me at parties where they think they might score, and so far, she was making the right call.

Because he never asked me about her when he was sober.

“Nope,” I said. “I saw him at practice earlier, but he was busy. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said, taking out her laptop and acting like she didn’t care, even though I knew she was disappointed. For someone who was beautiful and smart and ridiculously talented on a soccer field, she was shy when it came to guys. “I’m pretty sure he’s an asshole, anyway.”

My phone buzzed, and when I picked it up off the table, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was Wes.

Wes: Hi.

I stared at the message, my brain misfiring and shooting screaming fireworks out my ears as I struggled to figure out what to even say. How did he expect me to respond to his stupid “hi” message?

I mean, what even was that?Hi??Like we were pals and he would just text me “hi” whenever he wanted to?

Hi????

---