Page 112 of Nothing Like the Movies

“I can’t believe this is for Buxxie,” Eli said, shaking his head. “Where are you going to put all those things?”

“Bend over and I’ll show you,” I said, quoting Clark Griswold as I hauled in the rest of the daisies.

“It’s like a promposal up in here,” I heard Wade say to AJ. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

I couldn’t either, to be honest, but the joke was on them.

Because I didn’t give a damn.

I was bringing everything I had and leaving it all on the field.

Or on the balcony, in this instance.

Once I’d unloaded all the daisies, I put on headphones and cranked the playlist Liz made for me after prom as I sat on the floorand started plucking petals. “Feel You Now” was suddenly like my crafting pump-up music, and it also served to tune out my friends, who were taking photos as I worked and calling me “sweetheart.”

They promised not to post them until after I swept her off her feet, so it was fine.

By the time I was done, I had a few gallon-size baggies full of white petals, a few gallon-size baggies full of yellow petals, marker-stained fingers, and a stomach full of nerves.

So yeah—I was ready.

Once it was dark outside, I loaded everything—except the bouquet of hot-pink gerbera daisies—into my biggest backpack, and Mick drove me to Liz’s apartment building. I knew exactly which balcony was theirs—I’d staked it out with Mick on the way to flowers—and I also knew it was an easy climb up to the second floor.

Thank God the fancy building had garden-level apartments because that meant the second floor wasn’t so high that I was risking my life.

I was merely risking broken bones.

AJ had a class with Campbell, apparently, so he helped me out by texting:I need a favor, no questions asked.To which Campbell responded:Tell me what I’m doing.She’d agreed to make sure Liz’s drapes would be closed while I worked, and then as soon as I finished, Liz would be sent out onto the balcony, wherein she would see my display.

Then she’d look down and see me, standing below with myLove Actuallyknock-off posters. My Sharpie words weren’t necessarily rom-com-worthy sentiments, but I felt like they were us, and Iwanted to make her soften more than I wanted to breathe.

Mick parked the car, so I strapped on the backpack and grabbed the bouquet.

“You sure about this, Bennett?” he asked, half smiling like he still couldn’t believe I was doing it.

“Yes,” I said. “You can take off. And thanks, by the way.”

“And you don’t want me to stay?” He eyeballed me like I was making a big mistake. “Just in case… uh, anything goes wrong?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I said, hoping that was true. Hoping she’d let me in after the big moment so we could talk and I could apologize.

“Okay, then.” He gave me a little smile and said, “Good luck, man.”

I watched him pull away, and then it hit me, that it was a little nerve-wracking, actually doing it. The back of the building was dark and quiet, like everyone had already gone to bed, and I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t die, get my ass kicked, or get mauled by an angry rottweiler.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a guy on the garden floor of the other building, doing something outside his sunken patio.Go to bed, dude.He looked like he was watering plants, maybe? He seemed focused on his work, unaware of my presence, so hopefully he stayed on task and didn’t notice the moron scaling the building next to his.

I looked up at Liz’s balcony.

Oof.

It definitely looked higher when you were about to climb up to it.

I took a deep breath, said a little prayer, then got to work.

I walked over to the garden apartment that was below Liz’s and stepped on the railing. My shoe made a noise, the ring of hollow wrought iron being kicked, and I quickly grabbed the gutter and stepped up onto the limestone that jutted out from the building’s facade.

I definitely did not want to linger in front of someone’s balcony after dark and get accused of being a Peeping Tom.

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