Page 23 of Nothing Like the Movies

She leaned closer to the camera and pointed her finger at me. “Wesley, you need to tell her the truth.”

“I mean, how can I when she isn’t single?” I’d love for her to know the truth, but there wasn’t a good way to just spit out those words. “It doesn’t exactly come up in the conversations we aren’t having.”

“I don’t know, but you just have to say it. Spit out the words.” She shrugged and said, “Even if it’s awkwardly blurted-out in the middle of the quad, just get the truth out there.”

“I don’t think UCLA has aquad.”

“Wesley.”

“Sarah Beth.”I looked up at the full moon and stood. “I honestly don’t think that would change anything.”

“But it could change everything, you idiot!” She was all fired up now, making me actually regret telling her because I was too exhausted to deal with her attitude.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, dropping to sit on the curb.

“Why wait? Why think? Go back to the party and shout it, Wesley!”

“I have to go.”

“Dammit, Wes, you need to strike now, while it’s new—don’t you see that? If you drag your feet, it might become…notnew with the boyfriend, and then itdefinitelywon’t matter.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, kid,” I said. “I’m hanging up now.”

“But—”

I disconnected the call. I knew she had the best of intentions, but I didn’t want to talk about this. Not with her or anyone.

No, I’d much rather stew and lose my mind over this all by myself.

And she was wrong, by the way.

Because I knew Liz. Giving her the hard press with shouted confessions, after not speaking for almost two years, would only push her away. It was why I hadn’t tracked her down on move-in day.

I was being patient.

If we were ever going to have a second chance, I needed to convince her to become my friend first. To let me in again.

Which seemed a hell of a lot more difficult now that she had a boyfriend.

As if on cue, my daily watch alarm went off.

It was 12:13 a.m.

Seriously, Universe, you’re hilarious.

Fuckme.

Liz had teasingly set the alarm for me the summer we were together, so that every night I would be forced to stop and recognize the anniversary of the moment we’d kissed under the streetlight on prom night.

Silly little love lover.

I wasn’t sure why I’d never deleted the alarm, to be honest.

“Bennett, you little bitch,” I heard as a car slowed beside me. I narrowed my eyes and saw Wade, Mickey, AJ, and a girl I didn’t know, all crammed into a silver Honda that had a silver-haired man behind the wheel. Mickey rolled down the front passenger window and said, “Get in.”

“I can’t believe you’re done at the party already,” I said, putting my phone in my pocket.

“Campbell said she was hungry,” AJ said from where he appeared to be squeezed against the door in the back seat, “so Brooks called an Uber so we can go get some food.”

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