Page 27 of Nothing Like the Movies

Are you freaking kidding me?

I couldn’t be positive, but that idiot looked a lot like Wes Bennett from behind.

As if hearing me, the guy suddenly whipped the scooter around and came back in the opposite direction, riding toward me.

Whyyyyyy, Universe?

It was definitely Wes, and he was wearing his smart-ass grin as he scootered toward me.

“I cannot believe the slowpoke I almost flattened is Lizzie Buxbaum,” he said, turning yet again so now he was riding alongside me.

“Believe it,” I said, and I just kept walking, hoping he’d go away.

“I’m really sorry for the near-miss.”

I glanced over at him. He didn’t look sorry as he watched me, slow-riding on that scooter while wearing the bratty half smile that brought back a thousand memories I didn’t want to remember.

No, he looked amused as his mouth slid into an even bigger grin. “This is when you say, ‘That’s okay, Wes.’?”

“No, this is when I say, ‘Can you go scooter somewhere else, Wes?’?”

His eyes were dancing when he said, “Idohave to get to class, so I’m going to let that slide.”

“Oh, joy,” I muttered, walking a little faster.

“But Lib?” he said, his voice scratching the part of my brain that used to listen to Bazzi on repeat.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, nearly speed-walking even though I knew there was no escaping him.

He sighed dramatically and said, “It was really great seeing you.”

And then he zipped away.

It felt like my teeth were going to shatter because I was gritting them so hard as he disappeared from my line of sight.

Why is this happening to me?

I’d spent all of Saturday spiraling, freaking out about the fact that he was here. Every time I was able to calm down and convince myself it was no big deal—it’s been years and we’re both differentpeople now—I’d picture his face when he smirkily said,Is that what we were?and the rage was immediately back.

Asshole.

Because it wasn’t fair that he was here. This wasmyplace, dammit.

I had a life that I liked at school, a life that cameafterthe ruins of us. A life builtbecausemy first attempt had crashed and burned. So somehow, the idea of Wes in close proximity to it felt precarious, like his smart-assit was really great seeing youpresence could ruin all the little wonderfuls that I’d carefully created.

And God—my job (and now my internship) was all about UCLA athletics. It was important to me, and I was terrified he was going to mess it up or make me love it less. And in addition to that, how was I supposed to avoid him when the primary task of my vocation was to capture athletes on film, and he was an athlete?!

Gaaaaaaaaah.

Somehow he’d just landed in the center of my million-miles-away-from-Omaha world and it wasn’t fair.

Clark brushed the whole thing off and thought I was totally overreacting.

“First of all, he thinks you have a boyfriend, so I’m sure he’ll stay away from you because I’m ridiculously intimidating. Second, it’s not even baseball season yet, so we won’t do jack with the team until spring. And if therearebaseball assignments, I’ll just focus on the pitchers, and you can do the rest. Problem solved.”

I took a deep breath and told myself Clark was right.

This was a huge school, so the odds were in my favor that run-ins like the one we’d just had would be few and far between. And Clark’s plan for Wes-avoidance was totally doable.

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