Page 63 of Nothing Like the Movies

“I also find it interesting that young Mr. Bennett requires you exclusively,” she said with a grin. “But I’m not saying a word.”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that,” I sputtered. “He just—”

“Liz, I know. It’s fine,” she said, turning to give me her full attention while her smile was almost a laugh. “It doesn’t matter. I want his story, and you’re getting him to give it. Relax.”

“But I just want to make sure you know that—”

“I do, I promise.” She held up a hand and said, “So when is this happening?”

“He’s going let me know later today what time he’s available.”

“Okay.” She went back to her board, scribbling something impossible to read. Lilith was back on her outline and in her own head when she said, “You can use my office for the interview, and I’ll clear out whenever it’s set.”

“Perfect,” I said, and for the first time since my conversation with Wes, it hit me, the fact that I was going to be doing another interview. I’d been so busy scrambling to get him to agree, then scrambling to get Lilith okay with his terms, that I hadn’t had a chance for it to sink in.

I was going to have to sit down with Wes.

That thought hung over me the rest of the day, totally filling me with dread as I went to class and the library. Because asking him random baseball questions was no big deal, but I was worried abouthisquestions.

Was he going to ask me about the note? About Clark? I just didn’t want to deal with theeverythingthat accompanied a conversation with Wes Bennett.

At ten thirty that night, when I was exhausted and exiting the library, my phone buzzed.

I took it out and my heart stuttered—again—at the sight of that stupid contact name.

WESSY MCBENNETTFACE.

I needed to change that immediately.

I clicked into “edit profile” and changed the contact name toWES.

Wes: I have time tomorrow morning after lifting. Does that work for you?

I’d make it work. I replied:Yes. Do you know where the Morgan Center is? We can do the interview in MC491.

Wes: Sounds good.

I texted:Great. See you then.

My phone buzzed again.

Wes: WAIT WAIT WAIT.

I looked at the message. God, what was he doing? I rolled my eyes and replied:What?

Wes: What are you doing this very second?

I replied:Besides regretting that you have my number?

Wes: Yes. Besides that.

I don’t know why I answered, but I texted:Just walking out of the library.

Wes: Oof—late night on campus. Which library?

I stared at the phone, unsure how to proceed. I could ignore him, but since I had to meet him for an interview in the morning, that seemed stupid.

But I didn’t want to text with him either.

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