Page 69 of Nothing Like the Movies

“But I was head over heels in love with everything in my life.”

He was looking into the stationary camera, but I couldn’t stop staring at the brown eyes that I’d been head over heels in love with.

Clark cleared his throat—thank God—pulling me out of my own head. I went back to the questions, but my stomach dropped when I read the next one.

“Th-then you got the news of your father’s passing,” I said, my voice barely there because my mouth didn’t want to form the words. “How did you find out initially?”

Pain crossed his face like a storm. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, and his Adam’s apple moved around a thick swallow. I wanted to tell him not to answer, that he didn’t have to answer, but this was only the third or fourth question; I couldn’t.

I needed to pull this off for Lilith.

“My mother called,” he said, his voice a little raspy. “We were working on pickoff plays at Jackie, the day before our exhibition game, when Coach Ross came out to tell me I had an emergency call.”

I couldn’t look away from his face, even though I knew the story.

“And she told me he was gone.” He shrugged, looking out the window like the scene was playing out on Bruin Walk. His voicewas hollow, matter-of-fact, and I felt like he’d forgotten about Clark, the camera, and me.

“Just like that. ‘Wes, your dad is gone.’ I actually asked her where he went, like an idiot, because I couldn’t comprehend her meaning. I mean, I’d just talked to him that morning.”

I didn’t know this part. My side of the recollection was of him walking into my dorm room when he was supposed to be at practice. Of me sayingWhat are you doing here?and of him sayingMy dad diedand then breaking down a little.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d ever even known exactly how he found out.

“Next question.”

“What?” I said, blinking fast, unaware that I’d drifted away.

“What is the next question?” Wes repeated, his face a tight mask, his eyes stillnoton me.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” I inhaled through my nose and looked down at the sheet, hating myself for asking him to do this. “Um, what was it like to process that news at that time?”

“Comeon,” he mumbled, exhaling and sitting back in the chair. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t think he was going to give me an answer (and I wouldn’t blame him for passing), but then he said, “Um, it was terrible, but processing the news that he was gone—while I was still in LA—was, uh, incorrect, I guess you could say. I processed it in a kid-loses-his-father way, devastated that he was gone, but the gravity of my situation hadn’t hit me yet. It didn’t occur to me at all that I would go home for his funeral and never sleep in my dorm room again, y’know?”

I didn’t want to do this anymore. I knew the story—I was there, beside him, for this part of the story—but I didn’t think either one of us should revisit it together. I opened my mouth to comment, because these film packs were supposed to be moderately conversational, but I couldn’t force myself to speak.

Or even move on to the next question.

It felt like a lie, like we were acting out the most depressing play in the world, because I knew the answers before I asked them.

“I—I don’t think I can do this,” I heard myself say, and I struggled for any rational explanation that would make sense to Clark or Lilith. Wes was looking at me in confusion, and I felt Clark’s eyes on me as I stood and managed to come up with, “I think someone who didn’t know your family and your dad is probably better at—”

“I’ve got it,” Clark interrupted, lowering his camera and coming over to my side. “Why don’t you take off, Liz, and I’ll finish? We can connect afterward.”

I glanced at Wes and had no idea what he was thinking, or what Clark was doing. I only knew that I couldn’t do this. I managed to say, “Um, okay…?”

“Yeah, just go,” Clark said, smiling as if this was normal. “And the three of us can coordinate the rest later.”

“Um, okay. Thanks.” I turned and walked over to the door, and as I pulled it open, Clark asked the next question as if there hadn’t been the world’s biggest hiccup.

“What made you understand that it wasn’t the right time to be playing? How did you decide to pack up and leave?”

I didn’t know if Wes would answer him at first, but when I looked back over my shoulder, he swallowed and looked at Clark. For the first time since the interview began, he was speaking to someone when he said, “When my mom left and wouldn’t come home.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“No matter what happens to us, every day with you is the best day of my life.”

—The Notebook

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