Page 99 of Nothing Like the Movies

“Us?” I said, and then I wondered.

Is he fake–breaking up with me?

“Clark,” I bit out, looking toward my friends, who’d stopped by the door and appeared to be watching us. “Can we talk about this in the car?”

“No,” he said, driving his hands into his hair and dramatically exclaiming, “because I can’t take another minute of this. I can’t, Lizard.”

Dear God, hewas.

But why? Why would he be doing this without talking to me first, and in front of my friends?

“Of, um, what?” I said, unsure if I was supposed to play along or what I should do. I’d never had a fake boyfriend dump me before, so this was new territory.

“Of feelingnothingfrom you,” he said, putting his hands over his heart. “You looked at yourpizzawith more emotion than you look at me.”

“Dude, chill,” I heard Noah say, sounding annoyed.

“Oh my God,” Sarah said, and I could see her covering her face in my peripheral vision.

And just like that I was irritated.Whywouldn’t he talk to me first? My face was on fire, and I said the only thing I could think of. “I had the penne ragu with meatballs.”

Charlie snorted.

“When was the last time you felt anything at all, Liz?” Clark asked melodramatically, and his eyes were twinkling. It was Clark Clarking, fully committed, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or throat punch him.

I grabbed his tree-trunk arm and tried moving him. “Can we at least go around the corner and discuss this, where we aren’t on a busy street?”

“No,” he said with flourish, throwing my hand from his arm like a tantruming toddler. “I’m done—”

“Whoa,” Wes said, stepping toward Clark. His face was normal, but his voice was tense when he said, “No need to manhandle her, Waters.”

“He’s not,” I said, watching him watch Clark, wondering what he was thinking while looking so intense.

“Yeah, I’m not,” Clark repeated. “I’m just ending things while we’re still friends.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” I said drily.

“Dude, ever heard of privacy?” Charlie muttered.

“Joss, um, will you order me a chocolate malt?” I said, needing to end this spectacle. “We’ll be inside in just a sec.”

“Yes, I will.” She understood and said to the group, “Let’s go order, guys.”

Everyone followed—thank God—and as soon as the door closed behind them, I whirled on him. “What the hell, Clark? Why wouldn’t you tell me before you took it upon yourself to fake-dump me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but it justhappened, Liz. I was already feeling guilty about Wes, you know that, and then I rode with his sister and mom to the restaurant, and after listening to them, I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Well, you could’ve given me a little warning—”

“Liz.” He grabbed my upper arms and squeezed, looking more intense than Clarkeverlooked. He didn’t reallydointensity. “There are things you need to know. Things I ampositiveyou’re unaware of.”

“About Wes?” I asked. He obviously thought this was important, but I was already on Wes-overload after last night. I couldn’thandlemore Wes information.

“Yes,”he said. “Sarah said—”

“I don’t care,” I interrupted. “There is nothing I need to know—”

He cut me off by putting his hand over my mouth and giving me stern dad eyes. “Yes. There. Is. Can you please shut up for ten seconds so I can speak?”

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