Page 35 of Better Than the Movies
“I did what I had to. All is fair in love and parking.”
When he pulled up in front of the bookstore so I could get my car, I thanked him and grabbed my bags. He said he was going to text Michael and mention I was coming, and he also said he would throw in some good words about me. I wanted to help him craft the perfect adjectives, but I bit my tongue. I stepped out of his car, and just when I was about to slam the door, he said, “You should maybe straighten your hair for tonight.”
“I’m sorry—it sounded like you just told me how I should wear my hair.” I knew that he was trying to help me win Michael, but did he realize that it made me feel like total shit when he acted like my style was a joke? I was 100 percent good with my fashionchoices—I dressed for me and me only—but it still didn’t feel good to know that he didn’t like the way I looked.
My hair was in a braid at that moment, and though it wasn’t particularly cool, it also wasn’t like I had hair down to my ankles that had never seen a brush, either. “Since that can’t be right, what did you actually say?”
He held up a hand. “That came out wrong. All I meant was that instead of just changing up your clothes, you should give Michael the full-on hot-girl treatment. He still thinks of you as Little Liz, but if you show up looking like the kind of girl he’s dated since moving away, it might be a good start.”
I still didn’t like it, but he had a point. “So what’s the plan for later?”
“I’ll pick you up at fiveish.”
“Okay.”
“Wear the Chucks.”
“You’re not the boss of me.” I said it with a teasing childish pout, but I was still confused as to why he’d bought me the shoes. Everything else that he’d hand-selected for my “new Liz” wardrobe, I’d paid for. So why had he gone to the trouble of paying for them while I’d been changing? Why had he paid for them at all?
He put his big hands together as if praying. “Can youpretty pleasewear the Chucks?”
“We’ll see.”
CHAPTER SIX
“When I’m around you, I kind of feel like I’m on drugs. Not that I do drugs. Unless you do drugs, in which case, I do them all the time. All of them.”
—Scott Pilgrim vs. the World
At four forty-five, I tied my Chucks—which, I had to admit, looked pretty cute with my whole sporty ensemble—and went downstairs. They were comfortable, and something about them made me kind of soft, but I wasn’t going to waste a minute trying to figure that out.
My dad had taken my grandpa to the driving range, so it was quiet in the house. Helena was around somewhere, but I wasn’t sure where.
The doorbell rang, and I couldn’t believe it. Wes was early?
I walked over to the door, but when I pulled it open, it was Jocelyn, not Wes.
“Oh. Hey.” I’m sure my face totally showed my shock at seeing her instead of Wes, and I tried hard not to look shook. “What’re you doing here?”
Her mouth dropped open for a sec, and she looked me up and down. “Oh my God, who did this to you?”
I glanced down at my clothes. “Um—”
“I want to tongue-kiss them—you look incredible!”
She walked through the front door, and my mind was racing as I shut the door behind her. I still hadn’t told her about the party, or the game, or Michael or Wes or any of the questionable things I was doing with my personal life. And Wes was going to be there any minute now.
Shit.
“Did you buy this when you were with Wes?” She was still smiling, so she wasn’t pissed at me.
Yet.
“Yeah—that jag actually found a couple of nice things.” My cheeks were hot and I felt like the guilt was all over my face. I was a garbage friend. “Go figure.”
“Oh, hey, Joss.” Helena came out of the kitchen looking way cooler than me in jeans and a hockey jersey. “I thought I heard the door. Do you want a pop or something?”
God, Wes would be there any second with his big mouth.No pop!
