Page 77 of Better Than the Movies
“Yes, I’m good enough, Liz.” He coughed out a laugh. “Well, I hope.”
“I don’t mean that as a slam, by the way. I’ve just never gone to a game. What are you, like a hitter or something?”
“Okay—we are not talking baseball until you’ve actually watched a game. That was pathetic.”
“I know.” I brought my legs up to the chair and wrapped my arms around them. “So, do you think you’ll go away to school or stay local?”
“Away.” He looked into the fire, and the shadows from the flames danced on his face. “I’ve already had offers from schools in Florida, Texas, Cali, and South Carolina, so why would I want to stay in Nebraska?”
“Wow.” How goodwashe? And even thoughIwas planning on going away, why did the thought of Wes not being here—forever in the house next door—cause a tiny little heart pain? I studied the fire and asked him, “Doesn’t UNL have a really good baseball team?”
“They do—I can’t believe you know that, by the way.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t look away from the fire. “I’m just ready to leave Nebraska behind. There’s really nothing here for me, y’know?”
“No, I don’t know.” I unwrapped my arms from my legs and put my feet back down on the ground, bothered by what he’d just said. “Ihateleaving it behind, but my dreams are all in California or New York.”
He looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Are you mad?”
“No.” Maybe? I rolled my eyes. “I mean, you do you. I just don’t understand—”
“Libby?” My head whipped around at the sound of my dad’s voice. There he was, standing in the clearing in his pajama pants andDINKER’S HAMBURGERST-shirt, looking at me as if I were break-dancing naked on top of the fire. “What in God’s name are you doing out here at eleven thirty on a school night?”
I thought back to Wes’s original sneaking-out text. “I came out to see the meteor shower, and then Wes yelled over the fence for me to come over.”
“Ooh—I forgot about the meteor shower.” He came over and sat on the empty chair between Wes and me, plopping down on the cushion before casually rubbing the top of his curly hair. “How is it?”
Wes and I looked at each other then, because neither of us hadreally remembered the shower once we’d gotten out there. I said, “It’s just great.”
“Hand me a mallow, will you, sweetie? I haven’t had a s’more in years.”
Wednesday dragged by, mostly because I spent all day obsessed with two things. First, I was still bothered by Wes’s comment the night before.There’s really nothing here for me.Why would he say that? Did he really feel that way? I still didn’t know thatmuchabout his whole, big life, but for some reason that hurt my feelings.
Maybe it was because I’d been having fun getting to know him, and I’d thought he felt the same way.
But when I forced myself to stop dwelling on that, I got super excited about the night to come. As I listened to Mr. Cooney drone on in trig, I decided I was going to wear the green top I’d bought with Wes and straighten my hair. I’d actually told Joss about it—yay, tricky honesty—so I was able to get her opinion on my outfit.
While Mrs. Adams encouraged the class to explore our inner writers in Lit, I popped in my earbuds and explored my inner daydream. I put “Electric” by Alina Baraz and Khalid on repeat, the perfect song to accompany my imaginings of the evening.
Darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea
You got everything, you got what I need
Only, the song kept making me think of Wes instead of Michael, which frustrated the crap out of me. No matter how many times I started thinking about what the night would bring, my brain flipped it and I was thinking about dinner with Wes.
Because I’d never eaten an actual meal with him. Well, not since our moms had given us both ham sandwiches at the Parkview Heights annual neighborhood picnic, but that didn’t count, just like our s’mores last night didn’t count either.
Did he eat a lot? Did he go all datey and pull out chairs for his female dinner partners?
It didn’t help that Joss thought I was excited about going out with Wes. All through lunch, I babbled about how I was going to do my makeup, and her collusion made it kind offeellike I was excited about going out with Wes.
My lack of sleep the night before was clearly making me confused.
As soon as the final bell rang, I nearly ran to the car. My phone buzzed as I walked across the parking lot.
Wes: Okay—weird question.
Me: All questions from you are weird.
Wes: Ignoring that. Actually I have two questions. First—did I piss you off last night?
