Page 42 of Better Than the Movies
My head whipped to the left, and just past Wes’s face I could see Laney through the window, exiting a big, white colonial-style home. She skipped down the steps in her dance outfit, a sparkly black leotard that would have illuminated my flaws but was coming up empty on hers, and I felt queasy as I watched her pull open the van’s sliding door.
So that’s why there was an open seat.
My moment with Michael and the happy memories of my mom disappeared as Laney stepped into the van and pulled the door shut behind her. Had Michael invited her? Did he want me to move so she could sit in my spot? Was she, like, his date? And I was Wes’s?
“Thank you so much for coming back for me.” She sat down in the seat in front of Michael, and her subtle perfume wafted back to where I was sitting, an olfactory reminder that she was amazing down to the smallest detail. She glanced back at us and said to me, “Oh, hey, Liz—I didn’t know you were coming. I would’ve assumed you didn’t like sports.”
I forced a smile, but it didn’t feel like my lips were fully extended as I seethed inside. Of course she was right, but why would she assume that about me?Because I didn’t wear a silly letter jacket? And I was pretty sure it was no accident that she was pointing it out in front of Michael. I tried to sound breezy for the second time that night when I said, “Yet here I am.”
Anddammit—she’d made me forget to look and see what Michael’s house looked like.
She faced forward and said to the guys in front, “Well, there was no way I was going to be ready by the time Michael left, but in my defense, he didn’t have to put on stage makeup and squeeze into a costume either.”
Everyone laughed—of course—as Laney launched into a cute diatribe about what it took to getdance-ready.
“I had no idea she was coming,” Wes said, surprising me. His mouth was so close to my ear that I literally shivered. “I swear.”
Whatever Wes said about the Forever Spot, in that moment I couldn’t help but think that he was also helping me out because he was genuinely nice. Joss’s words echoed in my head.Everyone loves Wes.
I was starting to see why.
I leaned closer to him so he could hear me when I murmured, “You were right about the whole thunder-stealing thing, though. I am actually invisible now.”
He gave me aNo-you’re-notlook, but I wasn’t even going to try to convince myself otherwise. Laney had turned around in her seat and was giving the play-by-play directly to Michael, and a lightlysick feeling settled in my stomach. How was this fair? The girl was wearing heavy makeup, a bedazzled catsuit, and a ridiculously huge bow smack-dab on the top of her head. She should’ve looked like Queen of the Clowns.
But she lookedcute.
And the worst part was that she was unbelievably charming. She somehow managed to bury her rancid soul and totally pull off that she was a genuinely delightful human being.
It was witchcraft, that.
There was no way to compete with a one-woman perfection show, so I gave up and got out my phone to read. I’d started a really good book that morning, so I picked up where I’d left off and tried getting lost in the joy of Helen Hoang.
Joss texted me a minute later.
Joss: Hey. Did you go to Ryno’s party?
Shit. My stomach sank as I typed: Wes invited me at the last minute, and it was a total nightmare. I was going to tell you about it earlier but Helena interrupted.
Joss: WTH? I always invite you to my stuff.
Me: I thought about it, but you said Ryno’s parties were immature bullshit, so I knew you wouldn’t want to go.
Joss: I just think it’s weird that you wouldn’t tell me you were going. You’re sketch all of a sudden.
I glanced up from my phone, searching for excuses, but all I got was the impression that Laney was brainwashing all of the boys into joining her cult of adorability. Nothing to save me from the fact that I was being a crappy friend.
Me: I was just trying to rescue you from a wholly terrible time.
Joss: Whatever. I gotta go to work now.
I sighed, telling myself I’d make it up to her somehow, and went back to reading. But I’d only read about three paragraphs when Wes said, “Mind if I read over your shoulder? I’m bored.”
I gave him side-eye. “You wouldn’t like this. Trust me.”
“Will you shut up so I can read?”
My mouth wanted to smile but I cleared my throat and said, “Sorry.”
