Page 110 of Better Than the Movies
I shrugged. “I think I’m feeling a little more Joe Fox and Kathleen Kelly tonight, but either one will do.”
They said goodbye and pulled away, but instead of going inside I sat down on the porch swing and stared over at Wes’s house. The light was on in the living room, making me think of our late-night telephone calls and watching for him out the window.
I missed him so much.
I’d spent most of my life wishing he wasn’t alwaysthere, aggravating me with his Wes-ness, yet now, everything felt empty when he was absent. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I went into our messages and typed Hey, you, but quickly deleted it because—of course—Wes wasn’t home yet. Normal people stayed until the end of prom. Normal people weren’t home at—I checked the clock on my phone—nine thirty.
Wes Bennett was probably being crowned prom king at that very second. He was probably about to dance with his beautiful date, and once he finished staring into her eyes, he’d forget aboutbaseball responsibilities and sweep her away for a fantastical night of firelight and kisses that curled her toes.
Even when I closed my eyes tight, I could still picture them kissing.
“Screw this.” I opened my eyes, stood, and fished my key out of my pocket.
It was time to go inside and gouge my eyes out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
—When Harry Met Sally
I lay on the couch like a lump, still wearing my prom dress but wrapped in a blanket. I’d just dropped onto the sofa when I came into the house and was mindlessly watchingYou’ve Got Mailin the dark while trying not to think about what was going on with Wes and Alex.
Kathleen Kelly was talking about Joni Mitchell’s “River,” and I was feeling every melancholy note of that masterpiece.
I’m selfish and I’m sad
Now I’ve gone and lost the best baby—
“Liz?” Helena stopped short of walking into the living room from the kitchen when she saw me, and put her hand on her chest. “Geez, you scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears, a tube of Pringles under her arm. “No worries. Why are you sitting in the dark?”
I shrugged. “Too lazy to turn on the light.”
“I see.” She cleared her throat and put her hands in the pocket of her hoodie, where I could see two cans of soda. “And prom?”
I waved a hand. “It was fine.”
She looked like she wanted to ask about it, but then she said, “Well, okay, then. I’ll leave you to your movie. G’night.”
I usually felt defensive when she asked about things in my life, but it felt emptynothaving her ask. I was embarrassed by the way I’d acted at the cemetery, and if I was honest with myself, I’d missed her today.
I didn’t deserve it, but I wanted her to stay up with me. I was a little scared to ask, afraid of a rejection that I wholeheartedly deserved, but when she was almost to the stairs, I blurted out, “Do you want to watch it with me?”
I heard her steps stop before she came back into the room. “Oh my God, yes. I love this movie. Praise Jesus for the saviors that are Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.”
“I thought you hated rom-coms.”
“I hate cheesy, unrealistic romantic movies. But bouquets of newly sharpened pencils?” She plopped down beside me and sat crisscross applesauce, pulling the top off the Pringles. “Be still my heart.”
We watched for a few more minutes before she said, “So prom.”
“Ah, prom.” I kicked my feet out onto the coffee table and snagged a chip. “Prom was like having your biggest mistake dressed up in pretty clothes and paraded in front of you with someone else.”
“English, please. I don’t get how that gibberish pertains to the pretty Mr. Michael.”
