Page 57 of Better Than the Movies
I sighed. “Got it.”
File that under Another Thing Liz Was Avoiding. I was dying to go away to school and get started at UCLA. I was even looking forward to the actual studies. Classes on music curation wouldn’t seem like work, would they? But every time I thought oflivingthere, I got this huge ball of dread in my stomach that had nothing to do with California and everything to do with leaving the only place I’d ever lived with my mother.
And the few times I’d allowed myself to consider the reality that I would no longer be able to just toss on my running shoes and see her at the cemetery, my vision instantly blurred with tears and my throat felt like it was closing.
So, yeah. I had some issues to resolve there.
He gave me a dad look. “Quit procrastinating. The early bird gets the better dorm room, Little Liz.”
“Hey. Speaking of that.” I put the pod into the machine and closed the top. “Was I a nice little weirdo when I was a kid?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Come again?”
I hit the button, and the Keurig started whirring. “Wes said that back in the day, I was anice little weirdo, and I just don’t remember it that way. Is he right?”
My dad’s face split into a wide smile. “You don’t remember it that way?”
“Not at all.” I stared at the coffee as it spat into my cup. “Imean, I maybe wasn’t supercool, but—”
“You were definitely a strange little kid.”
“What?”I looked at his grin and was torn between laughing and being annoyed. “I was not.”
“You made our deck into a wedding chapel when you were seven—remember that? You spentdayssetting it up with stolen flowers from your mom’s garden and white sheets. You tied a string of empty corn cans to Fitz’s collar.”
“So? That’s some impressive creativity right there.”
He gave a little laugh as I joined him at the table. “That’s right—that part was cute. The part that was weird was when you talked that kid who used to live on the corner—Conner something—into pretending to marry you. He let you boss him around until you told him that it was legal and he was married to you forever. Then he tried going home, but you tackled him to the ground and said he couldn’t leave until he carried you over the ‘tressel.’?”
“A reasonable expectation from a bride.”
“He cried until we finally heard his wails through the screen door, Liz.”
I blew on my coffee. “I’m still waiting for the weird part.”
“You broke your black oval glasses in the scuffle and you still wouldn’t let him up.”
“He should’ve stayed put like a good husband.”
He started laughing and so did I. So maybe Ihadbeen a little weird.
“Excuse me—do you work here?”
I rolled my eyes as I tried to finish shifting the bottom row of middle-grade fiction to the next shelf over. I’d made it through a full morning ofWhat happened to your nose?at the cash register, so I’d switched to stocking new releases in hopes of avoiding further human contact.
I stood from my squat and turned around.
And almost swallowed my tongue when I saw Michael. “Oh my God—hey.”
“Hey, Liz.” His face jumped into a big grin. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Yeah.” Isowanted to cover my hideous nose and maybe disappear. He’d been the instigator of our text conversation last night, but I felt weird about how awkward it’d been.
“I’m impressed.” His hands slid into his pockets and he said, “Two jobsandschool?”
“What?”
“I can’t believe you wait tablesandwork here, when I don’t even haveonejob at the moment.”
