Nothing Like the Movies

Wes

“Knock, knock.”

I stood at Ross’s office door, clueless as to why he’d asked me to see him after practice. I’d thrown well and had been on top of my shit during PFPs, so unless he wanted to kiss my ass for being awesome (which Ross did not normally do), something was probably wrong.

“Bennett.” He was sitting behind his desk, looking annoyed. “Come in.”

I stepped inside, and when I did, I noticed the blonde.

She was probably in her early thirties, LA beautiful, wearing smart-girl glasses and shiny black high heels that you could see your reflection in. She was sitting in one of the chairs by his desk, smiling like she knew me, while Ross glared like he didn’t want to know her.

Interesting.

“What’s up?”

“This is Lilith Grossman,” he said, looking pissed about it. “She’s a film—”

“We’ve met, though not in person,” she interrupted, standing and coming over, holding out her hand. “You’ve been kind enough not to tell me to go to hell when I sensed you’ve wanted to.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand and giving in to a laugh because I liked her honesty. “And you’re welcome…?”

That made her laugh, and she said, “I’d like to talk to you for a second—”

“She’d like to pitch something to you, is what she means,” Ross said.

She gave a little shrug. “He’s actually not wrong for once. Do you have five minutes?”

Before the interview the other day, I would’ve said no. I would’ve treated her exactly the way Ross was treating her. But it hadn’t been too bad, and she’d sent a thank-you email afterward that was really sweet. Apparently she’d lost her dad when she was in high school, so she said a lot of things hit really close to home.

Add that to the fact that Liz worshipped her and Ross seemed to hate her, and she was definitely the most interesting person in the building.

“Sure,” I said, following her over to the chairs.

“Before she pressures you,” Ross said, “feel free to say no. I fully support your no on this.”

“Thank you for that, Ross,” she said with a smile.

“Anytime, Lil,” he drawled, and I was dying to know what was up with those two.

“Y’know, if you want to go throw some balls or guzzle protein powder, I can let you know when we’re done with your office,” she said, and her smile was deadly this time. “No need for you to stick around.”

“It’s okay. I’m happy to do it,” he said.

“Okay. Wes.” She turned her chair toward mine and scooted a little closer. “You gave such a fantastic interview the other day, giving us a peek into your inspirational journey back to UCLA. I was blown away by the picture you painted of your life back home, juxtaposed against your college baseball life here. I can almost picture it. So when I heard from Clark that you’re going home to help your mom close everything out, I had an idea.”

“Buckle up, Bennett,” Ross growled.

She rolled her eyes. “Now, I promise you I’m not trying to capitalize or throw a camera on your tragedy, but as a filmmaker, I know that getting some shots of the house that you grew up in—and the high school field where you pitched a no-hitter—could really add to the human side of your story. You repeating what you already told us, while walking through your empty house, would add such a lovely detail to the story.”

My stomach sank as I listened, not necessarily because of what she was trying to sell, but because she reminded me that it was almost time for me to walk through the house for the very last time.

“Now,” she continued, holding up a hand like she was expecting my immediate refusal. “I absolutely understand if you don’t want us there. Frankly, I’m expecting you to say no. But I would be remiss if I didn’t throw it out there, just on the off chance that you don’t mind having Liz get a little film while you’re in town.”

Liz.

“You want to send Liz?” I asked. “To Omaha?”

She nodded, and I wondered what that would look like.

Because even though I couldn’t imagine having her—and probably Clark—following me around while we moved out the last of my mom’s stuff, the idea of Liz being nearby while I said goodbye felt right somehow, or at least the thought of it did.

“Uh, can I think about it and get back to you?” I asked, wanting to talk to Sarah and figure out why I wasn’t totally opposed to the idea.

Because I should be, right?

“Of course,” Lilith said, and I didn’t miss the way she looked directly at Ross with a smug smile. “Just let me know as soon as possible so I can book flights if it’s a deal.”

“Sounds good.”

I left the building a little weirded out by the fact that I felt calm. It was surreal that this was happening, that Liz and Co. would be joining me in Omaha, but I felt pretty okay about it. Although to be fair, I was a Liz junkie, always looking for my next fix, and this scenario assured me that one would be coming soon.

I forced myself to go straight to the library because I had a paper to write, and I didn’t trust myself at home anymore. Lately, every time I went back to my dorm room, I ended up hooping with the guys instead of studying. It was great living right next to basketball courts, but not so great for my studying.

I slid into a spot at a table, flipping on the table lamp before pulling out my computer. I put on my headphones and got to work, but two things were messing with my concentration.

The first was the guy at the table across from me, who appeared to be attempting to completely gnaw off his fingernails. I didn’t know why he’d caught my eye, but I couldn’t stop checking every few minutes to see if he was still doing it.

Read a paragraph, then look over—yep, still chewing.

Write some sentences, then check to see—yep, still chewing.

Focus, Bennett.

But the other thing was Liz. Of course. She was all over my brain, stuck in multiple scenarios and places, and I couldn’t shake her. I was either thinking about the way she’d looked ready to cry during our interview, the way she’d run down the steps outside the library (in the dark) to avoid me the other night, or the idea of having her with me in my dad’s house.

By the time I got back to my dorm, I’d decided to give Lilith the green light. And when I talked to Sarah about it, she was all in. I suspected it was still her trying to get Liz and me together, but she also made a lot of sense. Since you’ve already given them the interview, what’s the big deal about letting them get a couple pictures at the house?

I punched in the code and opened the front door.

“Hey, we’re getting pizza.” Wade and AJ were each in front of their gaming setups, on opposite sides of the living room, playing The Show. Wade said, “Order it, bitch.”

“What if I don’t want pizza?” I did, I mean who didn’t want pizza, but my suitemates all had way more discretionary income than I did. Their parents loaded their debit cards with all kinds of fun-money, whereas I was holding tight to the money I’d worked my ass off to put into savings.

When it was gone, I was out.

“It’s free,” AJ said. “Brooks complained last time that he found a long hair in his cheese, so they gave him a coupon. It’s on the mini fridge.”

“You want to order from a place that has hairy pizza?” I asked Wade.

“I think it might’ve been mine, but I wasn’t sure.”

“You’re an idiot,” AJ said, laughing.

“I know,” Wade agreed. “Which is why I’m willing to give them another chance.”

“Big of you,” I said, dropping my backpack on the couch and grabbing the coupon from the front of the mini fridge. Free XL one-topper. “Pepperoni?”

“Nah—just cheese,” Wade said. “Their pepperoni tastes like fungus.”

“Because you know what fungus tastes like,” AJ muttered.

“Are you sure we should order from a place with hair and fungus problems?” I laughed, pulling out my phone because it was free. Of course we were going to order it.

Their attention was on the game until the pizza arrived, but as soon as the box was open, they were at the table and back to being aware of their surroundings.

“Why’d you have to stay after practice?” Wade asked, grabbing three pieces and dropping them onto a paper towel.

I didn’t really know what to say, so I just told the truth. “They want to send someone with a camera to Omaha this weekend to get pictures of my house and my high school field.”

“What the fuck?” Wade asked, looking offended. “How come no one wants to go to my hometown with a camera? I’m a better player than you, and I’m not from NebraskaHoma.”

“You are not better,” AJ said, shoving pizza into his mouth.

“Bullshit.” Wade made a face and said, “Well, I’m as good, at least.”

Wade was funny because he was obnoxious and cocky, only he wasn’t. He was all douchey attitude, and I would’ve hated him if that was truly who he was. But he was, in fact, a really decent guy who thought it was hilarious to behave like a jackass.

“Regardless of the fact that I’m better than you, it’s only because during my interview I talked about having to go home when my dad died, and then come back. So it’s just because they like the story—it has nothing to do with my game.”

The entire team knew my story, but no one had ever spoken about it; not with me. Everyone just pretended I was a freshman, the same as every other freshman, and I preferred it that way. I kind of suspected that one of the coaches made some sort of an announcement when I committed, because it was odd that no one brought it up, but I’d also never asked.

“Who are they sending?” AJ asked, getting up to grab a beer from the fridge. He had zero issues drinking during the week, but I liked to avoid hangovers when I had homework to do. “Is it gonna be Liz?”

“I think so; I’m not sure.”

“Of course it’s gonna be Liz.” Wade ripped off his crust, then rolled it into a ball. “She’s from there, so she’ll know all the spots. I wonder if she’ll bring Waters.”

“I still can’t believe they’re a thing,” AJ said, looking at me and shaking his head. “He’s a cool dude and I like him, but they seem more like brother and sister than a couple.”

“Yeah, that is weird.” Wade took a bite out of his crust ball like it was an apple. “Like, they’re always together, but they have always been always together.”

“You sound smart,” I muttered.

“Fuck right off—you know what I mean,” he said. “They don’t act any differently than they’ve ever acted together. Last year she told me he’s her ‘platonic soulmate,’ so now he’s more? Like, when he puts his arm around her, it looks no different than my dad putting his arm around my sister.”

“Can we not talk about this? I don’t give a shit about their relationship,” I said, sounding harsher than I’d meant to.

“Oh, it sounds to me like you really do.” Wade reached over and pulled off another crust and started rolling. “And I get it.”

“Same.” AJ nodded. “Like, she’s cute, but that’s not the thing. It’s the way she’s so damn chill, right? Dating someone that cool about everything would make everyone else seem like… too much.”

I took a bite of pizza, blown away that that was how they saw her. As a super chill cool girl.

And they weren’t wrong. That was exactly who she was now, but it was wild because she’d been chill about nothing back in the day.

I’d fucking loved it, how quickly she got riled up.

I’d loved it, yet my new obsession was the confident content producer with the quiet one-liners.

I was dying to get to know her better.

“I have to think that after dating Liz, you would forever care about her relationships.” Wade took a bite of his crust ball and said, “How the hell do you get over someone like her?”

Yeah, that was a loaded question. I grabbed a Gatorade out of the fridge and absolutely knew the answer.

You don’t was the answer.

You don’t get over her.