Nothing Like the Movies

Liz

I drank my malt and hung out with my friends after that, but it wasn’t the same. I felt emotionally drained and didn’t know what to do with all the thoughts that were going on in my head. I could tell everyone wanted to know what’d just happened, but I didn’t want to talk about it.

I mean, how could I talk about it when I couldn’t even make sense of it?

When I took Clark back to his hotel, he tried mentioning the video but I wouldn’t let him. Which was ironic in that when I tried going to sleep, that video was on repeat in my head. I lay there in my childhood bedroom, the same room where I experienced so many emotions regarding Wes over the years, and I heard his words over and over again.

I didn’t cheat on you, Lib.

I don’t know why, but sometime around midnight, I was compelled to go sit in the Secret Area with my wouldn’t-be-silenced thoughts. I knew it didn’t belong to the Bennetts anymore, but I also knew the new people hadn’t moved in yet, so I wasn’t going to get arrested for being back there.

I quietly slipped out the patio door and ran through the backyard, the way I’d done so many times to meet Wes the summer after my senior year, and I climbed over the fence.

But I wasn’t ready for what I saw.

Oh my God. “Overgrown” didn’t even begin to describe it. It was impossible to believe it was the same place, to be honest. It was like it’d reverted to its former self, the wild place that lent itself to epic games of hide-and-seek. It was so overgrown that it took me a minute to even find where the firepit was.

Where the space used to be an oasis, it was now just a crooked firepit with a lawn chair sitting beside it. The fountain, the flowers—they were long forgotten. I wasn’t sure if they’d been removed or just swallowed by nature. I reached down and grabbed an empty bottle of Corona off the ground, wondering if that was what Wes had been drinking last night.

God, was that really only last night? The universe had shifted since then.

There was a big piece of wood in the firepit, and I pulled the matches and lighter fluid I’d snagged from the kitchen out of my pocket. I lit a tiny fire, for some reason needing the ceremonial feeling of ritual as I soaked in the dark night.

Because I was feeling melancholy, I scrolled through Spotify until I found the OG playlist, the one from senior year. I hadn’t let myself get in my feels about Wes in a long time, but there was no avoiding it that night. I turned on Adele and leaned my head back, looking up at the sky.

The night was clear, the stars were bright, and I was utterly lost.

“Hey, kiddo.”

I looked up and my dad was climbing over the fence in his stupid banana pajama pants and LUKE’S DINER T-shirt. I don’t know why, but seeing him and hearing his voice made my eyes get a little misty.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, coming over and dropping to the ground beside me. “We could tell when you got home that you were upset, but we decided to leave you alone.”

“What changed?” I asked, amused by the wonderful way my dad was always the same.

“When I heard you sneak out the back door, I figured you needed to talk to someone. I thought I’d volunteer as tribute. So what happened with Wes?”

“How do you know this is about Wes?” I asked, sniffling.

He just said, “It’s always about Wes, honey.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” I said, shaking my head.

“Just start at the beginning,” he said, leaning back on his arms. “I don’t have any plans.”

“Okay,” I said, and I just took off. I told him everything, then rambled to him about the way it was impossible for me to reconcile my feelings. I’d had two massive revelations that night, and each brought out opposing feelings.

Every time I thought about poor Wes and what he’d gone through, my heart was broken for him. I was so sad for everything he’d lost and equally sad that he hadn’t been able to tell me. I felt like somehow I failed him, that obviously there was some reason he hadn’t been able to open up to me.

“But as soon as I think that, I get so frustrated over what we lost because we didn’t have to lose it, right? It’s probably unfair to be mad at him for doing something he considered selfless, that he thought he was doing for me, but it was just such a waste. It didn’t have to end. Instead of trusting me, he made the executive decision that I couldn’t be trusted, and he walked away.”

And the lie about Ashley pissed me off. I didn’t feel guilty about being mad at him for that. Because it just felt so childish, so arrogant, that he thought I would never get over him unless I thought he cheated.

“So did he apologize?” my dad asked, lifting his hands to warm them by the fire.

“No,” I said. “Or, he might’ve said it during the fight, but it wasn’t an apology-apology.”

Had he? I really didn’t think so.

“Did you tell him you were going to get back to him about this or something?” he asked.

“No, I yelled at him and left.”

That made him smile a little, but he said, “So then who cares? Who cares about your conflicted feelings? It’s okay for them to not make sense, and it’s okay to be sad about him and pissed off at him, all at the same time.”

He grabbed a stick and tossed it into the firepit. “It’s fine to have no idea what you think about any of it—don’t you see? You can say ‘I don’t know how I feel about him’ and then just let it go. If you don’t have to get back to him with an answer on something, like, he’s not asking you out or proposing marriage, just be confused. You don’t have to figure this one out.”

“Oh my God, are you right?” I asked, shocked that his words were somehow making a lot of sense.

“I have my moments,” he teased.

Could I really just shrug and not come to a conclusion on my Wes Bennett feelings?

My dad hung out with me for a few more minutes after that, but then I think he sensed I needed to be alone, and he went inside.

Which left me to stare into the fire and picture Wes’s face when he’d said, There was never anyone else for me but you.

Cue “Anyone Else” by Joshua Bassett.

He’d looked so… old-school Wes.

The Wes of before, the Wes who’d been my everything.

I was still in shock that he hadn’t stopped loving me and he hadn’t cheated on me.

I just… I couldn’t believe it.

I knew—now—what he’d been going through at the time, so technically I understood his motivations. And if I were watching this plot in a Netflix movie, I’d probably be yelling at my TV, He did it because he loved you!

But it wasn’t a Netflix movie, and I just couldn’t get past the fact that he’d completely shut down. Not once during our endless text conversations and daily multiple calls did he mention his concerns.

He told me about work and his sister and his dog, and he told me he loved me, but he’d never said he was worried about anything. At all. I’d thought everything was perfectly fine until he dumped me out of the blue. It’s just not meant to be for us anymore.

But even then, as I bawled my eyes out, I hadn’t been mad.

He’d lost his dad and his entire world had changed—of course our relationship wasn’t his priority. I’d been devastated, yes, and surprised by how cold he’d sounded, but in my heart, I’d known it wasn’t permanent.

Eventually, we’d find our way back to each other again.

I’d been certain of it.

Silly little love lover.

And then I learned he’d been cheating on me with Ashley. I’d hated him for that for so long that it felt like it was part of me now. My name’s Liz, I have red hair, and I hate Wes Bennett.

So now I was supposed to not only be done with hating him, but accept the fact that he’d treated me that way to save me from myself? On paper it sounded possible, but I wasn’t sure that it was.

Because it hurt my feelings, if I was being honest, that he hadn’t been able to talk to me. That he’d been going through hell on the down-low. Had he faked our every exchange after he went home, then? When we were laughing together on FaceTime and talking about how we couldn’t wait until I came home for Christmas, was it all an act on his part? Like a put-on-a-brave-face-so-the-kids-won’t-know type of situation?

It also stung that he obviously saw me as someone who’d just abandon all her goals and aspirations in the name of love. I’d always assumed he saw me as strong, as someone with a little drive, but apparently he saw me as a wide-eyed, lovesick girl who’d blindly follow him around for the rest of my life unless I was stopped.

And man, had he stopped me.

I was still driving myself crazy with this emotional loop when I finally went to sleep, but I felt better about everything in the morning, thank God.

My dad’s simple statement changed my entire outlook, because he was right.

I didn’t have to understand my feelings about Wes.

Technically, they didn’t even matter.

We weren’t dating, we weren’t really even friends, so it was okay to be conflicted. There was no one waiting for me to pass down my final decision, to render my judgment on Wes Bennett’s sins. It was okay for me to ache for what he went through, and it was okay for me to want to punch him for giving up on us.

Really, my dad was right.

Nobody cares.

Helena went on a Krispy Kreme run while I showered, so I got to wolf down a couple of donuts before we left for the airport. We picked up Clark and Lilith on the way, and when I hugged my dad goodbye in the departure drop-off lane, he solidified my okayness by repeating his sentiment but in a different font.

“Remember—you don’t have to overanalyze the past. Just live your now life.”

“I love you,” I said, squeezing him while wishing we could’ve stayed longer.

“Love you, too, kiddo,” he said.

“You’re coming home for Christmas, you little snot,” Helena said with a smile (while she cried). “So don’t even try to get out of it.”

“I won’t,” I said, wrapping her in a hug while knowing I’d never want to stay away again.

Clark tried bringing up Wes on the plane, but he was cool when I told him I didn’t want to talk about it. All my roommates seemed to respect my need for privacy on this after I got back, which was surprising when they were usually all over my business. I was able to spend the rest of the weekend getting caught up on my studies, and it was wonderful.

But on Sunday, as I sat at a table on the Kerckhoff patio, trying my damnedest to study for my copyright law exam, Wes was back on my mind. It was a gorgeous day, the trees giving me the perfect amount of shade as the patio buzzed with students, and I should’ve been having one of those top-ten-studying-on-campus kinds of days.

It was like a damn postcard for fall semester out there.

But I wasn’t seeing any of it, not really, because Wes kept popping into my head.

There was never anyone else for me but you.

“I thought you were studying.” Campbell sat down with a coffee and said, “It looks like you’re just staring into space with your mouth wide open.”

“What?” I blinked, slow on the uptake. “Oh, no. I was just thinking.”

“Hey, has Wade asked you for my number yet?”

She was actually kind of interested in the mildly obnoxious first baseman, but she refused to engage until he took the time to get her number from me and actually call for a date. She said she didn’t have time for boys who only chase me at parties where they think they might score, and so far, she was making the right call.

Because he never asked me about her when he was sober.

“Nope,” I said. “I saw him at practice earlier, but he was busy. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said, taking out her laptop and acting like she didn’t care, even though I knew she was disappointed. For someone who was beautiful and smart and ridiculously talented on a soccer field, she was shy when it came to guys. “I’m pretty sure he’s an asshole, anyway.”

My phone buzzed, and when I picked it up off the table, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was Wes.

Wes: Hi.

I stared at the message, my brain misfiring and shooting screaming fireworks out my ears as I struggled to figure out what to even say. How did he expect me to respond to his stupid “hi” message?

I mean, what even was that? Hi?? Like we were pals and he would just text me “hi” whenever he wanted to?

Hi????

Another buzz.

Wes: Obviously you don’t know how to respond, and that’s fine.

Wes: I just wanted to say hi because you’re on my mind.

Wes: Have a great day. Also—I just listened to “You Could Start a Cult” by Lizzy and Niall, and if you haven’t heard it, seems like a Buxbaum song.

And he dropped a link.

Damn him. How could he possibly know?

I gritted my teeth and texted: A little too sweet for my tastes but thx.

But because it was Wes, my message stopped nothing.

Wes: It’s a gorgeous song, are you kidding me right now?

I replied: I didn’t say it isn’t a good song, I said it’s not for me.

Wes: Liar.

I absolutely was lying. But it irked me, the way he acted like he knew what I liked when there was no way that he could.

Alexa, play “Hate That You Know Me” by Bleachers.

I texted: I’m kind of busy right now. Did you need something…?

The phone buzzed almost immediately, and when I looked down, butterflies went wild in my stomach.

Wes: Oh, honey, you have no idea.

My head was about to explode as I read it, then read it again, wondering why it was so hot in there and then realizing I was outside.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to respond.

Because he added: But for now, I’ll leave you alone. Later, Lib.