Better Than the Movies

“Hey, it’s Mrs. Potato Head!”

I followed Wes through the kitchen door and smiled when I saw Adam standing at the center island, loading up a plate full of Pizza Rolls. I gave him a chin-nod and said, “It’s me.”

“Your face looks way better, by the way. You’re very un-potatoey now.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Noah felt like shit about breaking your face, so make sure you make him feel extra bad.” He picked up his plate and grabbed a can of Coke. “He deserves it.”

Wes and I went into the living room behind him, and it was clear we were the last ones there. The room was filled with mostly the same people from the basketball game, plus three others. Ashley, the girl who’d puked on me; Laney (ugh); and Alex, the one who liked Wes.

Talk about a nightmarish trifecta of people, right?

“Liz, I am so sorry about your nose.” Noah was sitting on the sofa between Alex and Ashley, and he pointed at my face. “It looks good now, though.”

That made me smile. “Thanks. And don’t worry about it.”

Adam said, “Come on, Potato Head—you had one job.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh, hey, Liz!” Laney, who was stretched out in the recliner, smiled over at us. “I didn’t know you guys were coming.”

My brain mocked her in a high-pitched, Muppet Babies kind of voice before I just said, “Yeah.”

“Hey, guys. Snacks are in the kitchen and the movie’s about to start.” Michael popped up from where he was lying on the floor and gave us a small wave.

“That’s good,” Wes said from behind me. “Because I think Liz’s probably getting hungry.”

“Haha.” I turned around, and his face did that thing to my stomach again, which pissed me off because he didn’t even think of me as his friend. “I eat a lot; you’re hilarious.”

“I know.”

There wasn’t a way for me to remove myself from Wes without causing weirdness, so we sat together on the floor, and everyone got quiet as the movie started. It was this really intense thriller, and everyone was silent so they wouldn’t miss out on anything important. But I couldn’t concentrate on the movie because I was trying to figure out why Wes was making me irrationally emotional.

I also couldn’t concentrate because my thigh was touching Wes’s thigh.

We both had our legs stretched out in front of us as we leaned back on our palms; nothing was intimate about our position. But it’s like the spot where my right outer thigh touched his left outer thigh was inflamed and I couldn’t ignore it. Every tiny molecule of my existence was focused on that one solitary spot.

Was it warm in that house?

My eyes watched as a man on the television was murdered by a serial killer who jammed the man’s head into the propeller of a boat motor, but my mind was on Wes. Wes and the fact that if he and I were reclined a little more, like, resting back on our elbows, all he’d have to do was lean his body a little in my direction, so he was hovering over me, and we’d be perfectly aligned for him to kiss me.

He’d look down at my lips with those dark eyes and he would visibly swallow with that prominent Adam’s apple that for some reason always distracted me, and then—

“Buxbaum.”

“Huh?” I turned my head to the right and looked at him, a tiny bit gaspy and feeling like I’d been woken from a dream. What the hell was I doing?

My face was hot as he leaned a little closer, to where his shoulder nudged mine. He gave me a squinty-eyed smirk and whispered, “I’m a little uncomfortable with the level of attention you just gave to that slashing. I don’t think you blinked.”

I blinked then, my cheeks getting even hotter—if that was possible—as he whispered to me in the dark. My mouth curled up into a smile that I had no control over, and I whispered back, “Quit watching me, creeper.”

And then the moment just stopped.

Paused.

Held.

His smirk disappeared and his face turned intense. His jaw flexed and I could hardly breathe as I looked back at him, my heart pounding as I let myself be obvious and look at his mouth for the quickest of seconds.

His mouth that was just so incredibly close to mine.

When I brought my eyes back to his, I knew without a doubt that if we were anywhere else—alone—he would kiss me. He swallowed, and my eyes tracked down to his throat before slowly climbing back up by way of his strong chin, nose, and dark-as-night brown eyes.

He raised one eyebrow, an unspoken question, and I realized at that moment that I wanted it. I wanted Wes. Michael had been my endgame, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about that anymore.

I wouldn’t run through a train station for Michael. But I would do it for Wes.

Holy shit.

I raised my right shoulder in a shrug that nudged his shoulder, a touch of my cotton against his fleece.

“Scoot over.” Noah plopped down beside me and said, “I’m going deaf sitting between those screamers.”

Nooo!

I sat up and moved a hair closer toward Wes, careful not to look at him as I shifted over. The moment had been broken, and part of me was disappointed that we’d been interrupted, while the other part was embarrassed and utterly clueless about whether what I thought had just happened had actually happened at all.

I stared blankly at the TV for what seemed like an eternity before I heard Wes whisper, “I’m going to get a drink. You want one?”

I took a deep breath—please don’t be mocking—and turned to face him. But instead of the smart-ass expression that was Wes’s default, he gave me a devastatingly hopeful smile as he waited for my response.

I swallowed and felt trembly as I smiled back at him. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

“Diet Coke, right?”

I nodded and had to concentrate on not sweating after he got up and left the room.

What in the actual the hell?

When I came back from the restroom, Wes still hadn’t returned to his spot on the floor. I glanced around the dark living room before noticing that he was out on the deck. At first, I couldn’t tell who he was talking to, but then I saw it was Alex.

Talk about a glass of cold water to the face.

He was out there with the pretty girl that he knew liked him, while I was feeling near-vomitous over the confusing things I was thinking about my next-door neighbor. Talk about a yawning chasm.

I gnawed on my lip and squinted, trying to see them better. He’d said he wasn’t interested in her, and I believed he’d meant it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t change, right? And what if I’d been misreading every little thing between Wes and me to begin with? My little fairy godfather might only be interested in finding love for me, not with me, right?

Had I completely imagined the moment on the floor?

I took my spot and watched the rest of the movie, but my attention was now on the two people I could see in my periphery. What were they talking about? Why were they out there? I totally lost focus and was happy when the movie ended and they came inside.

I needed to get my head straight.

The people around me started talking to each other, and I felt awkward and out of place. And I missed Jocelyn. We texted every day, like always, but I hadn’t spent any quality time with her lately. Being with all these people who were close friends with each other made me homesick for her; I needed to go over there after I got home.

In fact, it was probably time for me to come clean to her about the whole thing.

“Did you know that Michael’s father has a grand piano?” Wes looked down at me from where he’d perched his big self on the back of the sofa and held out a hand to help me up. “It’s upstairs in an acoustically designed room.”

I grabbed his hand and climbed to my feet, and oh sweet Lord, it felt like a Mr.-Darcy-hand-flex-from-the-best-version-of-Pride-&-Prejudice moment. The world stopped spinning for just a second when his big hand wrapped around mine.

But then, just as fast, the spinning returned, and I was face-to-face with Wes and all of my confusion. I looked at his face—and then at Michael, who I hadn’t even noticed until then—and realized they were waiting for a response from me.

To what, again? What was words? How was talk?

“Wow.” Dad. Piano. Room. Got it. “For real?”

“I think he’s convinced he could’ve been a classical pianist if he’d had that room at a younger age.” Michael crossed his arms and said, “He’s obsessed with it.”

“Our Little Liz plays piano.” Wes gave me a look and said to Michael, “She’s really good.”

I said, “No, I’m not—”

Just as Michael said to me, “Do you want to see it?”

I blinked. “I would love to.”

“Well, then, follow me, Miz Liz.”

Michael walked over to the stairs and I followed, but I almost tripped when I glanced behind me and saw that Wes wasn’t coming with us. He was laughing at something Adam was saying, so I took a deep breath and proceeded upstairs, overwhelmed by my thoughts as I climbed the steps.

Was this some sort of a signal? By literally handing me off to Michael, was that his figurative way of handing me off and walking away?

Gosh, it probably would’ve been funny if it were happening to someone else. Here was my beautiful Michael, inviting me—and not Laney—to see a dream-come-true music room, and I just wanted him to go away so I could be with Wes.

Was that okay? I was having trouble keeping up with myself.

How would my mother have written this part? Would she have seen the good in the “bad boy” and twisted the plot?

Dammit.

Stop thinking, Liz.

“Where are your parents?” I cleared my throat and shut down my inner thoughts. “I haven’t seen them in, like, a million years.”

“They went to a movie,” Michael said as he took the stairs two at a time. “But my mom would love to see you.”

When we reached the top of the stairs, he led me to a closed door that looked like it belonged to just another bedroom. He pushed it open, and…

“Oh my God.”

The room had a shiny wood floor, and a thick rug sat underneath the baby grand piano that was turned diagonally on one side of the space. He started telling me about reflection, diffusion, and absorption, about how the decorations in the room were strategically placed for better-quality sound, but I couldn’t listen to him.

That piano was so beautiful. I walked over and sat down on the bench. I wanted to play it—badly—but clearly this was a big deal to his dad, and I was a chump player. Wes liked to act like I was good because I was the only person our age who still took lessons once a week, but I was decent at best.

I loved the piano, though. I loved it so much. I was sure my mom’s obsession with the instrument had something to do with it, but there was also nothing quite like closing my eyes and just losing myself in a song I’d played a hundred times before, tweaking the tempo and passion and listening to see if I could hear the minute differences I’d attempted to create.

“You can play it, Liz,” Michael said, walking over to the door and closing it. “My dad had the room insulated so no one downstairs can hear you playing if the door’s closed.”

“It’s too nice—I can’t.” The black piano didn’t have a speck of dust on it. How was that possible? “And it’s your dad’s instrument—no one else should touch it.”

“He’s been fixing to play it but hasn’t since we moved here—go ahead.”

I pushed back the keyboard cover, cleared my throat, and said, “Prepare to be underwhelmed.”

Michael grinned. “Consider me prepared.”

I smiled and started playing the beginning of Adele’s “Someone Like You,” remembering Wes telling me to add it to our soundtrack after our phone conversation on the night when my nose got smashed.

Michael’s mouth turned up into a grin. “You have it memorized?”

“It’s really easy, actually.” I felt awkward as my fingers ran over the keys. “It’s mostly a four-chord loop. Anyone could play it.”

“Pretty sure I couldn’t.”

My eyes went up to his as he leaned against the piano, looking down at me. He was so handsome, with the same smile he’d first charmed me with in grade school, but I couldn’t stop wondering what Wes was doing downstairs. I was barely into the song when the door flew open and there was everyone… except Wes and Alex.

My hands jumped into my lap, and I felt like the world’s biggest dork. Wes’s friends looked at me, and I’m sure they thought I was a weirdo for playing piano when everyone else was hanging out.

And it was obvious they all hung out a lot, because the entire group just picked up where they’d left off downstairs, talking and laughing like they were best friends.

Laney came over and stood beside the piano, saying to me, “I can’t believe you can play like that.”

“I thought the room was soundproof.”

“It’s insulated.” Michael said it to both me and Laney. “You can’t hear it downstairs, but you can from the hallway.”

“Ah.” I felt silly, seated at that piano.

“Your Adele was awesome.”

“It’s a super easy song.” Like I need your compliments, Laney. “But thanks.”

“It was still great and I’m jealous.” Her eyes moved to Michael where he stood on my right, and her face kind of got prettier as she smiled at him. Maybe it was because my night had gone completely off course, but her expression made me feel a little bad for her. That look on her face, what it said? I could relate.

I told her, “I seriously could teach it to you in an hour. It’s so nothing.”

“Seriously?” She crossed her arms and gave me wide eyes. “You could?”

Wes finally appeared in the doorway, with Alex trailing right behind him, and he said, “We should order a pizza.”

“Ooh—I’m in,” Alex said, and I felt a tightness in my sternum as she smiled at Wes. He looked down at her and smiled right back. He was giving her his best smile, the one that was fun but also warm and happy, and I gritted my teeth as she flipped her hair and asked, “But from where?”

And then—Wes looked at me.

It was fleeting, barely even a glance, but his gaze met mine for a brief second and I felt it in my every nerve ending. What was he doing? Was he still trying to wingman me, after everything?

“Zio’s,” Noah said, and he and the others started following Wes and Alex out of the room and down the stairs. I stared at the empty doorway, unable to think about anything other than Wes and that scorching look and the unfortunate proximity of Alex.

You just ate, Wes—what are you even doing?

Alex was lovely, and I’d thought they’d be a good match when I’d initially heard of her feelings, but now I thought that she was a little too serious for him. I mean sure, she seemed fun enough, but compared to Wes’s total disregard for anything mature, she was a bit stoic.

Besides, Wes and I had had a moment downstairs, dammit.

Right? Or had I imagined it?

“You say the word ‘pizza’ and the room clears.”

I jumped when Michael spoke. I hadn’t even realized he was still there.

I smiled and casually stood. “Who doesn’t love pizza, right?

He gestured to the hallway. “Do you want to go get in on that?”

“Um, no, thanks.” I shook my head, not wanting to follow Wes, especially if he was canoodling with Alex. “Wes and I went to Stella’s before we got here and I’m still full.”

“That’s right—he told me you were getting dinner before you came.”

“Yeah.”

“He also told me that things were more friend-y with you two and he’s thinking about asking Alex out.”

I tried to look like I didn’t care. I smiled over the heavy feeling in my stomach and said, “Yeah, he’s right. He totally should—she seems great.”

“Yeah. Apparently he’s sick of being stuck in your friend zone so he’s moving on.”

“Finally.” I rubbed my lips together and focused on Michael’s blue eyes. This is what you wanted. Starting anything with Wes would be bad, bad news. Eyes on the prize, girl. “I didn’t want things to get weird, so this is really good.”

“Probably.”

“Um, when did he tell you that?” Days ago, please. “About Alex?”

“When we were in the kitchen.”

“Ah.” I looked at the piano keys and swallowed, and it felt like there was something stuck in my throat. I mean, it was exactly what we’d planned for Wes to say, so there was no reason for me to feel unsettled by this, right?

Michael’s phone made a noise, bringing me out of my daze. He looked down at the message, sighed, and then put his phone back in his pants pocket.

“Um—are you okay?” I asked, because his anxious face looked the same as it had back in grade school when he’d dropped his favorite Boggle game on the sidewalk and all the little letter pieces had bounced into the bushes. He’d always been the kind of person to stress about every little thing.

Except—dear Lord—I knew nothing about Michael now. At all. I knew he spoke with a Southern drawl and had good hair—that’s all. Sure, the Michael I knew in elementary school liked bugs and books and being kind, but what did I know about him today? I knew Wes a thousand times better than Michael, and I was kind of starting to adore that next-door neighbor of mine.

Shit.

What was I even doing in this room with Michael?

He fingered the sharp keys, staring at the piano. He pressed his index finger down on the middle C and said, “It’s this whole thing with Laney and prom.”

My body’s innate response to the name “Laney” was to jump for joy when it was said in a less-than-positive tone. But now I couldn’t muster up the emotion. I asked, “Are you guys going? I didn’t know. I mean, I heard you were talking. But, y’know…”

I trailed off, not wanting to seem like I knew all the gossip.

“Well, no. I mean, no, we’re not going yet.” He sighed yet again. “See, we have been talking, and Laney’s wonderful. But on the day I met her, her boyfriend had just broken up with her. Literally. I met her because she was outside crying.”

“Oh.” I had no idea who she’d dated, but it was kind of hard to believe that Laney Morgan got dumped.

“So I have no idea what’s going on in her head. I don’t want to move too fast if she isn’t ready, and I especially don’t want to start something if she’s still hung up on her ex.”

I felt a little bad for him because I could totally empathize. Wanting something but being unsure if you’re able to have it? Or if it’s safe to have? Yeah, I got that. And now that I knew how I actually felt, the new, enlightened, emotionally honest Liz wanted to help Michael with Laney, give him some kind of advice.

But at the same time, I wanted to leave this conversation and bolt downstairs to find Wes before Alex started wearing him like a shirt. I said, “Can’t you ask her to prom as a friend and see where it goes?”

“I could.” He played with the keys a little more. “But prom should mean something. Maybe it’s the Texas bigness I’m used to, but to me, it’s about the promposal and dinner and flowers and more. Is that silly?”

I snorted a laugh. “Oh my God, no—think about who you’re talking to here.”

He looked up and grinned.

“That’s right. Little Liz,” I said, and pointed to myself and rolled my eyes. “I feel the exact same way. I’m supposed to go with Joss, and I’m sure it’ll be fun, but I’m with you. That’s not how I’ve always daydreamed senior prom would be.”

I pictured Wes’s face, and my hands felt hot. I shook them out and said, “The more I think about it, the more I don’t want to settle. I want the possibility of more, even if it doesn’t work out. I want to take the chance for a magical night, because even if it flops, I can at least have a date with possibility instead of a friend.”

He tilted his head a little and smiled at me. “You might have a point, Liz.”

“I know I do.” I was getting worked up at the thought of going to prom with Wes. Someone needed to douse me with cold water, fast. Because suddenly it felt like it was all I’d ever wanted. “Trust me when I tell you that sometimes the person with the most ‘magical night possibility’ is the last person you’d expect. Sometimes there can be someone you’ve known forever, yet never really noticed.”

God, I wished I’d noticed sooner. My brain was spewing out little montages of Wes and me—in the Secret Area, at Stella’s, on the way home from the party…

How had I not noticed sooner?

“I think I know what you mean,” Michael said, staring at me intensely, and alarm bells started going off in my head. I wasn’t sure why he was looking at me like that, but now definitely wasn’t the time.

Adam popped his head in the doorway and said, “We need you guys. We’re doing team Cards Against Humanity.”

“Yes!” I shouted my response, thrilled to be interrupted.

Adam tilted his head and gave me a What’s-the-matter-with-you grin, and Michael was still eyeballing me. I cleared my throat and tried to recover, saying with a casual look, “I mean, count me in.”

“I’ve never played that on teams,” Michael said, giving me a weird look.

“Me either,” I agreed, anxious to find Wes.

“We’re only playing teams because Alex wants to pair up with Wes.” Adam gave me a look of commiseration, like we were of the same opinion, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “She says it’s more fun that way, but I’m pretty sure she just wants to share a chair with him.”

“Well, let’s do it.” Michael gave me a nice smile, but it did nothing for me. At all. It just reminded me that I needed to get down to that card game before Alex ended up with my happy ending.