Better Than the Movies (Better than the Movies, #1)

by Lynn Painter

How was I supposed to show him we were meant to go to prom and fall in love and live happily ever after when I didn’t ever see him?

I thought of the time in seventh grade when he’d given me six dollars to get me to stop crying.

He started laughing. Hard. I raised my eyes to his face, and I couldn’t stop myself from joining, because he had one of those laughs. Happy and mischievous and full-on little boy; it was contagious.

“Need me to fetch you anything?” Fetch. Aw.

I didn’t mind being looked at like that by him.

“What is wrong with you?” He shrugged. “I’m funny?”

I attempted to give him a playful punch, but he caught my fist in his huge hand. He grinned at the little noise I made and let go.

Wes was the one walking me to the hospital, and it was Wes’s shirt that’d staunched the flow of blood from my face. Wasn’t it supposed to be Michael?

Wes: Make sure you add “Someone Like You” to the Wes and Liz playlist.

I cleared my throat and frowned, just to make sure I wasn’t creepily grinning into space.

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

“Diet Coke, right?”

“And I think I regret all of it. I miss your clothes and curly hair. You look best when you’re you.”

“Bennett, no one is totally flawless—come on.” I couldn’t believe his nerve. “She’s pretty dang close, though.” “I suppose.” “You suppose? What on earth could she possibly be lacking? Do you want bigger boobs or something? Is she not—” “She’s not you.” “What?” “She. Isn’t. You.”