by Lynn Painter
“Fifth.” I put the cap back on the lipstick. “And I can just tell.”
“Oh, you can tell.” He made a little noise that was the equivalent of him calling me a child. “For all you know, he’s spent the past few years torturing baby squirrels.”
“For all you know,” I said, flipping the visor back up and reaching out to turn on his radio, “he’s spent the last few years bottle-feeding orphaned baby squirrels.”
“Well, if you ask me, that is no less alarming.”
I rolled my eyes and turned the station, mildly irritated that he, too, thought I was ridiculous. They didn’t understand how fated his reappearance was, so I was just going to ignore their negativity.
I loved Jay-Z, but I was feeling myself in my jumper dress so I scanned away from rap until I found a station playing a super old Selena Gomez song. That earned me another disapproving noise before Wes switched it back to “PSA.”
“Hey—I liked that song.”
“You like a song about Selena Gomez thirsting over Justin Bieber?”
I looked over at his smirking face. “You are seriously disgusting.”
“You’re the one who likes that seriously disgusting song.”
If my mom had been right about the whole your-eyes-are-going-to-stay-that-way rule, spending time with Wes was going to leave me visually impaired for the rest of my life.
* * *
“You’re not going to knock?”
Wes stopped with his hand on the front doorknob and looked at me like I was from another planet. “Why would I?”
“Because it isn’t your house?”
“But it’s Ryan’s; I’ve been here a hundred times.” He pushed open the front door. “And we’re going to a party in the basement, not a wine tasting in the formal dining room. The butler doesn’t need to announce our arrival this time.”
“I know that, you jag.”
He grinned and gestured for me to go ahead of him.
I stepped inside the fancy foyer, with marble on the floor and a glass chandelier overhead, and it was quiet. Too quiet. My stomach was full of butterflies, and I kind of wanted to go home, despite knowing that Michael was likely already here.
“Relax, Libby.”
Wes was looking at me as if he knew how nervous I was, and the tone of his voice told me he was actually trying to make me feel better. That seemed like a stretch, though, when he was probably just thinking how hilarious it was that I was such a nerdy mouse.
“No one calls me ‘Libby.’ ” My mom had, but since she wasn’t there anymore, I couldn’t count her, right?
“Aw—then I have a perfect pet name for you already.”
“No. I hate it.” I hadn’t always, but I did now.
“Oh, you do not.” He nudged my arm with his elbow. “And you can call me ‘Wessy’ if you want.”
I couldn’t not laugh at that; he was so ridiculous. “I will not want to do that, like, ever.”
He walked over to a door and opened it, and noises came up from the bottom of the stairs. “Ready to party?”
Not at all. “Hey—don’t ditch me until I find Michael, okay?”
“Call me ‘Wessy,’ and I totally won’t.”
I snorted. “Fine. If you ditch me, Wessy, I will stab you with the keg tap.”
“My little Libby is such a savage.”
* * *
“Where is he?”
Wes gave me a look as we stood near the keg. “We’ve only been here ten minutes—chill. He’s here somewhere.”
I held the red SOLO cup between my hands and looked around. “Up All Night” by Mac Miller would be the perfect choice if a camera were to pan out and capture the energy of the party. Because there were a lot of people in that unfinished basement, yelling and laughing and guzzling warmish beer. A small group sat around a table in the corner playing Presidents and Assholes, which appeared to be a game involving cards, drinking, and sporadically yelling, “Ooh-wee baby!”
But I didn’t care about any of that. I only wanted to see Michael. I wanted my reunited-and-it-feels-so-good moment with him, our childhood-coming-full-circle moment, and everything else was just background noise.
“Maybe you should relax and try having fun.” Wes pulled his phone out of his front pocket, checked messages, then put it back. “You do know how to do that, don’t you?”
“Of course,” I said, taking a sip of the beer and trying not to look like I found it as disgusting as I actually did. But I really had no idea how to have fun at a party like that; he was right.
Wes fit in, though.
Since the minute we’d walked downstairs, his name had been shouted no less than ten times. Our entire high school class seemed to adore my annoying neighbor. Weird, right? What was even weirder was that so far, he hadn’t turned into the dude-bro I imagined him to be in a party situation.
He hadn’t left me by myself, hadn’t done a keg stand, and hadn’t discussed breasts and/or butts with his friends in front of me. I mean, he’d passed on beer and was drinking water because he had to drive, for God’s sake. Who was this guy? The guy I’d assumed him to be would’ve beer-bonged while driving.
Neighborhood friends were like that. You grew up with them, running over hot sidewalks and yelling to each other across fresh-cut lawns, but once you got older, you became acquaintances born of proximity with nothing but a surface level of basic knowledge. I knew he parked like an ass, played a ball sport—baseball maybe?—and was always laughing and loud when I saw him at school. I’m sure he knew even less about me.
“Wesley!” A pretty blond girl squealed and gave him a big hug. He looked at me over her shoulder as she very nearly jumped on him, and I rolled my eyes, which made him laugh. The blonde pulled back and said, “What took you so long? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I had to pick up Liz.” He gestured toward me, but she didn’t even turn around. The girl was standing, like, an inch away from him as she said, “You look really hot tonight.”
Was that how the upper echelon of my gender landed boyfriends at my school? If so, I’d never have a shot at Michael because I was a big fan of personal space. I actually felt a little sorry for Wes when he swallowed and took the tiniest step backward. He said, “Uh, thanks, Ash.”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you that.” She was kind of yelling over the noise, but Wes still looked uncomfortable, like they were alone in a dark room and the door was locked. “But what the hell, right?”
She didn’t move from deep within Wes’s space, so I tapped her on the shoulder. He was a childhood pal, I supposed, so it was probably my neighborly duty to save him at least once.
She turned around and smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I smiled and touched her arm. “Listen.”
I leaned over and put my mouth closer to her ear, and I wanted to giggle when I saw Wes’s eyebrow go up like a question mark. I said to her, “Don’t tell anyone, but Wes and I are kind of… y’know…”
“Together?” Her eyes narrowed in confusion and then she smiled. Nodded slowly. “I had no ide—I’m so sorry!”
“Shh.” The girl was loud. “No worries at all, we’re just keeping it quiet.”
“I mean, I was going after him hard-core.” She gestured to herself with both of her pointer fingers and laughed. “I did not mean to make a move on your man!”
I shook my head and wanted that time machine Helena had mentioned, as everything clicked into place. She—Ash—was Ashley Sparks. Oh my God. Not only was she loud, but she was super popular and a terrible gossip. Every person in this building would think Wes and I were together in probably about ten minutes. I shushed her and said, “Shh… no biggie. He isn’t my man yet, so—”
“He will be, girl.” She nudged me with her shoulder and grinned at Wes. “You go get it.”
“Oh my God.” I muttered, “Shh. Um, okay.”
She walked away and I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to look at him.
“Did you just te
ll her that—”
I opened my eyes. “Yep.”
He bent his knees so his face was level with mine, and his eyes were squinty when he said, “Why would you do that?”
I swallowed and looked down at my beer. “Well, I was trying to save you, um, from her amorous clutches.”
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. And really, it was ridiculous that I’d tried to save six and a half feet of Wes from the hot girl that clearly wanted to get with him. I had tears in my eyes by the time we got ourselves under control.
“Hey, y’all.” Michael came up beside Wes and said something about beer, but my heart started beating so fast that fainting became a distinct possibility and I didn’t hear anything he said. The noise of the party dimmed to a buzzing murmur as I squeezed my fingers around my red SOLO cup and drank him in. He was everything I remembered, but better. His smile was the same powerful weapon that made me feel both queasy and like I might spontaneously combust, all at the same time.
Wes and Michael kept talking, but I heard none of their words as I raised my cup to my lips, wishing so badly that I had headphones with me. Because “How Would You Feel” by Ed Sheeran definitely should’ve been playing while my eyes strolled over his thick hair, his pretty eyes, and those perfect teeth that were bared as he smiled at Wes.
Note to self: Create the Soundtrack of Michael and Liz after you get home.
“How have you been, Liz?” He turned his attention to me, and my insides melted all together when he smiled. “You look exactly the same. I would’ve recognized you anywhere.”
My voice wouldn’t work for a second and my face was on fire, but then I managed to breathe the word, “Same.”
“So where do you work?”
“What?”
He gestured to my dress. “Your uniform…?”
“Oh.” Oh no. He thought my adorable dress, the one that was supposed to make me stand out from the crowd to him, was a waitress uniform.
Kill me now.
I looked at Wes, and he gave me a Let’s-see-how-you’re-going-to-get-out-of-this look. I stammered, “My uniform. Yeah. Um, I, uh, pick up hours sometimes at the diner.”
“What diner?”
“The, uh, The Diner.”
Wes’s face opened into a huge grin. “I love The Diner.”
Sweat beads formed on the tip of my nose as I lied. “I barely ever work there.”
Michael tilted his head just a little. “Where exactly—”
“I wish you’d moved back into your old house, Young,” Wes interrupted. “Because we could totally re-up our last epic game of hide-and-seek.”
I made a mental note to thank Wes later for the subject change.
Michael grinned and took a drink from his red cup. “Can you imagine?”
“I prefer not to.” I smiled at him and ignored Wes’s chuckle. “When our hide-and-seek games turned ‘epic,’ that usually meant that Wes and the twins were terrorizing me.”
“How many times do you think I snuck over and warned you?” Michael’s eyes ran over my face like he was reconciling the old and the new. “I saved you from so many bugs and frogs down your shirt.”
Wes said, “The twins used to get so pissed when you helped her.”
Michael shrugged and turned his attention back to Wes. “I just couldn’t let you do that to Liz.”
Ed Sheeran was back in my head as I watched Michael laugh with Wes. The three of us tripped back a few years to our firefly childhood, and it felt so good.
How would you feel,
If I told you I loved you?
“Every time I see a cheesy movie on TV, I think of Little Liz.”
Only, when he said it, Michael managed to make the word “little” sound sexy. Lil, but he sounded like a sleepy rancher when he said it, as opposed to someone referencing the newest mumble rapper, Lil Liz.
He lifted his cup and finished the last of his beer. “Remember how she always watched Bridget Jones’s Diary and got so mad if we made fun of it?” They’d never known it was because that movie had been my mother’s favorite.
“Do we have to rehash the past?” I pushed my hair behind my ear and tried to direct them to a topic that would show Michael how interesting I was now. “I heard—”
“Can you get me a beer?” Ashley was back, holding her cup out to Michael and smiling at me like we were besties. “I’m bad with the keg and always end up with too much head.”
Ugh—she said it in that way. You know the one.
Michael smiled but didn’t sound flirty when he said, “Sure.”
He turned his back to us and grabbed the tap while she turned her attention to Wes. “Are you going to prom, Bennett?”
Wes looked at me and raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Dream on,” I muttered, making him chuckle as Ashley continued, oblivious to our exchange.
“A whole bunch of us are going as a group.” She was slurring pretty heavily now. I started to wonder if we should find her friends. “You two should come. We’re getting a limo and everything.”
I glanced at Michael, but he seemed to have missed the comment, thank God.
Wes leaned closer to her and said, “Ash, did we do a little pregaming before the party?”
Ash giggled and nodded. “At Benny’s—his mom was gone.”
“I see. How about some water?” Wes grabbed her a bottle from the cooler of ice by the keg and gave her a nice smile that I realized he’d never given to me. Not once. I only received mocking grins, sarcastic smirks, and eyebrow quirks from my neighbor. “Well, I do love me some limo, so I’ll have to think about prom.”
Michael turned around. “When is prom?”
Everything stopped for me as Wes took the beer Michael had poured for Ashley and set it aside. She didn’t even notice. Wes said, “In two weeks.”
It was total slo-mo. Innnn. Twwooooo. Weeeeeeks.
Michael said to Wes, “It’s so bizarre, switching schools two months before graduation. Senior prom is supposed to be this really big deal, but I don’t even know any girls here yet except for Laney.”
You know me! Take me, my beautiful Michael, not the evil and vapid Laney! I’d have to explain the change in plans to Joss, but I could make her understand if my dream boy stepped up.
Michael gestured to Wes and me and asked, “Are y’all going?”
“Us?” My voice came out high-pitched, and I waved a hand wildly between me and Wes while making an exaggerated face, grateful Ashley had disappeared into the crowd. “Wes and I? Oh my God, no. Are you kidding me?”
“Yeah.” Wes shook his head and did the slashing motion with his hand. “We are not going anywhere together. Trust me. I wouldn’t go to the gas station with this one.”
“Well, I wouldn’t invite you to the gas station, so you can just shut your big mouth,” I said around a smile, following it up with a big old fake arm punch. “Believe me.”
Michael looked at us like we were funny. “Oh. I thought I heard you were a thing.”
“Yeah, well, you heard wrong,” I said, horrified as I realized that I was the one who’d started the rumor. About myself.
God. And how freaking fast was gossipy Ash? Honestly, I’d have been impressed if I hadn’t been so worried about her ruining everything.
“Way off base, dude.” Wes tousled my hair and said, “No Little Liz for me.”
I slapped his hand. “Nope.”
“Oh.” Michael did a slow nod of consideration and then looked at me. “Two weeks, huh?”
Twwooooo. Weeeeeeeeks. Huuuuuuuuh?
Goose bumps prickled up my arms as Sheeran floated back into my head.
“So tell me what’s happened since I moved.” Michael was apparently done thinking Wes and I were a thing and also finished making me light-headed by speaking the word “prom” in my presence.
“Do y’all still hang out? How about the twins and Jocelyn?”
Wes and I looked at each other before I took over, mainly because I didn’t want him to say something embarrassing or unpleasant about me. “Wes and I see each other long enough to fight over the parking spot in front of our houses, but that’s pretty much it. And Joss is actually my best friend now, which even I find hard to believe.”
He smiled at that, and he had the kind of smile that made you feel like you’d done something right. A million happy nerve endings were buzzing inside my body, and I wanted to bask in that smile and make it never go away.
Ashley reappeared and said something to Wes, making him turn his back to us to talk to her, which was fine with me, because it left Michael and me in one-on-one conversation. I said, “The twins, on the other hand, now attend Horizon High. They got sent to the alternative school after they landed in juvie for stealing a car.”
“What?” Michael’s mouth dropped open but his eyes were still smiling. “Their mom was super religious, wasn’t she?”
“Yep.” I took a sip of the warm beer and did my best not to gag. “She still teaches classes on Catholicism every Wednesday night at St. Patrick’s, but she has to wear a scarlet letter on her denim jumper.”
“Scandalous.” He leaned his head closer. “This is wild—I still can’t believe it’s you. Little Liz, all grown-up.”
“I know. And who would’ve thought Michael from down the block would return?” My cheeks were warm as I also leaned closer so he could hear me over the party noise. My heart was pounding as I went over the words—as I had been for the past few hours—over and over again in my head. The clock was ticking, so I needed to jump in with both feet. I said, “I don’t know if you knew it, but when we were little, I had the biggest crush on you.”
His lips slid into a dashing grin. “Well, I’ll be honest. I kind of—”
I don’t know if Michael finished his sentence or not, because just as I was having a tiny pleasure aneurysm at the next sentence’s possibilities, I heard a noise. Like, the kind of gurgle a garden hose makes when you turn it on but the water hasn’t quite made it out of the tube yet. I glanced in the direction of the sound, and Ashley opened her mouth wide and spewed chunky brown vomit all over my front, from my neck to my dress to my bare, exposed kneecaps.
