Just Like the Movies (24 page)

I give him a five-second window to respond. He looks at me, his expression half-cautious and half-confused, as if he doesn't know what I'm asking for.

I look at him sadly. “It's over, Tommy. I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore.”

“Wait—please—I just—”

I hold a hand up. “Just go.”

He's still talking when I turn to unlock the door. He's practically pleading when I open it, but I block out his words. It doesn't matter what he says now.

“Baby, please” are the last words I hear as I shut the door firmly in his face. I don't wait for a knock or the sound of the doorbell. Instead, I hurry toward the kitchen and away from the temptation to let him inside.

And that's when I see the stack of college materials, sitting at a precarious tilt on the side table, with North Carolina State's insignia printed boldly on the very top envelope.

I hear General Qi's distinctive engine roar to life just as I drop into a chair at the kitchen table. As Tommy drives away, I pull out the NCU acceptance letter and close my eyes. It's time to make a decision without any outside factors. It's time to make a choice.

And I choose me.

“Mom, I'm heading to the track meet!”

I wait for her response, but she doesn't say anything. I move closer to the stairs and try again.

“Mom?”

“Wait, Lily. Hold on for a second.”

I can hear her talking, her voice rushed and a little sharp. I wonder if she's being stood up again. Maybe she's having a fight with Jim.

“I'm coming with you.”

I look up at her, startled. This is the last thing I expected to hear from my mother. But she's pulled on an old Molesworth High hoodie from her days as a student and she's bounding down the stairs.

“Since Mac's with his dad for the weekend and since you and I have never gone to a Molesworth sporting event, I figure we should give it a shot.”

“I—okay . . . if you really want to.”

She nods emphatically. “I
really
want to.”

Mom insists on driving, so I settle in the passenger seat of her Cherokee and resist the urge to turn on my iPod and get lost in my music. The last thing I feel like doing is chatting with my mom during the hour-long car ride to Salverton.

“So why'd you decide to come with me?” I ask her as she backs out of the driveway.

“Because I broke up with Jim.”

I turn to stare at her. “Seriously?”

She gives me a sad little smile.

“Yep. Seriously.”

“Why?”

Mom sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

“I guess I just decided that I shouldn't be with someone who doesn't really want to be with me.”

I shake my head. “Wow. Well, I never thought I'd see the day.”

Mom goes quiet for a second, then clears her throat.

“You know, it really hurts me when you say stuff like that.”

I look at her incredulously. “Are you kidding?”

“No.”

I close my eyes, attempting to restrain the emotion I feel bubbling up to the surface. But I can't—and like a science-project volcano, it froths and spills over with abandon.

“Do you have any idea how many times—hell, for how many
years
—you've been hurting
me
?”

Mom glances over at me, eyes a little watery. I'm not having any of it.

“You have spent my entire life trying to find a man. You've sacrificed time that belonged to Mac and to me. Time that we should have spent with you, you were spending with assholes like Contractor Jim.”

“Lily, honey . . .”

“No.” I shake my head vigorously, refusing to meet her gaze. “You made me believe that I wasn't as important to you as your love life.”

My eyes are dry, but the tears are gathering around the lump in my throat. I try to swallow them back. Mom, on the other hand, is openly weeping. I can hear the sniffles, but still I won't look at her.

“I'm sorry, sweetie,” she says finally.

I pretend to ignore her and she grows quiet. For the next twenty minutes, the only thing I can hear is the faint melody of music over the radio and the rumble of the tires meeting the road.

It isn't until we get to the Salverton city limits that she decides to speak again. This time, though, she surprises me.

“You're right.”

I look over at her, eyes narrowed. “About what?”

“About what you said. About who I was and what I did. I
did
put you and Mac on the back burner. I
did
make selfish decisions all in the name of love. I was desperate to feel that feeling, Lily. That movielike happily ever after that so many people have. I wanted that too. I
still
want it.”

She takes a deep breath and tries to steady her voice.

“But I made bad choices. I know I can be a great mom, but I should have made sure you and Mac know that, no matter what, you're my first priority. I'm sorry I didn't do that.”

I look at her then. In her own way, my mom looks a lot like me: dark hair with untamable curls, bright eyes that focus on the details of every plan, and a strong, independent streak. I haven't seen that independence in her for a long time. Now, though, it's kind of like it never disappeared at all.

I reach out and pat her hand.

“Let's just have a fun day together, Mom. It's a good place to start.”

By the time we make it to the track, we're almost thirty minutes late, so we take a seat on the bleachers just in time to watch the four-person relay race ending. I can see Marijke down at the sidelines, chatting with Beth Stuart, while Coach Mason paces back and forth. He looks a little nervous. In fact, so does Marijke.

I glance over along the bleachers and see Tommy sitting all the way at the opposite end. By the direction he's staring,
I know he's watching Marijke. He looks miserable; his frown and the dark circles under his eyes aren't hard to see, even from this distance.

As I scan the crowd on the lower bleachers, I see a familiar dark head with tousled hair. I suck in a breath. At least his back is to me. With any luck, Joe won't realize that I'm sitting behind him. The best-case scenario will be Molesworth wins and I slip out unnoticed.

A voice comes over the loudspeaker, announcing the hurdling event, and I watch Marijke shake the hand of one of her opponents, then fold into a runner's starting position. When the shotgun sounds, I'm out of my seat without even realizing it. Immediately, half of the spectators on the bleachers do the same thing. We all watch Marijke and her opponents fly down the track toward the first hurdle. As each of them leap over the white obstacles, I realize I'm holding my breath in anticipation.

For a second, time stands still. Or maybe it leaps forward. Regardless, I watch Marijke fly over each hurdle as if it's nothing at all, and I can imagine the fierce determination on her face. In that moment, I'm so damn proud of her. She's running toward her future with every step she takes.

From this distance, it's hard to tell who wins. There's an overall sense of confusion as Marijke and the other runners come to a stop. Coach Mason is sprinting toward her, along with Beth and a few other girls. It isn't until they hoist
Marijke on their shoulders that I realize Molesworth High girls' track has won the state championship. As everyone else realizes the same thing, there is a rising roar that overtakes the crowd. Soon the fans on the bleachers are storming the field and track. Everyone is running toward the center and I see streamers fly through the air. Someone repeatedly blows an air horn. There's mass chaos, but it's a happy kind of disorder.

I grin at my mom and point at the track. “I'm gonna run down there and congratulate her before we go, okay?”

“Sure—I'll go say hello to Coach Mason. I wonder if he'll remember me from back in the day.”

I bound down the middle of the bleachers as if they're stairs and hop down into the grass. From here, I see Marijke is still elevated on someone's shoulders and being spun in circles. I push through the crowd; when I finally reach her and she sees me, she makes the girls put her down on the ground.

“Wow,” she says, stumbling a little. “I'm a little wobbly now. Maybe I need to be carried around all day.”

I grin and reach in to hug her. “Congratulations. You kicked ass.”

“I think all the practice paid off in the end.” She beams at me.

“You look really happy,” I tell her. She shrugs.

“I am, I think. I'm definitely happy about that race!”

Which is when a male voice calls her name. We both turn to see Tommy, his hands in his pockets, standing a few yards away.

“Should I tell him to get lost?” I ask under my breath. But she shakes her head.

“No, it's fine. I'll catch up with you later, all right?”

“Sure.”

I look at Tommy briefly. He looks almost as depressed as before, save the sad little glimmer of hope in his eye when he looks at Marijke.

I move back toward the bleachers, weaving in and out of the people around me. But I'm not paying close enough attention to where I'm walking and, as if by some kind of divine manifestation, I run right into a tall male body.

“Oof!”

I grunt, attempting steady myself by inadvertently grabbing the stranger's shoulders. But, of course, he's not a stranger. His green eyes flash with surprise and then a touch of amusement.

“We've got to stop meeting this way, Lily Spencer,” Joe says in his gravely voice.

He's smiling now and I just stare up at him, speechless.

Damn it!

How does he render me so completely paralyzed? How is it possible I'm unable to flee him, despite my desire to run like hell?

There's good reason that romantic comedies are so successful: They are predictable. They are perfect. They have a script to follow and a formula that creates the perfect chemistry and connection every time. That's what Lily and I forgot when we put together our master plan. Life isn't predictable like a movie. There isn't a formula to follow.

“Hey,” I finally say to Tommy, at a loss for what should come after that. He takes a step forward.

“Um, congratulations. State champion—I bet it feels good after you've worked so hard.”

I nod, watching him. His eyes look tired and sad, so unlike the eyes I've known for more than a year. He's usually so full of life, but standing here he's like a muted version of his bright self.

“What are you doing here, Tommy?”

He shrugs. “I, uh—I just wanted to be here. To support you. I wasn't even going to tell you that I came. I was hoping to just come and go without you seeing me. But, well, I couldn't resist telling you how proud I am of you.”

I give him a sad smile and run a hand over my ponytail.

“Well, thanks. I think I'm glad you came.”

It's an honest response and he deserves that, since he's being so honest with me.

“Me too.” He rocks back on his heels and looks around us at the still-celebrating crowd. “Is everyone going for pizza?”

“Yeah—we called ahead this time, though. I think we'll have at least double the turnout. Salvatore might have a heart attack.”

“Do you mind if I come along?”

I cock my head, taking a deep breath.

“I don't know—I really just want to spend some time with the team. It's our last big hurrah, you know?”

“Yeah, okay.” He looks up at the sky, then back at me. “What about tonight? Maybe I could come over later? We could talk . . .”

“I'm hanging with my mom tonight. I promised her we'd spend some time together.”

Tommy nods, and I can't help but feel a little bad.

“I'm not trying to avoid you. Maybe you can come by later.”

He gives me a sad smile. “No, I get it. You have a life
and it doesn't revolve around me. I'm sorry I made you feel like it had to for so long. I'm sorry I ever made you question how important you are to me.”