Just Like the Movies by Kelly Fiore Page B

us to shut up when we were together. I miss that, I realize all of a sudden.
    â€œListen, Court, I was wondering—”
    â€œHey Courtney, let’s go. Nadia is waiting for us to start the meeting.”
    Meagan comes up behind Courtney and I feel my heart sort of sink. In another life—my old life—I’d be the one going to the meeting with Courtney and she would have been the one scheming with me about all these movies. Not with Lily, a girl I’ve basically just met. A girl I barely know at all.
    â€œLater, Marijke,” Courtney says, giving me a little smile. “Good luck with states.”
    â€œLater,” I echo.
    I watch them walk away, arm in arm, and I try to remember what I have to be grateful for. My friendship with Courtney is my past. I need to focus on my future—my track friends, my running, and my boyfriend.
    Most of all, my hopefully foolproof plan to capture his heart tonight for good.

“So, let me get this straight . . .”
    We’re standing in the foyer of Marijke’s house and she’s staring at the speaker dock looking doubtful.
    â€œI drive to Tommy’s,” she’s saying, “park down the street, sneak into his backyard, turn this thing on, and—what? Just stand with it over my head, waiting for him to hear me?”
    I shrug. “Yeah. That’s about it. Why, were you expecting fireworks?”
    â€œNo, not necessarily. I just think that when guys put themselves out there like that, it’s totally romantic. When a girl does it, she just looks like a stalker.”
    I frown. “Who cares what it looks like? Who is going to see you besides Tommy?”
    â€œWell, you are, for starters. I already told you, I’m not doing this without you as my wingman.”
    I arch an eyebrow. “So, what, am I going to be holding your hand or something?”
    â€œNope, I’ve already figured it all out. It’s gonna be dark out and Tommy’s backyard is practically a jungle. I got my dad to bring home one of the portable spotlights they use for presentations at the dealership. I figure you could put the spot on me so Tommy could see me—so he’d know it was me and not some crazy person.”
    Huh. Guess she’s really thought this through.
    â€œI suppose I can do that,” I say slowly. “And now that I think about it, I should probably drive too—Tommy won’t know my car if he sees it accidentally.”
    â€œGood idea. Come on, let’s go upstairs. I need outfit advice.”
    â€œSeriously?”
    â€œYes,
seriously
—come on.”
    When we get to her bedroom, I glance at the outfit choice that’s spread out on her bed: a tight black mini and a pair of sky-high silver stilettos.
    â€œUm, well, I would imagine Tommy’s backyard is made of, you know,
grass
. If that’s the case, you aren’t walking anywhere in those spikes—they’ll sink right in and stay there.”
    â€œGood point, good point.” She dives back into her closet and brings out a pair of glittery flats and a jean skirt.
    â€œYou are wearing a shirt too, right?”
    Marijke rolls her eyes.
    â€œObviously.”
    She picks up a black cami from her bed and shakes it at me.
    â€œOkay, so, a skimpy tank top and tiny skirt . . . and what exactly are you trying to make happen? A lap dance?”
    â€œHar, har.” But Marijke now looks doubtfully at her new outfit choice, and I can’t help but laugh.
    â€œIt’s going to be dark. Who cares what you’re wearing? Just get dressed so we can get out of here. I have to be home by eleven.”
    It’s a quarter to nine when we finally make it back down the stairs.
    â€œMom? Dad?” Marijke calls. I follow her as she walks into the kitchen. We both stop short when we see her parents. They’re standing very close to one another and are talking quietly, with serious looks on both of their