Better Than the Movies

At seven, Liz Buxbaum snuck into her mother's room during a nightmare and discovered Bridget Jones's Diary.

At seven, Liz Buxbaum snuck into her mother's room during a nightmare and discovered Bridget Jones's Diary. She fell for the wrong character—the charming playboy—so her mom set her straight: charm disappears, so never choose the bad boy. After that, romantic comedies became their shared language, a world of happy endings curated like other families binged reality TV. When her mother died, Liz inherited two things: a collection of kiss-infused DVDs and an unwavering belief that Mr. Right—dependable, steady, safe—could be waiting around any corner. She just had to be ready.

Liz's childhood crush reappears with a Southern drawl

Liz Buxbaum has spent her senior year dodging milestones her dead mother will never witness—while her stepmom Helena tries to step in and Wes Bennett, the next-door neighbor, wages daily war over a street parking spot. Then Michael Young walks down the hallway of their Omaha high school, golden-haired with a Texas drawl, and Liz's body remembers being ten years old and desperately in love. Michael had lived on their street before moving away—one month before her mother died—and his return feels cosmic, like a piece of lost happiness reassembled. But Jocelyn, Liz's best friend, delivers crushing news: Michael has been talking to Laney Morgan, Liz's longtime nemesis, for weeks. They're nearly official. If Liz wants her childhood dream, she'll need an unlikely accomplice.

Liz bargains her parking spot for Wes's help with Michael

Standing soaked on Wes's porch, Liz offers the one thing she knows he can't refuse: uncontested access to the street parking spot they've warred over for years, in exchange for getting her into a party where Michael will be. Wes agrees instantly. Over cookies and milk at his house, they watch a Hugh Jackman rom-com and argue—he calls the genre formulaic garbage, she defends enemies-to-lovers as a classic trope. Their bickering feels different from fighting over parking; it has a strange undercurrent of enjoyment. They exchange numbers and set a plan for the next night. Walking home through the rain, Liz remembers the time Wes gave her ten dollars so she could buy back her dead mother's donated DVD collection, then played it off as wanting to shut her up.

Ashley's vomit destroys Liz's outfit and her moment with Michael At the keg party, Liz is mid-confession to Michael—telling him about her childhood crush—when a drunk girl named Ashley opens her mouth and covers Liz from neck to knees in warm brown vomit. Michael's nose crinkles. The crowd gawks. Wes hands Ashley off and steers Liz to a bathroom, then runs to his trunk for clean clothes. She changes into…