He Loves Me...He Loves You Not Read online

  I suck back my tears and whimper, “Hey.” A half-whine. Half-shout.

  “I’m not finished.” Her words are stern and forceful.

  I shut up. My tears ducts are drying up. Rosa always has a way of making me feel better. I’m a puzzle with missing pieces and she’s putting me back together again.

  “Best friends remind you that you’re a beautiful, amazing, person who deserves a guy who’s just as devoted to you as you are to him. You deserve to be his one and only.” She gazes intensely into my eyes and I smile. “Finally, best friends have each other’s backs no matter what and no matter how this whole Henry thing turns out, I’ll support you. Even if I don’t agree with it.”

  “Thank you.”

  A soft smirk appears on her lips. “No problem.”

  She releases me and we turn, heading down the driveway toward the booger. “And another thing,” she states and I look at her. “If he really is back with Callie, don’t worry about killing him because I’ll kill him first.”

  Chapter 16

  “Love has features which pierce all hearts, he wears a bandage which conceals the faults of those beloved. He has wings, he comes quickly and flies away the same.”~ Voltaire ~

  Saturday comes. An early morning gust of wind whirls through my window and carries the scent of autumn in with it.

  I’m not ready for the seasons to change from summer to fall. I’m not ready for change, period.

  There’s a bite of chill from the wind hovering above my bed. It stings my cheeks and I shiver. My eyelids flutter open as goose bumps line my skin. I look over at Rosa. She’s hogging the blanket. Then I stumble out of bed, over to the window and close it with a growl.

  Leaving my window open is a habit I’m going to have to learn how to break. Henry is a habit I’m going to have to learn how to break.

  I’ve heard it takes twenty-eight days to break a habit. If that’s true, I’m certain the twenty-eight days I have ahead of me will be the most torturous and grueling twenty-eight days of my life.

  Before sliding back into my bed, I check my cell. No missed calls. No texts.

  It’s over, I tell myself. Stop thinking about him. But that’s easier said than done.

  Henry made feel special. He made me feel fearless. He made me feel loved.

  As I climb back into bed, I yank the blanket away from Rosa. She groans rolls over, and plows the heel of her hand into my shoulder. Searing pain spreads across my arm and I wince. I express how the pain feels silently so that I don’t wake her up.

  After lying in bed awake for a while, I decide I can’t lie there and listen to Rosa’s light snoring anymore. I get up and go downstairs.

  Metal gleams from the kitchen and casts a dancing light along the walls of the hallway. Our stainless steel refrigerator comes into view and a white piece of paper is hanging on the top by potato chip magnet.

  I’m still freezing and I read the note as I rub the warmth back into my arms.

  Riley,

  Had to go into the office. I’ll be home a little later.

  Love you, Mom.

  I’m glad she’s not home. She’d notice that I’m upset and she’d want to know what’s wrong with me. I don’t feel like explaining nor do I want to.

  Rosa grunts behind me. I look over my shoulder and she’s stretching. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

  She laughs and runs her fingers through her bed-head hair. “I know.”

  I turn back around, tug on the fridge door, and examine our options for breakfast. “You hungry?”

  “Meh. I usually just have coffee.”

  I pull out the milk and grab the frosted flakes from the top of the fridge. “Okay, I’ll make a pot.”

  Rosa nurses her cup of coffee and I sit down across from her with my bowl of cereal. A lawnmower buzzes and I catch a glimpse of my neighbor riding around his yard. I can practically smell the musty fresh cut grass from where I’m sitting and my heart feels heavy.

  Rosa cuts into my thoughts. “Has he called?”

  I stir my cereal. “No.”

  I wish it wasn’t sunny outside because there’s a thunderstorm going on inside of me.

  She takes a sip from the number one mom mug I gave her and I lift my head. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

  “I feel destroyed and I’m not okay, but I’m sure I will be eventually.” The problem is I don’t know when that will be.

  Rosa sets her cup down and squeezes my hand. “If you need me to stay for the next week, I will.”

  I smile. “Thanks.”

  She lets go of my hand. “But, I’m going to teach you how to make a decent cup of coffee. This tastes like liquid tree bark.”

  I laugh. “Then why are you drinking it?”

  She shrugs and crooks me a smile. “I figure you’re have a hard enough time, why make it worse.”

  ****

  An hour later, I stand with Rosa at the front door. She props the screen door open with her foot. “Are you sure you don’t want to do something fun today? A random adventure might take your mind off of things.”

  “I’ll consider it, but I really think I just need some time alone.”

  She tosses her purse over her shoulder. “Well, if you need me you know how to get ahold of me.”

  “I’ll text you later anyway.”

  She points her finger at me. “You better. I’ll worry if you don’t.”

  Rosa walks out the door and I stand on my porch, watching as she treks down my driveway to the booger. “Later!” I call.

  My gaze shifts to the oak tree in front of house, yellow and orange spots are forming on the jungle green leaves. The dulling colors blind me and a hollowed out hole in the trunk reminds me of how empty I feel inside. I’m a bottomless pit of despair.

  After a minute I walk back inside and into the kitchen. I grab my empty cereal bowl and Rosa’s empty coffee cup. Empty. Empty. Empty. Why does everything have to remind me of how I feel?

  At the sink, I rinse out my bowl and her coffee cup. Then the doorbell chimes ringing out like church bells on Sunday. I glance at the clock. Rosa must have forgotten something. She’s only been gone for two minutes.

  I jog down the hall. “Coming!”

  Sometimes I swear Rosa has dementia. She’s always forgetting stuff—always in a rush. I yank the door open and shake my head. “What did you forget, now?”

  As I turn my head my breathing stops. My lungs constrict fighting to release the oxygen. “Henry,” I gasp. My stomach is a hive of bumblebees, buzzing and flitting their translucent wings. Swarms of yellow and black making honey. “What are you doing here?”

  Tears glisten in his eyes. “I need you,” he tells me.

  For a moment time stops. I’m fighting for control between my head and my heart. My head tells me he’s hurt me enough. It tells me not to fall prey to whatever he has up his sleeve. A spider, always managing to lure back into his web of lies, but my heart, my hearts swells and pounds so loud I can feel it my ears. The sight of his tears thrust into me like a spear through the side.

  He wipes his eyes. “Can I come in?”

  I look over my shoulder into my empty hallway. No mom. No Rosa. And there is no chance I’ll be able to resist him If I do let him in. “No,” I say and step onto my porch, closing the door behind me. “What do you want, Henry?”

  He reaches for my hand, but I fold my arms across my chest. “I need someone to talk to.”

  I shrug. “So talk.”

  His hair is messy and he scratches the back of his head then looks at me, confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

  As if he doesn’t know. I’m perplexed by the sincerity in his voice. “Shouldn’t you be over Callie’s, talking to her?” My eyes burn into his. I feel like I’m in a coma. How am I ever supposed to recover if he won’t let me?

  “Why would I talk to her?”

  “Because she’s your girlfriend.”

  “No she’s not.”

  I scowl. “You’re lying.”
The conversation I overheard yesterday sounds off in my head like an over-played song on the radio. “Two guys heard you guys getting it on last night while I was outside.”

  A wide range of emotions pass over his features. He clenches his jaw. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t hook up with her. I dumped her; she threw a lamp at my head, and then trashed my room.”

  I roll my eyes. “Right.” I’m trying to keep my emotions in check because I don’t know what to believe. “After all that you’ve put me through you expect me to believe that?”

  “Believe it because it’s true.” There’s no warmth to his voice. It’s ice cold. “I just threw away a four year relationship for you and you’re acting like a heartless bitch”

  My mouth drops open and I shove him. “I thought you didn’t love her! I thought that four year relationship was long gone anyways! What? Did you give a pity screw? One last romp with Henry Garner?”

  I’m in his face and he leans down, a cold calculating look on his face. “You’re unbelievable!” His teeth are gritted and he’s breathing heavy.

  “No, you’re unbelievable! Coming over here trying to spout all the same pathetic lines that I’ve been falling for months and after last night expecting me to still believe them! You’re the heartless one! How many times have you ripped out my heart and stomped on it? Huh, Henry? How freaking many?” I sound crazy, but I don’t care. “You didn’t even call me to tell me you dumped her. You let me believe that you chose her over me!”

  “There’s a damn reason why I didn’t call!”

  “And what’s the reason? Come on. Feed me another lie. I’m waiting for it.”

  He scowls. “You know what, forget it.” He turns around and walks down the porch steps.

  “Forget you!” I shout as he struts down my sidewalk.

  “You should be saying that to yourself!” he booms. “Because I already did!”

  I watch Henry Garner, the love of my life run down my driveway and his words haunt me. Because I already did.

  Then I hit my knees and bury my head in my hands and that’s when my whole world comes crashing down.

  Chapter 17

  “Better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.” ~ St. Augustine ~

  I stay in bed for the rest of the weekend with thoughts of Henry’s last words looming in the back of my mind. Because I already did.

  How can you forget someone you love just like that? How can you say something like that to someone you love?

  Maybe I was being a heartless bitch. Maybe I was too harsh on him. Maybe he was telling the truth.

  I’m not sure if he’ll ever talk to me again, so I don’t know if I’ll ever find out the answers.

  Rosa calls. I don’t answer. She texts.

  Ry, R U ok? I’ve been callin.

  I text back.

  I’m fine.

  The only reason I text her back at all is because I know she won’t leave me alone until I do.

  Mom cracks my door open. “Riley, sweetie, dinner is ready.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I force out. Food is the last thing on my mind. I bury myself deeper into my down comforter. “I’m tired.”

  Mom walks over to the edge of my bed and sits down. “Are you feeling okay sweetheart?”

  Inside I’m screaming just leave me alone, but I know she’s concerned and I don’t want to worry her. “I’m just feeling a little under the weather. I think I just need to sleep it off.”

  She peels back my covers, leans down and kisses my forehead. “Okay sweetie.” She walks to the door. “I’ll put your plate in the fridge in case you’re hungry later.”

  “Thanks Mom.”

  I wait until she’s out my door before I snatch my cell from the nightstand, and I know I shouldn’t do it, but I send Henry a text.

  What R U doing?

  Minutes pass. Then an hour. No response. So I send him another one.

  Henry? R U still mad at me?

  The rest of the night passes by and I don’t hear anything back from him.

  ****

  Monday morning, at school I make it my mission to find him. I have to talk to him.

  But school is weird. Something about it seems off. The halls are quiet even though it’s filled with students.

  Instinctively, I peer at Callie’s locker. She’s there hunching over, grabbing a book from the bottom, but Henry’s not there. I scan the hall as students brush past me. I don’t think Henry is even in school.

  He’s always hanging out in the halls before, after, and sometimes during class. I look to my left as Rosa struts toward me. “Hey,” she greets me with a smile. “You look better.”

  “Thanks, I guess.” I’m not going to tell her I feel better because in reality, I don’t.

  “So have you heard?”

  I close my locker door and my eyes widen. “Heard what?”

  “Henry Garner is officially back on the market.”

  “What?” I squawk and cover my mouth. “No.”

  I’m too shocked to even think straight. Happiness flourishes throughout me and I do the best I can to keep myself calm, but it’s difficult. All I really want to do is jump up and down and find Henry and smother him with my kisses.

  I’m not a fling. He cares. He loves me.

  I see him so clearly in my mind. I did this for you, Riley. All for you. Just like he said.

  My heart races. Palpitates. Flutters. I’m going through withdrawals. That’s how bad I want him to touch me right now.

  “Yup. I guess he dumped her at that party he had. And from what I heard, Callie went berserk. Like psycho bitch berserk. I guess she threw some stuff at his head and slapped him.”

  “Who told you this?”

  “I overheard one of the cheerleaders talking. I guess she was Callie’s ride home and Callie told her everything.”

  Three sophomore girls pass us whispering ‘Henry Garner’ then they giggle amongst each other.

  My stomach churns and twists and acid bounces against the lining like choppy water in the ocean. I feel sick and I’m mad at myself because he was telling me the truth. I need to find him. He needs to hear me out.

  In a panic I stifle a look around the hall. “Well, where is he?”

  “It gets worse.” Rosa lowers her voice.

  “What do you mean it gets worse? Did they get back together?”

  She clears her throat and looks down. “His Mom died.”

  I let out a sob caught in my throat. “What?” The sound of her voice fades away and the hall blurs around me. “When?”

  “Friday night.”

  I want to punch myself in the face. No. The self-inflicted pain won’t even come close to the pain he’s feeling now. He really did need me. He came to me for support and I turned him away when he needed me the most. And I hate myself for it.

  “He came to my house right after you left on Saturday. He told me he needed me. We got in a huge fight because I thought he was just playing games with me. He was crying. Rosa, what should I do?”

  We walk down the hall. “Did you call him?”

  I nod. “And texted. He won’t call me or text me back.”

  “Well, if I were you, I’d go find him.”

  “Rosa, I can’t barge in on a funeral. Plus based on our last conversation, I’m pretty sure he never wants to see me again.”

  She reaches over and snatches the stack of books in my hand. “Go.” There’s an urgent undertone in her voice.

  “What if I get in trouble?”

  She smirks. “I’ll take care of that.” She grabs me by the arm and we duck into the girl’s bathroom.

  “What are you doing?”

  Reaching into her pocket she whips out her cell. She hands me the pile of books. “Riley Davis,” she begins, “this is your first lesson on devious behavior. Well, technically your second. I’d say your scandalous affair with Henry was your first. Rosa clears her throat, lowers her voice, and dials a number on her phone. A second
passes. Then I hear the voice of Mrs. Gephart. “Mrs. Gephart,” says Rosa in her new huskier voice. “This is Riley Davis’s mother. I’m fine and you? Good. Good. She needs to come home right away. There is a family emergency. Yes. Thank you.”

  Another second later that PA sounds off.

  Riley Davis report to the office please.

  I shake my head. “I can’t believe you just did that! What if I get caught?”

  “Will you grow a pair and quit worrying about getting caught?” A devilish grin spreads across her lips. “Now get out of here. Go get lover boy.”

  I unload the pile of books in my hand into hers. “I owe you.”

  She laughs. “Oh, I know you do. And I will collect.”

  Before she can get another word out, I dash out of the bathroom, hoping that when and if I find Henry, that he’ll forgive me.

  Chapter 18

  “Love is a symbol of eternity. It wipes out all sense of time, destroying all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end.” ~ Author Unknown ~

  I drive past the only funeral home our town has. There are no cars.

  I’m flustered and in a panic. Heat sears through me and I start sweating. I have to find him. I need to find him. I turn on the air. Relief swirls through me as the coldness wafts over me, drying up the perspiration.

  Henry, where are you?

  Traffic whizzes by me and it seems like everyone on the road today wants to drive ten miles an hour. I honk my horn. The car in front of me is still stopped for at least thirty seconds at the stop sign.

  Every second that passes is one second less that I have to find Henry. One second less of his time. And one second less that I have to ask for his forgiveness.

  Next I pull into the cemetery parking lot. A vacant, newly paved parking lot. Only one car, a rusty old truck that’s paint job almost matches the rust around its edges. If Henry isn’t at the funeral home or cemetery, there’s only one place left to look. His house.