He Loves Me...He Loves You Not Page 5

He grazes his fingertips across my face. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, full of emotion. “Please.” He gets on his knees and kisses my tears away.

  I’m having a hard time controlling myself and I sob so hard I can barely breathe. “Promise me something,” I say in between the sobs caught in my throat.

  “Anything.”

  “Promise you’ll never break my heart.”

  “I promise,” he swears.

  My love for him is deeper than the depths of the ocean. Deeper than the Grand Canyon. Deeper than the depths of emotion.

  “Promise you’ll always love me.”

  “I promise.”

  And in his own way I know he means it.

  Chapter 8

  “One of the hardest things in life is watching the person you love, love someone else.”~ Author Unknown ~

  Half of my face is hidden—shielded by my metal locker door. It’s been painted recently. Tan. The smell of the paint still looms in the confined hallway and the musty scent fills my lungs. I’m trying to be coy as I stare at Henry. He’s standing across the hall at his locker with her—his girlfriend Callie.

  He hasn’t acknowledged me at all today.

  There is a small part of me that wishes he would notice me. Look at me, Henry. Please look at me. Yet at the same time, I don’t want him to do anything obvious that she would notice. Why? Because I want to keep him. In my pocket. In my head. And right next to my heart.

  Breaking focus, my eyes shift to the floor and the neutral colors in the tile blur in my peripheral vision. A screechy feminine laugh throbs in my ears and I look up. Callie’s chestnut hair bounces on her shoulders as her laughter dies down.

  Henry smiles wide. The sight of his smile cuts me open. He’s feeding on my soul and he doesn’t even know it. I crumble as his radiant blue eyes sparkle. He’s only focused on her. Gazing at her adoringly, he brushes his fingertips along her cheeks and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear.

  I exhale. I’d convinced myself that seeing him with her wouldn’t bother me, but it does. I’d told myself that even though he’d never show me any affection in public I’d be okay with it, but I’m not. The hurt squirms inside of me like maggots feeding off of a decayed carcass. I’m open. Exposed. I’m dying inside and I do everything I can to hide it.

  “Hey!”

  The locker behind me slams and I jump. Panting, I clutch my chest. “Rosa.” I catch my breath. “What the hell?”

  “Dude. WTF. I like texted a million times and called you last night. You pissed at me or something?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Then what’s with you ignoring me?”

  “I was just busy!” I snap.

  “Whoa! Someone’s got a lil PMS.”

  “I’m just on edge. I wasn’t ready to come back to school.”

  “Who was? I’d rather be anywhere than here.”

  Rosa peers around me and giggles, pushing her red metallic framed glasses higher up on the bridge of her nose. “What’s so interesting?”

  “Huh?”

  “What were you looking at? You looked like you were daydreaming.”

  I grab a folder from my locker and close the door. “Nothing.”

  I’m lying to her and the fact that I’m being secretive with my best friend kills me. I trust her, but this is between me and Henry.

  “Ugh,” Rosa groans as she pushes herself away from the locker with her foot. She moves next to me and hugs her books tightly. “Doesn’t that make you nauseous?”

  I’m too afraid to look. Too afraid the jealousy that’s beginning to eat me alive will escalate to the point where I run down the hall, screaming like a lunatic off her meds.

  Rosa narrows her deep brown eyes and shakes her head. “Seriously you two! Get a freakin’ room!”

  The thought of witnessing the PDA is too tempting. I curse myself as I spin around. Why do I always let my curiosity get the best of me? A sigh of relief whooshes from my lips. “It’s only Noah and Holly.”

  Rosa glares at me incredulously. “Only Noah and Holly. What do you mean by that?”

  She’s giving me a questioning look. Can she hear the sound of relief in voice? Does she know I’m hiding something from her? “Um. Uh…” Quick, come up with something. “Last year they made out like that every day.”

  We walk down the hall and Rosa tucks her blue-black side bang behind her ear. “That doesn’t make it right.” As we pass Noah and Holly she yells, “Nobody wants to witness your peep show!”

  Noah flips her off, exposing the half-chipped black nail polish on his middle finger. He keeps his hand out, still lip-locked with Holly.

  Rosa shrugs. “I guess some things never change.”

  ****

  Every year, the first day of school always seems to breeze by. That’s probably because the teachers only have enough time each period to pass out books and assign seats. In a few of my classes my teachers went around the room and made the students talk about what we did over the summer.

  My summer. The summer of love. Thoughts of Henry remain constant as I tell some lame ass fabrication of a story about spending time at my aunt’s summer house on Lake Michigan. Sometimes I surprise myself because I can be such an amazing con and liar. The whole time I’m talking I’m fighting off the vivid pictures of him in my mind. His lips brushing against my ear. “I love you.” A whisper that sent chills throughout my body. His teeth graze my earlobe and I’m unglued and mad—crazy with the fire I feel growing inside of me for him. “I want you,” he’d murmured. “You. Only you.” The flashbacks are so real that I believe they are actually happening and I hope I’m not flinching in front of everyone. I stifle a look around the classroom. Nobody is paying attention. Thank God.

  Eighth period comes and I have a study hall. As I enter the cafeteria, I examine the students already seated in the wide rectangular room. No Henry. I’m relieved. The only period I have with him is lunch and that makes it easier to get through the day in one piece.

  I plop down at a table in the back as Mr. Warner, the tenth grade biology teacher waltzes in. He stops in the front of the room, sets down a book and pulls down his cardigan sweater. “Sit wherever,” he announces. “You can talk quietly amongst yourselves if you want.”

  Soft chatter echoes throughout the cafeteria and I opt out of being friendly. Aside from Rosa and this kid named Jace who used to live next door to me, who I hadn’t talked to in years, and Henry, I don’t have very many friends. Not because I’m antisocial. I just enjoy my alone time.

  I approach Mr. Warner as he sits down and picks up the latest Stephen King novel and adjusts his gold wire spectacles. “Um, Mr. Warner?”

  He doesn’t look up. He’s fully absorbed in whatever horrific world Mr. King has created for that particular novel. “Uh huh.”

  I twiddle my thumbs. “Could I go to the library?”

  I’ve always spent my study halls in the library. I like using the computers. Mainly for pointless stuff like surfing Forever 21’s sale page or popping in a burned cd and listening to music while I work on some homework assignment. Lately, I’ve been on a Kings of Leon fix. Closer and True Love Way are on repeat at all times.

  Mr. Warner waves his hand as his eyes widen. “Sure. Sure. Go ahead.”

  He must be reading a really good part.

  The quiet in the deserted hallway consumes me as I scale the first narrow set of stairs. Usually there are a few stragglers who linger at their lockers trying to get out of their last class of the day.

  The rubber soles of my Converse tennis shoes echo against the tile after climbing the second set of stairs. I’m worried the squeaking sound my shoes make is too loud, so I take small, quiet steps on my way to the third and final staircase.

  Then I’m caught off guard when a pair of strong arms circle my waist and guide me into the boy’s bathroom. “What the?”

  Henry pushes me into the wall and spins around quickly, locking the door with his long wooden hall pass. I’m breathing hard. So
elated and overwhelmed that I place my hands above me on the cloudy teal walls.

  Henry moves behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other around my chest. He pulls me close, gripping at the bottom of my t-shirt with his fingers. The warmth from his body sends me reeling, mixed with insanity and pleasure. True Religion cologne lingers on his clothing and the enticing scent invades my nostrils.

  I ache when I can’t see him. Feel him. Smell him. When I finally do get to see him, there’s a joyous eruption inside of my heart that’s more boisterous than a volcano. I swallow hard. His nose is on the nape of my neck and my whole body goes limp. I’m play-doh. Useless. He can bend me, move me and do whatever he wants because I know my body won’t function on its own.

  He breathes into my hair and his warm breath down my back brings on fresh goose bumps. “I had to see you,” he whispers. Such a soft, seductive, and at the same time, emotional whisper that makes my legs tremble.

  And I’m gone. So far gone that I’m certain I can’t distinguish fantasy from reality.

  I spin around and try to fight him off. I push against him, but he’s stronger than me. He lifts me up by my waist and backs me up into the wall. My voice has been caught in my throat since he first surprised me, but I finally find it and choke out, “Henry this isn’t safe. We’ll get caught. A teacher might walk in on us or something.”

  Trying to refuse him is painful when every part of me inside is screaming for him.

  He places his forehead against mine and I’m over-heated, like an engine about to spontaneously combust. He twirls a piece of my ash-blond hair between his fingertips and exhales, “I don’t care, Riley. I don’t care.”

  He pushes against me harder and traces the curve of my neck with his kisses. I gasp, choking on my own breaths, wedged in between his arms, the wall, and the sink in the boys bathroom. Seconds later, his lips cover mine. I’m sucked into his passionate embrace and I run my fingers wildly through his hair. I’m drowning in his kisses, trembling beneath his touch, and every time his fingertips glide over my exposed skin I feel like I’m scorching—baking all day in the intense summer sunlight.

  As our kissing progresses, I don’t care that our tryst seems raunchy and wrong. I don’t care that I’m at school, in the boys’ bathroom. I don’t care that to most people this would seem cheap, dirty, and despicable. The only thing I can think about while he kisses me deeper, harder, faster, is that Henry Garner is the plague and the only thing I want him to do is infect me.

  Chapter 9

  Love - a wildly misunderstood although highly desirable malfunction of the heart which weakens the brain, causes eyes to sparkle, cheeks to glow, blood pressure to rise and the lips to pucker.

  As I lie in bed that night I can’t help but wonder if Henry will still come over, tonight. Probably not, but I can still hope, right? I smile when I think of a moment earlier when he kissed me before leaving the boys bathroom. A powerful, loving kiss that even after our interlude made my knees buckle.

  “I’ll call you later,” he shouted over his shoulder as he made his exit.

  But he hasn’t and the blank screen on my cell phone is driving me crazy.

  I grab my laptop off of my nightstand. I open it, log into Facebook, and skim my wall. I freeze and my breathing stops. Henry Garner is tagged at Callie Banfield’s house at 8:30 pm.

  I can’t stop staring at the tag. I’m furious. Jealous. Depressed. I close my laptop and kick it off my bed. I don’t care if it breaks. Damn you, Henry. Why did you have to steal my heart? Why can’t I forget about you? Why can’t you choose me and not her? Why do you think you’re so special that you get to have both?

  Sometimes I don’t feel so bad about my relationship with Henry. Callie isn’t exactly a nice person. Back in elementary school she used to tease me repeatedly because I went through a tomboy phase and I wore boy’s clothes. “Don’t talk to it,” she’d say. “Seriously, what are you?”

  I know that’s no excuse. I know that just because Callie is a bitch, her nature doesn’t justify what I’m doing with her boyfriend, but sometimes it makes me feel like I’m finally getting revenge for what she’d done to me all those years ago. But as much as I despise Callie Banfield, she doesn’t deserve this. No one does.

  For what feels like days, I stare out the open window in my bedroom, hoping the cool breeze will miraculously send Henry flying through my window like Superman. Minus the cape. Then he’ll climb into my bed like he has so many nights before and hold me. He’ll keep me warm all through the night and I’ll wake up the next morning with his arms around me. Then we’ll kiss for hours and hours until the suns sets in the sky. What a pleasant dream to have and I know that’s all it will ever be, a dream.

  ****

  My alarm goes off and I growl as I feel around for the snooze button.

  Nine minutes isn’t enough of a snooze and as the alarm blares again I hit the snooze button a second time and a third and a fourth. By the fifth time, my Mom opens the door and flips the light on. “Riley Elizabeth Davis! Would you stop hitting that snooze button?”

  The sound of her heel tapping against the hard wood floor floods my ears and I wrap my pillow around my head and roll over. “Uh, Mom,” I whine. “Come on, ten more minutes. Please.”

  Mom flicks the light on and off over and over again. “I don’t think so, missy. Get up. You’re going to be late for school.”

  My eyelids flutter and I roll over. I squint at Mom, still disoriented and not fully awake.

  Mom is wearing a red tweed suit and she smooths down the skirt to cover her white slip underneath.

  I wipe my eyes and yawn. “You showing houses, today?” My Mom is a realtor and spends a lot of time working. She’s always showing houses our hosting open houses for potential buyers.

  She fluffs her golden shoulder length bob that glimmers under the light. “Several.” She spins slowly. “Does this suit say sale?”

  I don’t verbalize my answer. I simply nod.

  She steps away from my door for a second and returns with a lint brush. “You’re going to be on your own tonight for dinner, okay kiddo?” She rolls the lint brush over her arms and down her chest.

  I scoot to the edge of my bed. “Cool.”

  Mom palms the lint brush. “There’s food in the fridge and I left money on the counter in case you’d rather order pizza.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure thing, kiddo.” She kisses my forehead. “I’ll be home late so don’t wait up.”

  “Noted.” Mom waves at me quickly and walks out of my room.

  I get ready fast and stalk to my car. I grin, thinking about having the house to myself for a while. I text Henry.

  My mom won’t B home 2nite. U can come ovr if U want.

  I try to think if texting him this early would be bad. Does he pick up Callie for school? Does she go through his phone? I shrug it off, nah. I can’t remember him ever mentioning anything about that.

  But while I’m at my locker, before the warning bell, I realize texting Henry this morning was a bad idea.

  He strolls over to me and places one hand on the top of my locker door and the other above my head.

  At first, an exciting, anxious feeling swirls around the pit of my stomach. I bite my bottom lips and smirk. I want him to touch me and in my head I’m singing, my love, my love, my love. Then I get a clear look at his face and I don’t know why I expect anything positive from this random encounter.

  Henry never talks to me in school and if he does its only when no one is around or in a secretive place.