He Loves Me Not: Lily’s Story, Book 1 (7 page)

N
early an hour
later my roommates returned. I turned off the television show I’d been watching and stood to speak to them.

“Lily, you're still up,” Michelle said. “Is everything okay?”

With a tentative smile, I said, “Actually, no. I need to talk to you about something.”

“I'm really tired,” Nicole said. “Can't it wait?”

“No, it can't,” I said.

“Okay. What is it?” Michelle asked.

“It's simple, really. I just need you to make sure you lock the door when you leave, okay?”

“Is that all?” asked Nicole. “I usually do. I only forget once in a while. It's not that big a deal.”

“I know. But my boyfriend,” I paused, realizing it was the first time I'd called Trevor that. I liked the sound of it.

“Yeah, your boyfriend?” Nicole prompted. “What about him?”

I relished the confirmation Nicole gave in also calling Trevor my boyfriend. “He said we need to make sure we lock the door.” I didn't want to explain about the note if I could help it, and hoped that would be explanation enough.

Nicole laughed. “Who is he to tell us what to do? He's not my boyfriend.”

“Please,” I said. “Just do it. I can't get into it right now, but it's very important that we don't leave the door unlocked.”

Obviously trying to calm the situation, Michelle turned to Nicole and said, “Of course we'll make sure to lock the door. It's a good idea anyway.” She turned back to me. “Is everything all right?”

I tried to hide my concern with a smile. “Yes, everything's fine. Thank you, Michelle.”

Michelle purposefully walked to the apartment door and turned the lock. “There. Now I'm going to bed.”

All three of us headed to our rooms for the night.

F
or the next
week Michelle and Nicole were very conscientious about locking the door when they left, and I appreciated their effort.

I spent more time with Trevor than I should have, and when I received a sixty-two percent on my math test, I was shocked and distressed. With the test in my hands, I silently berated myself for slacking off so much in my schoolwork.

I’d better be careful or I might end up failing my classes. I love Trevor and I want to be with him every free moment, but I have to keep up with my assignments.

In disgust, I stuffed the exam into my backpack before heading to the parking lot, climbing into my car, and driving home.

Upset over my poor performance on the math test, at first the unlocked apartment door didn't register as unusual. Then I realized no one else was home. Fear jolted through me as I quickly glanced around the living room. Everything seemed fine there, so I walked carefully toward my room and stared at my closed door.

Will I find everything okay in there as well?

I turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open.

At first everything did seem fine, but as I began unloading my backpack, I noticed a few items out of place. Being the organized and neat woman that I was, it quickly became apparent that someone had been there and had gone through my things.

Gathering my nerve, I flung open my closet to make sure no one was lurking inside. Then I peeked under my bed. All was clear. I ran from the room and made a quick check of Michelle’s room, then Nicole's. They were both in their normal messy state, but no one was in them.

I went back to my own room, then quickly took a mental inventory of my things to ascertain if anything was missing. Nothing was, but I did find a new item added to my belongings. It was a picture of Trevor—a photograph that had been sliced in half with only Trevor left. In the picture, laughter filled Trevor’s face, and an arm snaked around his waist. The owner of the arm had been cut out of the picture, but I could make out nail polish on the nails and an amethyst ring on the hand nestled tightly against Trevor’s waist. There was also a date stamp in the corner. It was dated nine months before.

I flipped the photo over to see if there was anything written there. Nothing. I thrust the photo into my back pocket.

“How strange.” I spoke out loud, wondering what the message was supposed to be.

Does Trevor have a jealous ex-girlfriend in the wings? Someone who doesn’t want to see him with anyone else? Does he know what kind of person she is and that's why he’s concerned about me locking my doors?

A shiver of fear rolled up my spine. The photo had been left in my dresser drawer. This person, whomever he or she was, had been in my room and had had access to my private things.

The realization made me feel violated and angry—angry with the intruder, but also angry with my roommates for carelessly leaving the door unlocked.

Deciding some chocolate might make me feel better, I went to the kitchen to have a few of my favorite cookies—ones I'd hidden. I opened the cupboard and reached into the very back, groping for the cookies, but didn’t find them. In desperation, I pulled out the dishes and stuck my head into the cupboard. The cookies were gone.

That’s it. That’s the last straw. I can't stand living here anymore. First my roommates can’t manage to lock the door when they leave, putting me in danger from some deranged ex-girlfriend of Trevor’s, and then they eat my food.

I stood, then stared at the wall as my mind churned.

I'm going to look for my own place. I don't care how much it costs—I have to think of my safety and my sanity.

I went into my bedroom and shut the door. All the difficulties of the day—the bad grade on the test, the missing cookies, and most especially the photo in my dresser—added up to frustration and helplessness. My throat thickened with unshed tears as loneliness welled up in my heart.

“Trevor, I need you,” I said out loud, my voice breaking. I knew he was working this afternoon, but my desire to have him near was overwhelming. I hadn't been to Rob’s shop before, but I decided this was as good a time as any.

He’d told me where it was, but I couldn't remember what he’d said. All I remembered was the name—
Rob’s Auto Body
—which I entered into the GPS app on my phone. A moment later the directions appeared. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, making sure to lock it behind me.

Ten minutes later I pulled up to the shop. When I saw Trevor’s blue 1968 Camaro parked around the back, comfort swept over me. Just knowing he was near made me feel better. I climbed out of my car and went through the front door.

A man in blue coveralls and a hat with the shop’s name emblazoned across the front came to the counter. “Can I help you, miss?”

I noticed the name ‘Rob’ on the front of his coveralls and assumed he was Trevor’s boss. “I’m looking for Trevor Caldwell. I’m Lily.”

The man’s face broke into a smile. “Oh, so you're the one who’s distracting Trevor from his work. I'll tell him you’re here.”

The man walked through another door and several minutes later Trevor came through. He wore his own set of coveralls, although there was no name on his. When he saw me, his face lit up, and he immediately came around the counter. “I'd give you a hug, but I'm kinda dirty.”

I shook my head and closed my eyes. “That’s okay.” When he was near, I felt safe and loved, even if I couldn’t be in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Not that I mind, but you've never come before. Is everything okay?”

My eyes filled with tears, which annoyed me.

“Hey, what's wrong, honey?”

I silently reached into my back pocket and pulled out the half photograph. “I found this in my dresser drawer this afternoon.” I held out the picture.

He took it from me and stared at it a few moments before handing it back. He didn't say anything, just looked at me.

“Well?” I demanded.

“Well, what? I didn't put it there.”

“Can you explain it? You're in the picture. Whose arm is around you? Surely you must know that.”

He looked away. “I honestly don't know who it is.”

I pointed to the date in the corner. “It wasn't taken that long ago.”

He looked at the date, then met my gaze. “I’m sorry. It really doesn't look familiar.”

Releasing a deep sigh, I shook my head, then in a strained voice, said, “I don't believe you, Trevor.”

His nostrils flared. “Fine. Don't believe me. But I'm telling you the truth. I don't know who that is or where it was taken.”

I stared at him, speechless.

“Look,” he said with a frown. “I need to get back to work.”

Biting my lip to keep the tears from starting afresh, I shook my head as I turned away from him and walked out the door. As I opened my car door, I glanced toward the shop, hoping he would come running out with an explanation.

But he didn’t, and I drove slowly home, devastated by his lack of trust in me.

Why won't he tell me about the picture? What is he hiding?

I
stared
at my tear-streaked face in the bathroom mirror.

The one person I thought I could count on has failed me.

An image of Trevor’s face as he refused to tell me what he knew filled my mind, and I squeezed my eyes closed, forcing down the disappointment that threatened to overwhelm me. I took several deep breaths until I’d gotten my emotions under control, then I splashed cold water on my face, toweled my skin dry, and went into the kitchen to take two aspirin.

Maybe Alyssa's right. Maybe Trevor’s wrong for me.

That thought was immediately replaced by another.

No. I love him. And he loves me. He'll tell me the truth if I give him time.

I stared at the kitchen cabinets as a question pushed its way into my brain.

How much time will he need?

The headache that had bloomed inside my skull throbbed, and I swallowed two aspirin and gulped down the glass of water. Then, not wanting to think about Trevor any longer, I went into my bedroom, pulled out one of my textbooks, and began a reading assignment. Ten minutes later I’d reread the same paragraph over and over without taking in a word. I gave up and put the book back on my desk.

Maybe I should go online and look for a new place to live.

A few moments later I’d pulled up the school’s website and navigated to the housing section. It didn’t take long to find some places that seemed promising. I called the numbers listed in the ads and arranged to look at two of them right away.

The idea of having my own place excited me and I left the apartment to check them out.

The first one was in a basement and wasn't too bad, except that I would have to share the kitchen with the other tenants. I didn't like that idea—that was part of the problem I was having already.

The second unit held more promise. It was also in a basement, but it was a one bedroom apartment with its own kitchen. It was a walkout basement, so I would have my own entrance. And it came furnished.

“I like it,” I told the woman showing me the place.

“I've had several people express an interest,” the woman said as she adjusted one of the curlers in her hair. “But it's available now and they can't move in for a couple more weeks. What about you?”

“I can move in right away.” I hoped that would give me an edge. I'd already paid rent through the end of the month, and I would have to find someone to take over my rental contract, but it was worth the loss of money to get this place. It seemed perfect.

“Okay. Just fill out this application and I'll give you a call when I decide.”

“Can I fill it out now?” I didn’t want to let the place get away.

The woman studied my face. “Are you a student?”

“Yes, I am. And I promise, I'm very responsible.”

The woman smiled for the first time. “Okay, then. Go ahead and fill it out.”

I quickly filled in the information before handing it back to the woman. “When do you think you'll know if I'm chosen?”

“I'm losing money on it every day it's empty. I'll call by tomorrow.”

“Great!” I said, trying to think positively. “I have classes in the morning, but you can leave a message on my cell phone.”

The woman smiled. “I'll let you know.”

I thanked her before driving home.

When I walked into the apartment and found Michelle and Nicole arguing about whose turn it was to clean the bathroom, I became even more excited at the idea of having my own place.

“Hey, guys?” I started.

They looked at me in surprise, apparently not hearing me come in. “Yeah?” Nicole said.

“I just wanted to let you know I'm moving out.”

That got their attention. “How come?” Michelle asked. “Are you and Trevor getting married or something?”

The mention of Trevor’s name brought a sharp sting to my heart. “No, I’ve just decided to get my own place. No offense, but I prefer living on my own.”

“Okay. Have you found another place yet?”

“Possibly. I'll find out tomorrow. My share of the rent's paid up till the end of the month. Do you know of anyone who could take over my contract?”

Michelle paused. “I might know someone. I’ll check with her and let you know.”

I smiled. “Great.” Then I went to my room for another attempt at my reading assignment. This time I was able to concentrate.

“
T
he place is
yours if you want it,” the landlady of the basement apartment said in the message she left on my phone the next day.

Elated, I deleted her message, then listened to the next one.

“Lily,” Trevor said. “I need to talk to you. When can we get together?”

With the two messages one after the other, and still upset with him for his refusal to tell me about the picture a stranger had left in my dresser, a wicked thought came to me.

What would he do if I moved and didn't tell him where I went?

The idea tantalized me. I had so few belongings, it would only take an hour to pack up and move it all to my new place.

As I packed my clothes into my suitcase, and the rest of my things into a couple of boxes, I thought about Trevor and his refusal to tell me about the picture.

How dare he compromise my safety by not telling me who was in the picture? Someone broke into my home and violated my privacy. He needs to learn a lesson in how it feels to be betrayed by someone he thought he trusted.

I shoved the last of my things into the box.

I won't tell him where I am—just for a few days. It's Thursday and we won't have class until Monday, so he probably won't run into me until then.

The idea gave me grim satisfaction.

That will teach him to value me.

As I pictured his face and imagined how he might feel in not knowing where I'd gone, guilt lanced through me. But I snuffed it out by remembering how
I’d felt when I’d discovered someone had been in my room—a stranger who clearly knew Trevor.

With a final look around my room, I mentally said good-bye, then I lugged my belongings to my car and drove to my new place—my very own place.

The woman had said she would leave the key under the doormat and come by later to collect the first month's rent and have me sign the paperwork.

Carrying my suitcase, I walked across the stone steps to my front door where I found the key under the mat as promised. It didn’t take long to bring in all of my things, and once I’d finished, I securely shut the door behind me and locked it, feeling safe in my new place knowing I wouldn’t have to depend on anyone else to keep things the way I wanted them.

My home would stay the way I desired.

With a smile on my face, I pulled the string next to the window, collapsing the blinds upwards and letting the sun shine in. Because it was a walkout basement, the front window was full-sized. A large tree took up most of the front yard, and even though the leaves were mostly gone, it was still lovely.

With my suitcase in hand, I went into my bedroom and set my sole piece of luggage on the bed, then glanced at the old, scratched-up dresser and night stand, then looked inside the closet.

Decent enough storage space.
I smiled.
And it’s all mine.

With the house built on a slope, the only window in the bedroom had a deep window well that didn’t let in much light. Regardless, the room was pleasant enough, and I decided I would brighten up the space by purchasing matching bedding and curtains.

I went into the living room and took a closer look around. A small desk sat along one wall, an ugly but comfortable couch was along another, and an old, but tiny, television rested on a cart. I didn't watch much TV, so I wasn't concerned about the poor TV.

A compact side table with a lamp was positioned beside the couch. I walked over to the lamp and turned it on.

Not very bright. I'll have to get a higher wattage bulb.

I took my notepad and pen out of my backpack and started to list the things I needed to buy. Though it would take some of my precious reserves to get the items I wanted, I was determined to make the place how I liked it. To make it my home.

It was my only home.

As I stood in the middle of the room, I thought about the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday and knew I'd be spending it here. I had nowhere else to go, and I had absolutely no family to spend it with. I was completely on my own. The thought made me inexplicably sad.

There was Dad’s house in Lovelock, but without him there, it was just a building. Eventually I would sell it, but I wasn’t ready to do that yet.

I was so grateful to my father for teaching me how to take care of myself, even though I’d had to learn those skills at an early age. While still in high school, I'd done all I could to make his life easier—he’d always come home from work so tired. At first I'd thought it wasn't fair that I had to do it all, but eventually I'd come to appreciate my independence. And then, once my father had become unable to take care of himself, my skills had been critical.

Pushing the sad thoughts aside, I went into the kitchen to see what I could find. The sink was chipped in a couple of places, and the oven needed to be cleaned, but there was plenty of counter space. I opened the cupboards, but they were completely empty. The dishes in the apartment I'd shared had all belonged to Michelle and Nicole—all of the things from my father's house were still in Lovelock.

There was a phone jack in the kitchen but no phone. Since I had my cell phone, there was no reason to get a land line, although I would need to get an Internet connection set up. As I was adding items to my list, a knock sounded at the door. Startled, I wondered who it could be until I remembered that the landlady was supposed to come by.

I hurried to the door and looked out the peephole. It was the woman from the day before. Maureen was her name, I recalled. I opened the door for her.

“I see you got my message,” Maureen said, dressed in sweats, but no curlers in her hair this time.

“Yes, please come in.” Maureen stepped through the door and I shut it behind her.

“I have the lease for you to sign.” She held out a piece of paper.

I read it over, signed it, then wrote a check for the deposit and first month’s rent.

“Thank you, Lily.” Maureen smiled warmly. “If you have any trouble, my number’s on your copy of the lease agreement. The phone line’s working, but if you want a land line you’ll need to put it in your name. The rest of the utilities are included in the rent.

“Okay. I was just going to use my cell phone, but that’s good to know. Thank you.”

Maureen left a moment later, and contentment in having my own place cascaded over me.

Checking to make sure the refrigerator was plugged in, I jotted down a few more things I needed to buy, then grabbed my purse and headed out the door, locking it behind me, secure in the knowledge that when I returned everything would be as I'd left it.