He Loves Me...He Loves You Not (3 page)

“So you leave me so I can?”

Henry hops up onto the washer and sits next
to me. “Relax, Ry. If I thought something bad was going to happen
to you, I wouldn’t have left you.”

I roll my eyes. “How chivalrous.”

A wicked leer appears on his lips. “Somebody
is being difficult.”

We laugh. He knows me so well. He knows that
I always have to be the first to get my point across, that I hate
to be the first one to admit I’m wrong, that I hate gossip, and
broken promises. His eyes find mine. An intense glare and he’s
memorized every inch of me, inside and out.

He breaks out into a full on stare. I’m
blushing and inside I’m singing a chorus of praises for him, but
that chorus fades and is replaced with fear. “Henry?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going to happen to us?”

He scoots closer. “What do you mean?”

“I mean how long do you think this will
last?”

Closer and closer. “I guess that depends on a
lot of things.” He pulls me toward his chest and envelopes me in
his arms. I’m home. I feel like I belong here. I want to stay here,
in this moment, forever and ever. Blanketed by his arms, his soft,
tender touch, his smell, his mouth on mine.

“Depends on
her
?”

“Not necessarily.”

I’ve never asked him to break it off with his
girlfriend. I know that sounds silly. When our relationship began I
was attracted to him, but I wasn’t sure how deep my feelings for
him would become. I’d told myself that we would just be having
fun.

“Do you love me?” It’s a sincere question.
He’s told me he has before.

He doesn’t speak. Only nods.

“Do you tell her that you love her?”

Another nod.

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Love her?”

He shrugs and stares off blankly. “I used to.
I’m not sure how I feel about her anymore.”

I give him a questioning look. “Is that the
truth?”

His lips form a straight line and he gives me
a strange look. “What’s with the twenty questions? “

I take another sip of my beer. “I don’t know,
Henry. Sometimes I think about what we’re doing and how maybe we
shouldn’t.”

“Why would you say that?”

“What if eventually I become crazy? What if,
despite what I’ve said in the past, this really does get to me? I’m
already so involved.” I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it if
this ends badly.

Henry sets his cup down. He curls his fingers
around the nape of my neck. I look away, but he pulls me closer and
places his warm lips against my ear. “I need you,” he whispers. I
can’t fight him. I’m completely undone. My conscience slips away
from me. Tattered and torn lying in pieces on the floor. Another
whisper, “Let me love you. Let me worship you.”

He hops off the washer. Part of me is mad,
mostly at myself because I can’t tell him no. People say, you can
always say no, but those people don’t know Henry. Henry and his
magnetic gaze. Henry who oozes perfection with every brush of his
fingers,

every irresistible whisper, and every
mind-blowing kiss.

I’m not even drunk from the beer. I’m drunk
off of him. He digs his fingertips into my thigh and pulls me to
the edge of the dryer. Then crushes his mouth to mine.

As the tip of his tongue brushes against the
roof of my mouth, I’m seeing fireworks. An explosion of colors,
brilliant and beautiful. The explosions of beauty leave a trail of
colored smoke in the sky and a trail of colored smoke in my heart.
Red. Bright red. The color of passion. The color of love.

He pulls away. “Come back.” I’m panting. His
kisses knock the wind out of my lungs. I crave him, like chocolate.
I want to taste him.

My legs are wrapped around his back and he
places both of his hands on my cheeks and just stares. Two sets of
blue eyes, gazing intensely into one another’s. We’re gone.
Swimming in seas of blue on some deserted, uncharted island.

I’m fascinated. I can’t move. He’s a
hypnotist. One snap of his fingers and I’ll be clucking like a
chicken.

We’re both breathing, soft and slow. He
reaches up and yanks the hair-tie from my hair. “You don’t know
what you do to me.”

Then his lips caress mine. It’s only a brush,
but the warmth overheats every part of me. Leaning back, my elbow
bumps into the power button on the dryer and the old appliance
starts moving. Spinning. Spinning like my head. Like my heart.

My hands are in his hair and his arms wrap
around my waist tighter. I know what Henry does to me. I’m space
bound. A rocket about to blast off. And all I want is for Henry to
send me to the moon.

Chapter 4

“
For it was not into my ear you whispered,
but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed. It was my soul.”~
Judy Garland ~

I’ve had other boyfriends. Even though I
can’t really call Henry my boyfriend, none of the boys I’ve dated
in the past have made me feel the way he does.

Tomorrow is the first day of school. My last
year. And I’m dreading it.

I’m sitting in the kitchen and I chew my
cornflakes mechanically as I stare at the crème walls. Mom takes a
seat next to me and the sound of her coffee cup clinking against
the table snaps me to attention. She takes the folded newspaper to
her right and spreads it open. She doesn’t look at me, but strikes
up a conversation. “Any plans for today? It’s your last day of
summer.”

“Ugh,” I growl. “Don’t remind me.” I shovel
another spoonful of cornflakes into my mouth. “Hey, Mooom?”

“You swallow that mouthful of food first,”
she tells me. “You’re mumbling.”

Mumbling schmumbling. I chew the remainder of
my breakfast and swallow. “Do you think I can have some money?”

“For?” There’s and edge to her voice, she
doesn’t look at me. The article about the housing market in the
paper seems more interesting.

“I need to get a few more things for
school.”

“But you got all kinds of new school
clothes.”

Clothes that she picked out. We don’t really
have the same kind of taste. She’s frillier—more girly. I’m more
simple and casual. I didn’t say anything at the time. I just let
her buy me the clothes because she took me on the mother-daughter
shopping trip right after dad moved and I figured she’d had enough
drama over the last few months. Why create more? And the look on
her face when I actually let her buy me dresses and pink lacey tops
and jewelry warmed my heart. She was so happy—excited. It was the
first time I’d seen her like that since I was a child.

“I know,” I say. “I just need a few minor
things. Like a couple tank tops.”

“Oh.” She stands and fetches her purse from
the counter. “Okay, sweetheart.” She sits back down and pulls out
her wallet and hands me a hundred dollar bill. “Is that
enough?”

“That’s plenty, mom. I’ll probably have
change.”

“Just keep it. You’ll probably need lunch
money for the rest of the week.”

“Yeah.” Packing your lunch stopped being cool
in elementary school.

****

Rosa honks her horn from my driveway. “Later,
mom!” I’m hanging half-way out the door. “I’ll be home in a few
hours.”

“Bye, honey! Have fun!”

Meh. Fun. I’m not exactly a shopping kind of
girl. I like thrift stores and vintage tees. The mall isn’t my
scene, but I did eye these awesome ripped jeans in the window of
Hollister at the beginning of the summer. Hopefully they still have
them. And hopefully they are on sale.

Rosa reaches over and opens the passenger
door. She has a 1963 VW bug that her father restored. It’s lime
green. We call the small German masterpiece the booger. Sometimes
the door handle sticks on the outside so Rosa always has to reach
across and open it for me whenever she drives anywhere.

I climb into the car, close the door, and
fasten my seatbelt.

“Dude,” Rosa gasps. “How crazy was last
night?”

So crazy. So hot. So amazing.“It was
something.”

She puts the booger in reverse and backs out
of my driveway. “You never texted me back.”

“Sorry, but I was too busy wondering when or
if I was going to get arrested.” I was also too pre-occupied with
Henry.

“So what ended up happening?”

Henry and I had a moment on a dryer. I’m
blushing and I don’t say that out loud. In fact we had several
moments on the dryer. “I hid in the field behind the house until
the cops left.”

“Oh that sucks.”

“Tell me about it. This morning I was picking
pieces of dead grass out of my hair.” Actually, Henry picked them
out last night while he was holding me. God, I’m getting really
good at lying and making it believable. “Do you know who called the
cops?”

“Farrah Cuppler’s mom. Damn it, some jackass
brought her home and left her passed out in her front yard.” Rosa
turns right and enters the freeway on ramp. “There’s always one
person who ruins it for everybody.”

“Very true.”

“Now we’re going to have to find a new place
to go.”

Rosa swerves into the oncoming traffic and
semi-truck almost smacks into us. I flinch and lean toward the
window. The truck driver lays on his horn and Rosa gives him a
nasty look and flicks him off. “Up yours asshole!” She’s the worst
driver ever and that’s why most of the time either I drive or she
meets me whenever we make plans.

She looks at me incredulously. “Do you
believe that guy?”

I don’t answer. I just shake my head.

After I’ve escaped death twice today, with
Rosa’s bad driving and road rage, she adds three to that equation
when she cuts in front of a mini-van and steals their parking spot.
“Oops,” she says to the angry woman as she exits the driver’s
side.

“You saw me waiting for that!” the woman
shouts.

Rosa furrows her brow and wears a fake
apologetic smile. “No, I didn’t, sorry.”

I wait until we get to the entrance before I
start laughing. “You’re hilarious. You know that?”

Her mouth hangs open. “What?” She shakes her
head. “Don’t even start. You know I’m going to start a petition
where once you reach a certain age; you have to re-take your
driver’s test. Those old farts can’t drive worth a damn!”

I nod, but what I really want to tell her is
neither can you. Whichever instructor rode with her on that fateful
day of her driving exam, well, I sure as hell hope somebody canned
them already.

Upon stepping through the entrance, we’re
instantly pushing and shoving our way through a crowd. Somebody
steps on my toes and I turn to the side and get elbowed in the gut.
By the time I make it through the mass of bodies I feel like I’ve
been trampled on by a herd of cattle.

Rosa stands off to the side with her arms
folded across her chest and she’s tapping her foot impatiently. My
eye brows go up. “How did you get through that so fast?”

We start walking and she shrugs. “I pushed
them back. When you start getting physical people move.”

She’s so brash. Sometime I wish I could be
like that. “So where do you want to go, first?”

“Forever.” Meaning
Forever 21.

“Cool. I’m down with that.”

The brightness of the white walls, white
floors, and spotlights stun my eyes as we walk through the entrance
of Forever 21. It’s a haven for teenage girls and the modern, yet
contemporary store is filled with them. Squealing. Chatting.
Gossiping. Holding up shirts and asking each other’s opinions. A
super tan brunette holds up a purple halter. “Do you think this
will look cute on me?”

Her friend tsks, “Of course, Jessica,
totally.”

Music blares from the hanging over head
speakers. A techno version of
Baby One More Time
. I turn to
Rosa. “I’m gonna go check out the accessories.”

“Cool. I’ll be in the back, skimming the sale
rack.”

The accessories are majorly picked over and I
browse through the rack of belts looking for a studded one to go
with the jeans I plan on buying. Nothing catches my eye. Maybe
Buckle
will have some?

I sift through the bin of headbands and I
feel like someone’s watching me. I lift my eyes slowly and see the
blurry outline of a body in the mirror. I spin around and almost
smack into Rosa. “Holy shit!” I exhale and the mountain of clothes
in her arms fall to the floor.

“Geez!” she snaps. “Holy hell in a hand
basket, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry,” I gush as I lean down to pick up
her clothes. “I had this creepy feeling like someone was watching
me.”

She leans down and helps. “There are tons of
people in the store. You need to chill. It was probably just
someone looking at clothes behind you or something.”

“You’re right.”

She looks at my empty hands. “You didn’t find
anything?”