He Loves Me...He Loves You Not (7 page)

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.

He narrows his eyes. I study his body
language. He’s tense and wearing an agitated expression. His jaw
clenches, his lips form a straight line and there’s a hint of red
in the almond complexion. A spark of anger resides in his pale blue
eyes.

The smile fades from my lips and I scrunch my
eyebrows together. “What’s wrong?”

He glances around warily and runs a hand
through his reddish-brown hair. He doesn’t answer.

I start undressing him with my eyes. During
our time together I’ve memorized every inch of his body. The way
his muscles are defined and dip in at his hip bones. A tiny barely
visible birthmark that he has on the back of his right shoulder.
Even his belly button that protrudes outwardly just the slightest
bit.

“Look,” he snaps, keeping his deep, beautiful
voice that I’ve come to love low.

I quit fantasizing about him and stare at him
intensely.

“Henry, what are you doing?” Callie shouts
from across the hall.

He looks over his shoulder. “Riley has
Honor’s English before me. I’m just asking her a question about our
homework!”

“Hurry up!” Callie cries impatiently. “The
bell is going to ring!”

The students in the hall rush to their first
period classes and Henry cranes his head down. “I thought I told
you never to text me or call me during the day.”

I’m baffled. I don’t know what to say. Part
of me is trying to sift through my memories to figure out when this
conversation took place and if I remember it at all. The other part
of me is mad at him for being mad at me for something he shouldn’t
be mad about in the first place, if he cares about me or loves me
at all. He’s always saying how I’m the only one that matters. How
he misses me and has to see me. So the only word I can get out as
my thoughts continue to take over is, “Huh?”

“You know I’ve told you that.”

My heart is beating a million miles a minute.
The blood writhing in my veins is boiling. “I don’t think I
remember that conversation.” I hope he hears the anger in my
voice.

Rosa appears and pokes her head around
Henry’s right side. “Hey Ry, you coming?”

I hold my finger up and she disappears behind
Henry.

Henry waits, and then speaks. “Well, I do
remember that conversation. So maybe next time you should listen
when I’m talking to you.”

My fists are shaking as I clutch my folder
tightly, but before I can open my mouth to respond, he’s darting
across the hall, throwing his arm over Callie’s shoulder and
kissing her on the forehead. I watch them together twisted in a fit
of rage and agony and then I slam my locker door as hard as I
can.

“Whoa,” Rosa jumps to the side. “Easy.”

“What?” I bark at her.

“What’s your problem? And what the hell was
that about?”

I storm down the hall and Rosa struggles to
keep up. “Nothing. He was just asking me a question about
English.”

I can see Henry and Callie’s backs a few feet
in front of us. Rosa stares at Henry’s back and raises an eyebrow.
“Really? He seemed kinda pissed.”

Tears swell in my eyes and I look away from
her, briefly. I suck back the on-coming waterworks and exhale. “You
know Henry.”

She shakes her head. “It’s too bad someone
that damn beautiful has to be such a tool.”

What I really want to tell her is that he’s
not a tool. He’s deep, thoughtful, smart, and funny. I want to tell
her that he and I spent the entire summer together, staying up
until the early hours of the morning talking about our families,
school, and our plans after graduation, even our likes and
dislikes. More than anything, I want to tell her how he makes me
feel. I want to tell her that I love him and that he fills me up
with joy, pleasure, and hope. He makes me feel whole. Complete.

But I don’t tell her any of that.

I’m a steel trap, for
him
. He wants me
to stay quiet, to keep our relationship a secret, and I’m getting
sick of it.

Chapter 10

“
Love would never be a promise of a rose
garden unless it is showered with light of faith, water of
sincerity and air of passion.” ~ Author Unknown ~

During lunch I drown out the loud chatter and
get lost in a trance, staring at the tater tots on my burnt orange
tray.

Rosa waves her hand in front of my face.
“Earth to Riley.”

I don’t break concentration. My eyes zoom in
on one specific tater tot, and I study the divots in it that
connect it together. I’m thinking hard about Henry and our complex
relationship. I’m thinking about how much I love him and about how
much longer I can let our relationship go on this way.

Rosa shakes my tray and few tater tots roll
onto the floor. “Riley!”

I snap back to reality. “What?”

She looks at me puzzled. “Is there something
going on that you’re not telling me about?” She’s worried, I can
tell by the way her look softens.

“No. Why?”

“You’ve been acting weird all summer. I
thought you still might have been upset and distracted because of
everything that happened with your parents. But some days you seem
fine about that. So I wanna know what’s up and why you’re still
acting weird.”

I smile and take her hand. “Rose. I’m fine. I
swear. Thanks for being such a good friend.”

It sucks that I’m not. It sucks that I’m
selfish and want and need to keep everything involving my
relationship with Henry to myself.

Rosa shakes her head. “I’m worried about you,
Ry. You don’t return my calls or texts. And you seem so
distant.”

“Ro, I promise you—I”

The words catch in my throat as Henry’s voice
fills my ears. He brushes past our table with Callie. “I love you,
babe,” he tells her. Then he places a soft kiss on her cheek.

No. Those lips, those full and beautiful lips
belong to me. The same lips connected to his mouths that tell me
they miss me and how much they love me. The same soft lips that
have kissed every inch of me and leave me so hungry for just
another peck that I weep. I can’t handle this. I’m going to fall a
part. I’m going to cause a scene in the middle of the cafeteria. I
have to get out. I have to go somewhere. I can’t be around
them.

“What?” asks Rosa.

The room is spinning. I’m either losing my
mind or I’m about to be sick. I shoot up from my seat and I can’t
decide whether to scream out hysterically or throw up. “I don’t
feel so hot.”

My stomach twists and churns and I’m drenched
in sweat. I glare at Henry and he doesn’t notice me. Of course he
doesn’t notice me. I’m not her. I’m a fucked up fabrication, an
illusion of a relationship, a secretive affair. And for the first
time ever, I loathe him for making me feel this way.

I loathe him for always putting me
second.

“Are you okay, Ry?” Rosa starts to get up.
“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.”

I take one last look at Henry, and bolt from
the cafeteria.

The icy water from the faucet in the girl’s
bathroom eases the heat out of my body as I place my freezing hands
on my neck. I lift my head and wipe my tearstained cheeks. I let
out a long ragged breath. I’m calm. Well, I appear clam on the
outside, but on the inside I’m stuck in limbo and I feel like I’m
being pulled in numerous directions.

I hear Henry.
“Shhh. You know I love you,
but this is our secret.”

Next I hear Rosa.
“Ry, please tell me
what’s wrong.”

Lastly, I hear a blended voice—a mixture of
Callie’s voice and my own.
“He loves me….He loves you
not.”

I’m so confused and tortured. Who do I listen
to? What do I do?

Do I betray Henry, the boy I love? Even
though I’m furious with him, just saying his name in my head makes
my insides swirl. Or do I keep lying to my best friend and hope
that she’ll forgive when she eventually finds out what I’m keeping
from her? I know she’ll find out because I’m on the verge of
cracking. Breaking. Shattering. And I don’t care about the mess I
make at this point.

I’ve got to leave. I need to go home, to get
away from Henry, to get away from Callie and her sour face. And
Rosa and her fifty million questions. I want and need to be alone.
I want and need to figure out how I’m going to get rid of my
infection, my obsession, and my love for Henry.

Chapter 11

“
Love is a gross exaggeration of the
difference between one person and everybody else.” ~ George Bernard
Shaw ~

In the office, Mrs. Gephart, the petite,
elderly secretary greets me with a warm smile. “Riley, dear, what
can I do for you?”

Her voice is pleasant and soft and the sound
of it brings a half-smile to my lips. “Yeah, Mrs. Gephart, I’m not
feeling well. I need to call my Mom so I can get permission to go
home.”

“One second, dear.” Mrs. Gephart reaches
under the counter and pulls out a black rolodex. She hums a catchy
tune as she shuffles through the circular phonebook.

The interior of the office is bland and
bright. The white walls, white countertops, and pale carpeting,
makes me feel like I’m outdoors on a sunny day without my
sunglasses. My eyes sting and I close them as a migraine
materializes and throbs in my temples.

“Found it!” she squeals and the sound of her
raised voice makes my head throb harder.

I don’t open my eyes, but I hear her shuffle
across the carpet and then she dials my Mom’s number. The office
grows quiet for a moment. “Ah, yes, Mrs. Davis? Hi. This is Mrs.
Gephart at the school. I’m fine, thank you. Riley isn’t feeling
well. She’d like to go home, but we need permission from you first.
Sure. One sec. Riley?”

My eyes snap open. “Yeah?”

Mrs. Gephart places her hand over the
receiver. “Your mother would like to speak with you.” I walk to the
phone and Mrs. Gephart places it in my hand.

“Mom.”

“Riley, what’s wrong?”

I’m on the verge of tears and my voice
cracks. “Mom, I’m sick I want to go home.”

“Sweetheart, it’s only the second day of
school. How many classes do you have left today?”

“Three.”

“Three. Can’t you hang in there for the rest
of the day?”

I break out into full on hysterics. “Mom, I
just want to come home!” Mrs.Gephart hands me a tissue and I blow
my nose.

“Okay, sweetie, it’s okay. Put Mrs. Gephart
back on the phone.”

I hand the phone back to Mrs. Gephart.
“Thanks, Mrs. Davis. You have a good day, too. Uh huh. Bye.” She
hangs up the phone and I sniffle. My tears have stopped
momentarily, but I know it’s only a matter of time before they pick
back up again. Mrs. Gephart waddles over to me and pats me on the
back. “There, there, dear. You just go home, get some rest, and
feel better.”

I blow my nose again. “I will.” My throat
sounds clogged, like I just sucked down a jar full of honey.

Mrs. Gephart smiles. “Good. I’ll let the rest
of your teachers know you went home early.”

“Thank you.” I turn to leave and I stop when
Mrs. Gephart speaks. “Oh and honey, whoever he is, he’s not worth
your time.”

I nod and walk out of the office.

At my locker I remove the books I need to
take home and Mrs. Gephart’s last comment is still ringing in my
ears. Am I that obvious? Do I have the words ‘boy problems’
scribbled all over my face? If Mrs. Gephart has noticed, why hasn’t
Rosa? Or my mom? Or anyone else for that matter.

It’s the middle of seventh period and the
hall is abandoned. I’m glad. I don’t want to see anyone when I’m
looking so disheveled and I don’t want to answer any questions if
somebody asks me one.

My books thud as I continue stacking them on
top of one another and suddenly, I feel like I’m not alone. I stand
slowly and look over my shoulder and Henry is across from me at his
locker, propped up against it. “Where are you going?” he asks.

I ignore him and pick my books up off the
floor.

When I start walking he follows me down the
hall. “Riley, where are you going?”

Even though I want to answer him, I don’t. I
hum quietly, trying to drown out the sound of his voice. “Riley, if
this is about this morning, I’m sorry, but you—you know I
can’t…”

And then I snap. I’m wild, crazy and full of
emotion and I don’t care. I throw my books down and shove him.
“It’s not about this morning, it’s about, you! You’re so selfish!
And mean! Do you even know how I feel? Do you even care? Do you
know what it feels like to always come second? Do you know what
it’s like for me to watch you with her, her! Do you know what it’s
like when the one person you care about the most in the world
doesn’t acknowledge you? Or keeps you a secret. Do you know what
it’s like to feel like you’re being ripped in half? Well, do
you?”