Love Me Like You Do: Books That Keep You In Bed

by Fields, MJ

  Afterward, we walk back out front to sit at the tables to enjoy the early summer night. With his back to the front door, I notice a younger teenage boy walk in, eyeing Trevin and turning to his mom when he figures out who he’s truly looking at. I love watching the amazement in people’s eyes when they look at him in absolute awe—it’s the same feeling I have when I see him, but I know it’s in a different way.

  Even though Trevin is talking about his upcoming tour, I can’t take my eyes off the kid. I can tell he’s struggling—wanting to approach Trevin but too scared to do so. I can’t hide the smile on my face anymore, and finally, Trevin turns around to see what I’ve been staring at this entire time.

  When he sees the young boy staring, he smiles and waves him over. The excitement and surprise that flashes on the kid’s face makes me let out a loud laugh. He freezes, pointing to himself and saying, “Are you talking to me?”

  Trevin laughs and says, “Yeah, come here. What’s your name?”

  The boy jumps and walks toward Trevin, taking a deep breath and obviously trying to hide his nerves. “I’m…I’m Thomas. You’re Trevin, aren’t you?”

  “Sure am. Here”—he pulls a chair from the table next to us over to our table—“have a seat with us.”

  Again, the look on his face is priceless. I love when Trevin does this. Any chance he gets to talk to kids who are obvious fans, he does. He says he does it because he remembers when he was in their shoes and what he would have given to meet some of his favorite band members. Honestly, I think he loves it just as much as the fans.

  “Oh, man. Wow…I mean, thanks, man.” The poor kid fumbles around, grabbing his seat and stumbling on what he should say.

  “This is my best friend, Lily Pad,” Trevin says with a wink.

  “I’m Lily, nice to meet you, Thomas,” I respond but he’s not interested in me, so I lean back in my chair, letting Trevin and his fan have their moment. They discuss the band’s new album and how this kid plays the guitar, hoping to be as good as Trevin someday.

  This right here is what I love about Trevin.

  He has such a big heart, just like his mom did. Take away his silly, crazy antics and this is what you get. A man who remembers what it was like to be a fan and always wanting to do the right thing, only because he knows it’s right. Not because he’s trying to prove a point or make some cover of a magazine. No matter how famous he gets, he’s still himself deep down, and I know Julie would be so proud of him now.

  How will any guy I date ever compare to him? How could they? He’s truly one of a kind.

  My kind.

  “Okay, Thomas.” His mom walks over, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s leave this gentleman alone so he can get back to his night with his girlfriend.”

  Trevin winks in my direction before looking up to the woman. “Really, it’s no trouble at all. I was him a few years ago.”

  “Can I get a picture with you, Trevin?” Thomas asks.

  “Of course!” Trevin happily gets up as the boy’s mom pulls out her phone to take a photo. The smile stretching far across Thomas’s face is contagious, and I can’t help but grin at our new friend. Trevin’s face is what gets me the most—he has the same smile spreading wide, from ear to ear. And my heart melts even more.

  Thomas leaves and Trevin turns his attention back to me. “What’s that smile for?”

  “I just love watching you with fans.”

  “What? That kid was cool,” he says in defense.

  I laugh as I pop my favorite bite in my mouth and savor the flavor, letting out a subtle moan of satisfaction in the process.

  When I come back from my trance I notice Trevin laughing at my little show. “Now that’s getting some ice cream.”

  “Stop.” I hit his arm. “Besides, I tried that earlier and you stopped me, remember? I have to get pleasure elsewhere now.”

  “Hey, I can fix that very easily,” he teases.

  “Just get in the car.” I laugh.

  Instead of heading straight home, Trevin turns the opposite direction, heading for Highway 1 to drive around and enjoy the coast with the music blaring through the speakers. The radio station’s having an old-school night, so when Paul Revere by the Beastie Boys comes on, we jump at the chance to turn it up, singing, “Now here’s a little story…”

  Both of us spit the lyrics without missing a beat, and I can’t help but laugh when Trevin raps about a wiffle ball bat with spirited motions right before an overly animated, “Sooooo.”

  By the end of the song, my cheeks hurt from smiling and my voice cracks from singing so loud. It’s been years since we sang like that, and he’s the only person I would ever dare show that side of me. It feels good and I wish I could be free like this more often.

  I look up to see the light of the moon illuminating the break in the waves against large rocks on the shore. When Trevin spots a turnout in the road, he pulls over, turning off his lights but leaving the radio loud so we can hear it as we get out of the car to enjoy the view.

  Thoughts of how different my night turned out than when it started cross my mind, but knowing there is nowhere else I’d rather be puts nothing but a smile in my heart.

  When I reach the front of Trevin’s car where he’s already sitting, I can’t hide the happiness seeping out of me, and the look on his face makes it better.

  We lean against his car, sitting in silence that’s more comfortable than it would be if I were here by myself. When his hand reaches for mine, entangling our fingers together, it just makes my night even more perfect.

  No crazy ideas run through my mind from his motion, though. This is us. We’ll sit like this on the couch, watching TV or him listening to music while I study. The night is no different than any other until the radio starts to play Bush’s Glycerine.

  Thoughts of our first kiss run through my mind. When his fingers start to stroke the back of my hand, holding it slightly tighter, I know the same memories are entering his, too. For the first time in a long while, I allow myself to remember what his lips felt like that night. The moment he got up to move onto my bed and I stopped him, kicking myself for years afterward for doing so.

  I wanted him so badly that night. The first time his lips met with mine, I felt everything in my body light up in a way I’ve never thought possible. I said his name in desire, a deep need that overwhelmed my senses, but he took it the wrong way, instantly getting up and leaving my house without looking back.

  I tried to tell him to come back, that I wanted more, but he apologized first, acting like it was a mistake, so I pushed my thoughts aside, trying to ignore the growing feelings I had for my best friend for years to come.

  But now here we are. Back to the same feelings with the same damn song. Suddenly, I feel like I’m fourteen again, and my heart is beating so strong I’m surprised he doesn’t feel the beat running through my veins.

  When his thumb grazes mine, I glance down before looking up at him. Through the moonlit night, I see the same young boy I met so many years ago, only now I see the man I always knew he’d be. His light stubble covers his hard jawline and his eyes darken as they take me in with the same look of confusion, fear, and desire I know I have written all over my face.

  An urge I’ve never felt threatens to deprive me of the air I need. When my tongue nervously slips out to lick my suddenly dry lips, I watch as his eyes follow every centimeter I cover, parting his in response. My head fights with my heart when I feel his body get closer to mine, pulling me into him with a force I can’t deny. Our eyes meet once again, both silently asking if this is smart, if we want the same thing, if it’s worth the risk, if it’s the right time. Neither of us willing to move forward but not willing to stop this force pushing us together.

  I feel his breath on me, mere centimeters away, so I lick my lips one more time right when an obnoxious tone fills the silence around us. We both jump when we realize the phone in his pocket broke the trance the moon had put on us.

  Like nothing ev
er happened, we both part, moving to our separate spaces. He answers the phone and I take a deep breath, trying to fill every raging nerve in my body with calming air.

  “Yeah, Arnie, I’m here with Lily, what’s up?” Trevin says into the phone, looking down and kicking the dirt and rocks slightly.

  There’s silence for a while, so I look up to Trevin now staring at me. The blankness overtaking every part of him worries me to my core.

  Instantly I rush to him. “What’s wrong?”

  He blinks away his thoughts. “Okay. Thanks for the call,” he says and hangs up.

  “Trevin, what is it?”

  He moves away from me and walks to the edge of the cliff. Opening his arms wide, he lets out a deep yell that comes from his toes. The sound reverberates off the shoreline and bounces back through the hills around us, replaying his anguish. I can tell it cleanses his soul, but a fear rips through me and I need to know what just happened.

  Reaching down to his feet, he picks up a handful of rocks and starts to throw them one at a time with every ounce of energy he has into the ocean, cursing under his breath with every thrust of his arm. He bends down for more rocks but instead falls to his knees.

  With trepidation, I walk toward him, keeping silent until he’s ready for me.

  His hands run from the back of his head to his front, grabbing at his hair over and over again as he grunts his frustration more to himself than to me or the ocean.

  I dare to approach a little closer and wait until he sits back in a normal position with his arms resting on his legs and his head down. Cautiously, I wrap my arms around his, putting my head on his shoulder, waiting silently for him to fill me in.

  Fighting his inner battle, he calms his breathing, letting out a fuck under his breath before resting his head against mine.

  “What happened, Trev?” I whisper, rubbing my hand against his.

  “It’s my dad. He…” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “He died of liver failure.” His voice cracks when he admits the truth, and I know telling me what happened has ripped his heart back open.

  “When?” I ask.

  “This morning. He’s been in the hospital for a few days, though.”

  I knew his dad had reached out a few times, but Trevin didn’t want anything to do with him. Now I wonder if he knew how serious it really was. The way he’s reacting to the news proves he’s struggling with that decision.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, leaning down, trying to look into his eyes.

  He blinks away a tear. “Yes… No… Fuck, I don’t know.”

  “It’s okay, Trev. I get it. He was still your dad.”

  “But was he? I remember him as the asshole who caused my mother’s death, who made my life a living hell…who bought me a hooker for my sixteenth birthday.” I can’t help but flinch in surprise, causing him to laugh. “Yeah, never told you that one. Don’t worry.” His lips show a hint of a smile, as he nudges my body with his. “I didn’t do what you think. I promise you were my first.”

  My body goes from sad to nervous in a matter of seconds. After the moment we shared just before his phone rang, hearing his dad died, then talking about our past together, I feel like things have been thrown out like a game of fifty-two card pickup and I’m frantically searching for the ace of hearts.

  Trying to bring things back to what’s important, I ask, “So what now? Do you know if he wants to be buried or cremated? Did he have a will?”

  He laughs in irritation. “I have no clue. I know I should care, but I’m not sure if I do. I told Arnie to just deal with it, do the bare minimum and move on.”

  I hold his arm tighter. “Are you sure?”

  “Right now…yeah. That’s all he deserves, and he’s lucky he’s getting that. Arnie said he’d get back to me when he hears anything about the will. Then there’s the house and his stuff.” He shakes his head. “I leave on tour in just a few days. I can’t deal with all this now.”

  “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll help. My mom’s been bugging me to come visit. Now that I’m boyfriend-less…” I jab him in the side, teasing him. “…and you’re leaving, I guess I can head home to sort things out for you.”

  He looks my way, nothing but seriousness showing in his eyes. “I’d like that a lot, Lily.”

  I give him a small smile and rest my head on his shoulder, doing the same thing I’ve always done. I hold on to him tighter, praying he knows I’m here. I’ll always be here for him.

  * * *

  The familiar sound of Trevin’s ringtone sings through my room. “You miss me already?” I answer. He’s only been on the road for three hours, so I’m surprised to see him calling already.

  “You know it.” I can only imagine the smirk covering his face right now. “But I just heard about the will. Turns out he left me everything.”

  “Okay, so what now?”

  “I sell it all. I don't want any of it.”

  “But Trev, it’s your family—”

  “Hear me out.” He cuts me off. “I have an idea. An idea that I know would make my mom happy. What should have been done with her life insurance money years ago.”

  He pauses for dramatic effect and I laugh. “So…tell me!” I yell.

  “I’ve hired a company to sell it all and I’m forming a foundation in her name to pay for dance classes and music lessons for any child back home who can’t afford it.”

  The excitement in his voice melts my heart and my eyes fill with tears, waiting to spill over. “Trevin. Your mom would have loved that.”

  He doesn’t say anything but I know he’s looking up to the sky, mouthing his words to his mom like I’ve seen him do many times before.

  “So do you think you can still help? I’ll book you a flight so you can meet the realtor and get things situated.”

  “Of course, you know I’d love to.”

  “Okay, good. Before you sell it though, will you look through and just make sure nothing of mine or my mom’s is sold? Just box it up and put it in storage. I’ll get to it eventually.” He laughs, knowing he’ll probably never get to it, but I get it.

  “No problem. And hey, I’m really loving this idea.”

  He pauses for a moment. “Me too,” he says quietly. “I’ve got to go, though. I’ll call you later?”

  “I’ll be here. Be good, Trev.”

  He laughs. “Bye, Lilies.”

  * * *

  A few days later, I’m walking off the escalator from the passenger only area of the airport when I see my mom bouncing up and down.

  “Ahhhh, my baby’s home!” she squeals.

  Being the only child can be exhausting sometimes. I saw her a few months ago, but my mom acts like it’s been years.

  “Is it bad that I’m happy you’re here, even though it’s under such bad circumstances?” she teases, whispering under her breath like she doesn’t want someone to hear that Trevin’s dad passing away has brought her some sort of happiness.

  They’ve lived with him as their neighbor for years now, so there’s no having to explain Trevin’s feelings or even their thoughts about the situation. We all know the truth, even though none of us are saying it. We can’t deny that we’re somewhat happy he’s finally gone from our lives.

  After spending some time with my mom and dad, I decide to walk over to Trevin’s childhood home. I opted to go by myself, even though my mom offered over and over again to go with me. This was something I wanted to do on my own.

  So many memories fly through my head as I walk up to the front door. Visions of Julie smiling brightly every time she would greet me fill my heart with happiness, knowing her memory will forever be ingrained in this community with this foundation.

  A time warp enters my vision and I’m brought back to being fifteen years old. Not much has changed to the place except the cleanliness of it. Grime covers what used to be cherrywood coffee tables, and the kitchen Julie once took pride in looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years. Quickly noticing that nothing in this
portion of the house will be salvageable, I turn to go upstairs and head for Trevin’s room.

  Upon opening the door, I can tell this is the first time in years anyone has done so. The room still is everything Trevin. From the posters on the wall to his school notebook open wide with a pencil on top of it.

  When I glance at the notebook, my heart skips a beat. I see the beginnings of a poem that was never finished with the title, When I Was Eight written big across the top and underlined twice.

  I pick it up to read it closer:

  When I was eight she walked into my life

  The little shy girl who didn’t know how to ride

  One day I’ll make her my wife

  My love for her I’ll never have to hide

  She holds my heart,

  The only reason I’m still here

  From her I could never be apart

  As my life would be nothing but fear

  So until then I’ll wait

  Until then I’ll love from the inside

  I know what’s in our fate

  When our worlds will finally collide

  Memories of the night he left swarm my head, hitting me so hard I have to sit back on his bed, remembering every touch, every kiss, every emotion. When I look to the left, I see a box sitting under his bed that’s slightly exposed. I reach underneath to grab it and pull it up to the bed.

  There’s nothing that could have prepared me for this, and tears start to fall instantly when I see the box that’s dedicated to me. To us. To everything we have been to each other. In the box is every note I wrote him, pictures of us through the years, the matching walkie-talkie to mine that’s still across the yard in my room. Fliers from my dance recitals, and pictures of my name along with Lilies hand drawn in a million different ways on scratch pieces of paper to entire sheets filling every inch.

  If I ever questioned Trevin’s true feelings for me, I have no doubt now, and I know I feel the same way. I always have. One day, I hope we’ll find the right time where we can be together. Till then, I’ll keep his secret close to my heart.