Love Struck

by Amber Garza

  “I missed you too,” she whispers against my mouth. “I missed you more than I thought possible. I wanted to text you that. I should have.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I draw back, my head hitting the wall.

  “It’s complicated.”

  I circle my hand around her arm. “Don’t do that. You can’t keep giving me these mixed signals. I’ve been honest with you about where I stand. Now you need to do the same for me.”

  “You want the truth?” She peers up at me, open and vulnerable.

  I nod, even though I’m not sure that I do now. What if the truth is that she doesn’t want to be with me? Can I really handle that?

  “The truth is that I want to be with you. I want to be with you like I’ve never wanted to be with anyone in my entire life.” Her voice wavers, and I hold my breath. “No one has ever made me feel like you do. And no one has ever treated me the way you do. I missed you like crazy at Christmas. I missed you so much it scared me.” Her gaze drops to the floor. “I don’t know if I can do this. I wasn’t expecting to feel like this.”

  “What are you talking about? What can’t you do?” I tuck my finger under her chin. “Look at me, Lola. Talk to me.”

  She bobs her head up and her lips quiver. I catch the traces of moisture in her eyes. A stilted laugh escapes through her red lips. “Can’t we just go back to joking about red lipstick addiction or something? This is seriously depressing.” Fluttering her lashes, she tilts her head up to meet mine. Her hands rake up and down my chest, exploring every inch of my bare flesh. “You look so sexy in your boxers. Just kiss me.”

  “Oh, God, Lola.” I push her away from me, a low growl erupting from my throat. There is literally nothing I want more than to kiss her. I would give anything to feel her lips on mine, to lose myself in her caress, in her touch. But we need to talk. I can’t let her keep playing with my emotions like this. “Either tell me what’s going on or just leave.” I’m unable to look at her when I say these words. Staring at my shadow on the wall, I pray she doesn’t leave. I pray that she stays. I pray we can work things out.

  “Okay, have it your way. We’ll talk.”

  Apparently my prayers are working today.

  The springs on my bed creak as Lola sinks down onto it. She stares at her slender fingers as she plays with them in her lap. “You don’t know what it’s like for me when I go back home.”

  I kneel in front of her, picking up her hands. “Then tell me. I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out. I’m here for you, beautiful.”

  Her gaze locks with mine. “My mom isn’t like yours. She’s not sweet, and she doesn’t bake me things and cook me special dinners. She…” her voice trails off and she bites her lip.

  “She what?” I thread her fingers through mine, rubbing my fingertips over her skin.

  “She has high expectations for me and my sister. Actually, both she and my dad do. And she’s very critical of me.” Lola sighs. “It’s like no matter how hard I try I will never be good enough for her.”

  I squeeze her fingers. “I’m sorry.”

  She shakes her head at my words. “I don’t want you to pity me. That’s the reason I never talk about it. I mean, I’m lucky, right? I was raised with money and my parents buy me anything I want.”

  “Money isn’t everything, Lola. Trust me. I know. We’ve never had any, and yet I’ve always been happy with my life.”

  Lola studies me intently for a minute. “I finally told my mom about you.”

  “Oh? And what did she say?” My heart picks up speed.

  A groan tears from Lola’s throat. “She doesn’t understand. She just trivialized what we have. Then she tried to push me off on a different guy – the son of one of my dad’s friends. He’s pre-med.”

  This causes my stomach to knot. I drop her hand and stand up. “Oh. I see.”

  Lola hops off the bed and comes up behind me. “But I don’t want to be with him. I want to be with you, Ryker.”

  “Were you with him when I texted you?” My shoulders tense.

  Her lack of response tells me all I need to know.

  “So, you were hanging out with this guy your parents want you to be with and you couldn’t bother to text me back?” I whirl around to face her.

  Her lips tremble. “I was just confused. I get like that around my parents. I just want so badly to please them, I guess.”

  “What is it that you want, Lola?” I pin her with a challenging stare.

  “You,” she says simply.

  I want to leave it at that. I want to cling to that simple declaration, but all I can think about is the fact that she was with another guy, and couldn’t be bothered to return my text. Visions of Fiona with Beckett come to mind and I shake them back. Only they won’t leave. They linger in my mind, sticking to the edges and taunting me. I can’t do it again. I just can’t.

  “You have a funny way of showing it,” I say finally.

  Lola’s face drops. I want to feel sorry for her, but at this moment I’m in self preservation mode.

  “I think you should go.”

  “What?” Her eyes widen.

  “Yeah, go call Mr. Pre-med. Whatever. I don’t care.”

  She shakes her head, confusion littering her face. “I don’t understand. Why are you being so cruel?”

  I chuckle bitterly. “I’m being cruel? You spend Christmas with another guy and don’t bother to text me back and I’m being cruel? Clearly you need to invest in a dictionary because you don’t know the definition of the word cruel.”

  “Fine,” her voice is soft, hurt. It almost breaks me. “I’ll go.” She stalks out of the room without looking back.

  I think about Lola all night, feeling bad about the way things ended. But I’m also kind of proud, and I know I did the right thing. With Fiona I was always the one who backed down and apologized, even when she was in the wrong. I don’t want to do that with Lola.

  Pierce is gone for the evening so I watch mindless TV and then hit the sack early. The minute my head hits the pillow a knock on the door startles me. I pull on a t-shirt over my boxers and head to the front door. I open it to find Lola standing there.

  Leaning against the doorframe I glance down at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came here to say I’m sorry.”

  “Is that it?” I raise a brow, still leaning against the doorframe.

  “Look, I screwed up, okay? But I thought about you the whole time I was gone, and I couldn’t wait to see you again. When you threw me out earlier it killed me. I know I want to be with you. I’m sure of it. You’re the guy for me, Ryker. No matter what anyone else says.”

  “How do we do that, Lola?”

  “What do you mean?” She appears startled by the question.

  “I mean, how do we make this work if every time we’re apart you question your feelings for me?”

  Lola bites her bottom lip, red lipstick coating her front teeth. “I don’t question my feelings for you.” She sighs. “I never doubt you. I doubt myself. My parents just get my head all screwed up.” She reaches for me. “But I’ll work on it. For you I’ll do that. I want to be with you. I’m certain of it.”

  I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me, knowing I don’t need to hear anymore. What she said is good enough for me. “God, I missed you, beautiful.”

  “I missed you too.”

  “Come in.” I pull her inside and close the door. Tilting my head, I lean in close to her face.

  “You want your fix now, huh?” She raises her brows.

  I laugh. “You know it.”

  She laughs too, but I still see traces of sadness in her eyes. Something has changed about her during her trip home this time. I just hope my love is enough to fix it.

  We’re out celebrating the fact that Lola finished her first semester of college, and I’m entering my last semester of college. The latter is a little bittersweet for me. I take Lola to one of my favorite pubs and we both order a massive plate of fis
h and chips.

  Lola bites into hers and lets out a little moan that causes my skin to prickle. When she sets down the battered fish, she wipes her hand on the napkin in her lap. “You know, this is where Star and I went to eat the night you first asked me out.”

  “Really?” I raise an eyebrow, wiping my napkin across my greasy lips. Plates clang from inside the kitchen next to us, and a guy chuckles loudly from the booth behind us.

  “Yeah. While we were walking back to the car Star heard Beckett singing and so she begged me to go inside the club to listen.”

  “So, it’s Star that I should thank for that night, huh?”

  Lola picks up a french fry and dips it in ketchup. “Oh, I think we would’ve ended up dating regardless.”

  This little admission surprises me. “Do you believe in fate?”

  “No.” She laughs like it’s the most absurd thing in the world, which is what I expected. I would’ve been more shocked if she had said she did. Lola is practical to a fault.

  “Then how can you be so sure that we would’ve ended up dating if not for fate?”

  She chews and then swallows, her forehead a mess of squiggly lines as if in deep thought. “I don’t know. I guess I just figure that it’s the way things were supposed to happen. I mean, look at Star and Beckett. I think she was always supposed to end up in your band, so it stands to reason that we would’ve seen each other again after the first night we met.”

  “So…like fate,” I prod. A couple walks past our table, their fingers intertwined. His overpowering cologne lingers long after they’re gone.

  She huffs. “Okay, so maybe it does sound like fate. Not that I believe in that exactly, but it does sort of seem like everything worked out the way it should.”

  “Yes, it does.” I smile, satisfied that her little admission means I’m getting somewhere with her. Her views are starting to change, even if it’s a little like pulling teeth to get her to admit it.

  “Oh, God, I’m so stuffed.” Lola pushes her plate away and rubs her belly. “I can’t believe I finished that whole plate.” She grimaces.

  I laugh. “It doesn’t matter how much you eat. You always look incredible.”

  She smiles, but something about it looks forced and so unlike her usual smiles. Before I can ask her what’s up, she stands. “Excuse me just a minute. Gotta use the little girl’s room.” She winks before scurrying off.

  I take a sip from my soda and glance around the loud pub. After several minutes Lola still hasn’t returned, so I wave the waiter down and get our check. Uneasiness settles into my stomach when I think back on the last few times we’ve eaten together. Every time she’s headed to the bathroom and been gone longer than usual. I tell myself that it means nothing and that I’m just being paranoid. She’s a girl, right? She’s probably just fixing her makeup or hair or something. Yes, that’s gotta be it. Lola is pretty high maintenance. Beckett jokes with me about it all the time. I have finished paying and our table has been cleared by the time Lola returns. Her face is a little flushed.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “ Yeah, fine.” Her voice is tight, her hands quiver slightly.

  I glance up at her face, noticing that her lipstick is smudged, her hair a little mussed. So clearly she wasn’t primping. A nagging suspicion takes root in my stomach as I stand up and take her hand in mine.

  17

  Lola

  I survived the fall semester of school, and now I’m a month into the winter semester. Things are going well with Ryker and me. Although I’m not sure they’re going as well as the relationship between Beckett and Star. Those two are head over heels in love and hardly spend two minutes apart. Not to mention the fact that they’ve said the dreaded three words. The ones I can’t say for some reason. The truth is that I do think I love Ryker, but thinking it and saying it are two different things. I’ve never told a boy I’ve loved him. Then again, I’ve never actually loved a boy before. But still. Something about saying those words scares me to death.

  Besides, Ryker doesn’t really know everything about me. He doesn’t know about my little coping mechanism. He doesn’t know what I do when I feel like I’m losing control. If he did he would realize that I’m not who he thinks I am. I’m not the fun-loving, easy-going Lola he’s fallen for. I am a control freak with a horrible, disgusting habit.

  “Hey, what are you thinking about?” Star pulls me out of my inner self-loathing.

  I look up from the textbook lying open in my lap. “I’m just studying,” I lie.

  “Oh.” Star eyes me curiously. “You looked like you were upset about something.”

  “Yeah, I’m upset that I have to study history instead of going out with Ryker tonight,” I say with a light laugh.

  Star smiles. I’m satisfied that I’ve appeased her. That’s the one good thing about Star being all into Beckett. She hasn’t noticed all the signs that she used to watch for. When my bulimia was first discovered during junior year of high school, it was Star who went on high alert. She seemed more worried about me than my parents were. I guess it makes sense, since I took Star under my wing freshman year and I’d always been the one to take care of her. Junior year was her chance to return the favor. But now she’s so wrapped up in her own life, her own relationship. She walks around with her head in the clouds all the time. I’m grateful. I don’t need her to catch on. I can handle my problem on my own.

  “Well, I’m headed out.”

  “With Beckett?” I drop my pen and it skitters across the words typed in the text book.

  Her cheeks flush. “I’m going to ask him if he wants to come home with me for the long weekend we have in February.”

  I slide the textbook from my lap. The indentations are embedded in the flesh on my thighs. “What? Are you serious?”

  She bites her lip, a few strands of her dark hair slipping over her shoulder. She’s dressed in her typical jeans and loose fitting top. “Yeah. You should invite Ryker too.”

  “No way.” I shake my head vehemently.

  “Why not? You guys have been going out for a long time.” Star makes her way over to me and perches on the edge of my bed.

  I tuck my legs in close, my fuzzy socks brushing against my thick comforter. Since I’m in for the night I’m wearing my yoga pants and a long sleeved shirt. “I don’t want to subject Ryker to my family.”

  Star chuckles. “It is a freakshow, that’s for sure.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I playfully punch her in the shoulder.

  “But wouldn’t it be easier to endure if you had Ryker with you? I mean, then you won’t have to put up with them all by yourself.” She winks at me. “You always liked it when I came over. You said it got them off your back a little.”

  She’s right. I used to beg her to come over when we were in high school like every day. “Yeah. Only you hated coming over.”

  “True, but Ryker would be fine with it. I’m sure.”

  “No. I can’t do it.”

  “What’s really going on here, Lola?” Star fixes me with a knowing stare.

  I pull the bottom of my sleeve down and fidget with it, rolling the fabric in my fingers. “Star, you know how my parents are. They aren’t exactly excited about the idea of me dating a musician.”

  “I know they want you to date some doctor or lawyer or something, but it’s your life, Lola. You need to put your foot down with them. You’re an adult now.”

  “It’s just not that easy.”

  “It is when you’re telling me what to do.” Star huffs.

  “That’s different.” I poke her in the ribs. “Besides, you need me to mother you. If not for me you’d live in complete filth.”

  Star chuckles. “Fair enough.” Then her face grows serious and she puts her hand over mine. “Hey, just remember what happened last time you kept everything inside.”

  Guiltily I think about just an hour earlier when I was hunched over the toilet seat, puking up my lunch. But that’s not what she’s talking about.
She doesn’t know about that, I remind myself. She’s referring to junior year.

  “Yeah, I know.” I lower my gaze, staring hard at my red nails. I think about how much Ryker loves this color and my heart involuntarily skips a beat. If only I could do what Star is suggesting.

  “Just think about it, okay?” Star says.

  “Since when did you become the wise one?” I tease her.

  “When I stopped letting you boss me around,” she banters back.

  “Oh, come on. You just admitted that it’s helpful,” I say in mock indignation.

  “Yes, your control freak tendencies are very helpful.” Star stands, a smile playing on her lips.

  “Let me know how it goes with Beckett,” I say, as she picks her purse off of her bed.

  “I will.” She flings the purse over her shoulder and the strap tangles in her hair. As she frees the trapped strands, she glances over at me. “I hope he says yes. It will be so much fun to show him around our home town. Think about what I said. It would be a blast if Ryker could come too.”

  My stomach knots when she heads out of the dorm room. I try to imagine Ryker in my house, in my hometown, walking the familiar streets or eating at the restaurants I’ve eaten at my whole life. It would be amazing to share that with him. As close as we are, sometimes it’s hard to imagine us ever getting any closer. But I know this would cement us together even more. However, I just can’t do it.

  I like how Ryker is separate from my old life. I like how he represents my future, not my past. But most of all, I can’t stand the thought of my parents meeting him and then rejecting him. It’s one thing for them to disapprove of the idea of him. I can just keep telling myself it’s because they don’t know him. But what about when they do meet him? I’m just not sure I can handle their disappointment then. And no matter what they think, I’m not ready to let him go just yet. In fact, I’m starting to wonder if I ever will be.