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

by Fields, MJ

  I raise my hand and take the phone from her. Holding the receiver to my chest, I whisper-yell, "Why did you pick up my phone?"

  She startles back, her face twisted in confusion. "It was Trevin. Why wouldn’t I answer the phone?"

  I may not be speaking to him, but he's certainly communicating with me. Texts about what’s going on with the band or poems like he used to write me come daily. He’s called before, but I’ve never answered and he doesn’t leave messages.

  Knowing that he’s waiting for me on the other end of the phone brings a mixture of joy and trepidation to my heart. And just like every other day, he's been on my mind. However, today more than normal. I know he doesn’t have any family to spend Thanksgiving with—at least any family he actual wants to see—and I wonder if he’s with anyone at all.

  My heart starts to race and I finally put the phone up to my ear, but my voice leaves me when I try to say hello. Only a whisper comes out.

  “Hi.” Silence fills the line since I still can’t seem to answer back. “Are you there?” he asks, full of anticipation. Hearing his voice just ripped a hole into my heart that I thought was almost mended.

  This one is different, though. It isn’t caused by hurt or distrust. It’s from missing him—every part of him. His laugh, his silly nicknames, and most importantly, the way my insides feel at ease just by the way he said hi.

  I get up from my seat to move to a more private area. “Yes, I’m here.”

  “It’s so good to hear your voice. How are you?”

  I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly and looking up at the ceiling before saying, “I’m good. What about you? I’ve been thinking about you today.”

  Happiness drips from his voice when he says, “You have? God, Lilies, I miss you so much.”

  “I miss you too, Trev,” I reply because it’s the God’s honest truth. I just need to be careful not to fall right back to being us because we both aren’t who we used to be.

  For the first time in a while, I have a boyfriend who I actually like. He’s nothing like Trevin, and I know he wouldn’t approve, but I’d be lying to myself if that weren’t one of the things I found appealing about him.

  “Is anyone there besides your family?” he asks after a long pause.

  “My grandparents are here, but that’s it. Who are you spending today with?”

  “Chad, one of my band members, invited me to his place, but I turned it down. I’d rather be home alone in this big house all by myself for a change. It doesn’t happen very often.” The way he says he’s alone is so nonchalant, but I wonder if he really feels that way. Nobody likes to be by themselves on a holiday, and my heart aches a little knowing he is.

  I’m not sure what to say without falling back into making sure he’s taken care of, so I change the subject. That’s not my job anymore. “How are things with the band?”

  “Really good actually.” His voice raises a few octaves, proving he’s not just saying that and he’s truly excited.

  “Yeah, and how so?” I ask, just content to hear that happiness in his voice.

  “The guys are cool. I’m starting to feel like one of them and not just the outsider I started off as. I wish you could have met them when—”

  He stops and I hear the intake of his breath at the mention of my horrendous visit. I know he didn’t mean to reference any part of it, and honestly, I hoped he wouldn’t, so I ignore his slip up this time, hoping it was just that. “That’s cool, Trev. I’m excited for you.”

  “We’re planning a European tour that starts in January, so I’ll be off seeing the world, one concert at a time. I still can’t believe it.”

  “Me neither. I’m happy for your success, Trevin.”

  He pauses, his voice slightly lower. “That means a lot to me. You know I wouldn’t be here without you.”

  I take a deep breath. “I know, Trev. Hey look, my family's at the dinner table, so I have to run.” I feel bad cutting this short, but baby steps are all I can take right now. My heart is beginning to race and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

  “Okay. Thank you for finally talking to me, even if you only did because of your mom. I miss you, Lily.”

  “I miss you, too,” I barely whisper. “Happy Thanksgiving, Trevin.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Lily Pad.”

  * * *

  Trevin — New Year’s Eve

  It’s 11:55 on New Year’s Eve and the view from the very top of the Eiffel Tower sits before me like a painting. I feel like I should pinch myself for how crazy my life is now, but I know firsthand that this isn’t a dream, I’m actually living out every single thing I ever wanted and more.

  That is, except one thing. Lily has finally started to text me back and we’ve spoken a few times here and there, but that’s it. I had to stop myself multiple times from begging her to come see me for Christmas. I knew it was too early. I’m still working on getting my best friend back, and I need to do that before I plead for her to visit me again.

  So besides my late night phone call to her on Thanksgiving, I’ve pretended like the holidays didn’t exist this year. Instead, I just focused on getting ready for our tour that we left for a few days ago.

  Well, I guess that isn’t exactly true. I did get her something for Christmas. After walking around every store I could think of, looking for that perfect gift, nothing said what I wanted it to say. Jewelry was so impersonal and other things gave her the wrong impression. So there I was, with more money than I’ve ever had and not a gift in sight that made sense. Who says money solves all problems? They obviously never had to earn someone’s heart and trust back.

  It needed to be something special; something that truly showed what she means to me. When the idea hit me, I called in a favor to my management at Sony Records, hoping they knew the right people and, of course, they were able to get me exactly what I needed. So, okay, maybe having money does help in these instances.

  I was able to get her backstage passes and a meet and greet with the San Francisco cast of The Nutcracker. I wish I could have been there with her, but I didn’t push that fact. When I sent the tickets, I also mailed a note saying I wanted her to bring her mom, Morgan or, God forbid, her boyfriend—but of course, I didn’t say it that way.

  Thank God she took her mom, and the pictures she emailed me were more than enough thanks. Seeing her face light up with the other dancers made every single thing worth it and proved to me why I’ll work until the day I die to truly win her friendship back.

  Now it’s about to be 2000 and all I want to do is celebrate with her, even though she’s across the entire world and it’s only three in the afternoon there. I pull my phone out of my pocket, flip it open and make the international call.

  “Hey, Trev,” she answers with nothing but the happiness I’ve grown to love from her.

  “Lily Pad, guess where I am?”

  “Um…please don’t tell me you’re in the red light district with a hooker?” Even though she's joking, I can tell she's wary about talking to me. It's the way her voice comes up at the end. She does that when she's nervous.

  “Come on, that was yesterday. Never two days in a row,” I tease and she laughs in response. “No, seriously, I’m at the top of the Eiffel Tower and we’re about to ring in the New Year here.”

  “Wow, Trev, that’s so cool. I’m glad you called, too. This way, if everything crashes with this Y2K thing, I’ll know firsthand and can go get my money out of the bank before the news hits,” she teases, and I laugh knowing all that shit is crazy. “For real though, is it wild up there?”

  “A little, but the band and a few other famous people—I have no clue who they are—were able to go up to a secluded spot, so it’s not too bad.”

  I look around at the group I’m ringing in the new millennium with and shake my head. I turn back to the railing and look out at the view, knowing the only person important here is the girl on the other end of the phone.

  “That’s so amazing. I can’t believe
your life now.”

  “Right? I sure wish you were here, though. Are you hanging out with Conner tonight?”

  She pauses before saying, “We broke up actually.”

  A rush of happiness pours through me but I keep it in. “Everything okay? Want to talk about it?”

  “No, it’s fine. He was starting to get on my nerves so—”

  “Oh, hey!” I interrupt. “Sorry, but here we go. Start counting.” We begin with ten and work our way down together. “Three, two, one, Happy New Year!” Fireworks start blasting over my head and the laughter I hear through the phone lights my insides as well. “You hear all that, Lily Pad?” I scream through the phone.

  She laughs again. This time it seems real, like my Lily. “Yes, of course I do, Trevin.”

  “Happy New Year, Lilies.”

  “Happy New Year, Trevin. I’m not sure how your life could get any better in 2000, but I wish you the best.”

  “You too. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay, Trev. Have a safe night.”

  * * *

  Lily — A few months later

  Sadness wraps around me as I make my way through the rows of flowers and headstones to where Julie’s grave is situated. It’s been three years since she passed, and I promised Trevin I would bring the flowers he picked out especially for her since he was still on the road.

  Slowly, he’s worked his way back into my world and we’re becoming friends again, the way it was always meant to be. But that has nothing to do with me being here—I would come to visit today no matter what. Julie meant a lot to me too, and I can’t help the tears that start to moisten my eyes as I approach.

  When I hear someone rustling around ahead of me, I stop in my tracks, afraid to approach the commotion going on next to her grave.

  My eyes meet with the unsettling yellow-tinted stare of Trevin’s father. Since he’s still my parents’ neighbor, I see him on occasion, just in passing, but this is totally different. My pulse starts to race when he grunts his frustration, going back to attacking Julie’s grave.

  When I see him trying to deface the beautiful headstone Trevin purchased for his mom, rage sets in. I start yelling, “What in the world are you doing?”

  “Get away from me, you little whore,” he bites back.

  I momentarily step back, completely shocked by his comment. I take a deep breath before continuing my strut toward him. I now know I will need reinforcements, quickly.

  Dialing 9-1-1, I start to run toward him to stop his assault. “Stop! Don’t do this!”

  “This is all your fault. I know you had something to do with this. Trevin shouldn't have put this here. She didn’t deserve this kind of monument. She was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I could’ve had so much more if she didn’t tie me down with that asshole son of mine.”

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the girl on the other end of the phone asks.

  “I’m at McCallen Cemetery, and there’s someone here trying to tear up a gravestone.”

  “Okay, I’ll send a police officer out right away, stay on the phone with me until they get there. Are you near this person?”

  She continues to ask me questions, but instead of answering, I’m more focused on stopping him.

  He reaches back and between one moment and the next; he smacks me hard, the back of his knuckles making contact with my face. I fall to the ground just as a police car pulls up with sirens on.

  The officer jumps out of the car, yelling for him to stop and put his hands in the air.

  I whimper back, holding my palm against my cheek. A harsh pain rips through my face while I try to calm the frantic beating I feel taking over my chest.

  “Fuck me,” Dick grunts, holding his hands in the air and, thankfully, not putting up a fight. He knows there’s nowhere for him to go.

  The officer wraps Dick’s hands around his back, securing them in cuffs while asking if I’m okay. Once he’s in the back of the cruiser, the officer helps me to my feet, giving my face a once over and taking my statement for what just happened.

  My nerves get the best of me and my shaking hands start to make it hard to function or think.

  “Here, let’s sit down on the bench,” the officer says. We walk to the bench and he asks, “Is there anyone you can call? Do you have a car here?”

  “I do, and yes, Officer, I can call someone. I know exactly who. I’ll be fine. I promise. Thank you for coming when you did.”

  After asking me a few more questions and making sure I’m truly okay, he gives my shoulder a slight squeeze before getting up and leaving me to take Dick to the station.

  I take a few deep breaths, working up the nerve to—for the first time—initiate talking to Trevin. I know because of what just happened, and who Dick is, he should be my first choice, but that’s not why I’m calling him.

  I’m calling him because I need him.

  I need to hear his voice.

  I need to hear him tell me it’s going to be okay.

  I need the reassurance that only my best friend can offer.

  The second he answers, all the tension and pain of what just happened melts away, and I’m able to calmly tell him why I’m calling.

  “Lilies, oh my God, that bastard. Are you okay? Please tell me he didn’t hurt you? I’ll kill him.”

  “No, Trevin, he didn’t. I’m okay.” And I am. After hearing his voice, I am okay.

  Thirteen

  One chance is all I need.

  To get what I want, to feel truly freed.

  I’ll do anything to make it right.

  Only for you I’d join this fight.

  - Trevin Allen

  Trevin – Age 20

  Shit is finally starting to slow down. For the last nine months, we’ve been on tour all over the fucking world, and I’m exhausted. While I was gone, I had my manager scout out a place of my own so I can finally have some peace from everything.

  Living on the road, and then with the group of guys when I’m home, is getting to be too much. I need my space, I need my time alone, and more importantly, I need to figure out a way to get Lily to move down here.

  She’s in college at USF, and I’m trying to convince her to transfer to USC. She wants to get her teaching credentials. That’s something that can be accomplished here just as easily as it could be done there. I know she doesn’t trust me after the last time she came to visit, and I know I fucked up royally, but those days are behind us. I don’t want her to move here to be with me—I just need my best friend back by my side.

  I shouldn’t have slept with her before I knew I was ready to commit. It was wrong to do it before I left, and even more so when she came to L.A. I had no business taking that from her at a time I couldn’t offer her anything more. Toying with the relationship was wrong—I knew better, but I had to claim her anyway. It screwed up our friendship for a while, taking a lot of fucking work to bring us back, but I finally feel like we’re there again, and I want to keep it that way.

  She tells me about the guys she dates—all stuck-up pricks if you ask me—and teases me about pictures that end up in the tabloids about whoever I’m fucking this week. I don’t know why anyone gives a shit who I stick my dick in. At twenty years old, I’m a rock star living the dream—it’s all in fun. Surely, people don’t expect anything different.

  After parking my fully restored 1969 black Camaro in a driveway that I’ve never been in but am about to call home, I pick up my cell to call Lily.

  “Honey, I’m home,” I sing into the phone when she answers.

  Laughing, she replies, “Yeah, what’s it look like?”

  “No fucking clue. Haven’t gotten out of the car yet. I wanted to have you on the line the first time I enter our house.”

  “Trev, I’m not moving there,” she protests.

  “Yet. You’re not moving here yet,” I correct her.

  “Whatever. Get your butt out of the car and go tell me all about your new place.”

  “W
ell, from the outside it looks like the photos they sent me—pretty secluded, tucked away with a long driveway leading up to it. I’ll have to hire a gardener when I’m on tour—there’s no fucking way I can keep up with this lawn.”

  “You’ve been a homeowner for all of five seconds and you’re already bitching about up-keep. You rock stars, so lazy all the time.” I love hearing her razz me—it reminds me of who we are.

  I smile as I reach for the keys to my new place and unlock the door to my small slice of heaven. The place isn’t outrageously huge, but it’s exactly what I wanted. Something quiet, on a private beach where I can just be me.

  My manager had the place decorated just enough that I would be comfortable, but not overdone making it look feminine. That will be Lily’s job as soon as I convince her to move.

  “So…how is it?” she asks.

  “It’s cool.” I walk around, taking it all in, still in disbelief this is my life and I now own this thirty-three-hundred-square-foot house on the beach.

  “Cool? Trev, my new nail polish is cool; your new album cover is cool. What you have is amazingly unbelievable. I can’t wait to see it! I bet the pictures don’t do it any justice.”

  Throughout the entire process, I’ve been sending Lily photos of places they had in mind for me, and she helped me choose this one. Who am I’m kidding—I only bought this one because it was her favorite.

  “Only a few more days and you will. What time is your flight?” I ask as I flip on the light in my new bedroom. Just as I asked, the same three photos are tucked in the mirror of my new bedroom furniture. It’s my little piece of home that keeps me grounded, and the only thing I said had to be done in terms of decor.

  “My flight arrives at three. I’ve got to get going, though. Congrats on the house, Trev.”

  “Thanks, Lilies. See you then—oh, and don’t forget my bracelets.”