Let Me Love You: A Novel

by Praks, Wanitta

  Inside, I feel so warm and fuzzy, like I’m in a cocoon, those silken strands wrapped tightly around me, giving me the comfort and love I need.

  I feel exhilarated. It’s like I can’t contain this happiness bursting through me. It’s like I’ve found this happiness and now I can’t stop smiling like a fool. I’m right. I am a sick fool who’s in love with Ivy.

  Today I’ve accomplished what I set out to do. I had planned all along to take her out and buy her that prom dress. Everything is going according to plan. Up next is the confession. But I need Ivy to see my good qualities first before I confess.

  I turn the music up high, drum my hands on the steering wheel, and move my body to the beat of the music, humming along the lyrics like a dork. But I can’t help myself. I can’t stop myself from grinning.

  Everything, everything is just perfect. If I could, I would repeat today again, live through it again. But then again, I can’t wait for tomorrow. Tomorrow I will see Ivy at school. We will have lunch together. And if Mandy wants to join us, she can. I’ll just shove her onto Kai and the guys while I take Ivy for a walk in the park. God, I can’t wait for tomorrow.

  Unfortunately, though, my newfound happiness is quickly taken away from me. When I arrive home, my smile drops and forms into a thin line as soon as I open the door.

  Dillon!

  Dillon is sitting on the couch, talking to Dad. When he sees me, a smirk appears on his face. I ignore his remark and walk past them. Dad glances at me.

  Just as I’m about to reach the door to the hallway to escape Dillon’s nasty stare, Dad asks, “Where have you been, Zac? It’s pretty late tonight. School tomorrow, you know.”

  “Yeah, Dad. I know,” I tell him, trying my best not to be aggravated with Dillon’s behavior. “Just hanging out with some friends.”

  Dad shakes his head, letting me off as if I’m the typical teenage boy who doesn’t like to talk about my private life.

  Of course, this is my private life. I don’t want Dillon or Dad to know about Ivy. Since I know now that it’s all because of him, I want to keep away from him as far as possible.

  Ivy has suffered enough already by Dillon’s hands, and I don’t want to cause her any more trouble. If I were to date Ivy, I have to make sure Dillon stays far away from us.

  Not wanting my good mood to be ruined just because of Dillon, I force a smile and jump on my bed, thinking only happy thoughts. I close my eyes and replay today’s events, all those scenes that I know will put a smile back on my face.

  Me zipping Ivy’s dress. That would have to be the best scene ever. I can see it in my mind’s eye now. Ivy’s soft porcelain back. Ivy closing her eyes. Ivy assuming the zipper was broken.

  I smile and get up. I want to hear Ivy’s voice. I want to talk to her.

  I go to my back pocket and raid for my cell.

  Looking at the cellphone in my hand, I debate with myself. Should I text her? Should I ask her whether she’s asleep yet? I glance at my cell again and see the time is already approaching midnight.

  Ivy might be asleep by now, so not wanting to disturb her, I go to bed instead, taking out the picture of Ivy, the one that Loki had taken of her when she was in Little Café.

  I lie on the bed with a stupid grin on my face, Ivy’s photo in front of my eyes.

  Ivy looks surprised and unprepared for this shot. It shows her true nature, the sweet and sensitive person Ivy is. But it also shows a hardworking person.

  That night I lie asleep, dreaming of Ivy wearing that blue dress and scarf I bought for her. I’m her partner at prom night. We are dancing a waltz together, as many people surround and admire us. I’m her Romeo and she’s my Juliet.

  The next day, I get up feeling happy, but just like last night, it soon turns into a dump when I don’t see Ivy at school. I get so worried that I start texting her. One minute later, she still doesn’t reply back. I text her again and then wait for her reply. After another five minutes, she still doesn’t text back. This time I call her. Ivy doesn’t pick up her phone either.

  Something must be wrong. This gets me all worked up again. Now I can’t concentrate in class. Ashley, who’s sitting beside me, keeps on wedging her seat next to mine, and it’s starting to annoy me too.

  I ignore her and check my phone again, just in case Ivy decides to text me. But there’s still nothing.

  “Zac,” Ashley whispers.

  I glance at Mr. Smith who’s at the front of the class, explaining the chemical equation to water and oxygen, then turn my attention to Ashley. “Yeah?”

  “Why are you looking at your phone? Who are you waiting for?”

  “Nothing,” I tell her, then put my phone back in my backpack.

  If Ashley knew anything about this, there would definitely be rumors. And with the situation all up in the air like this, I don’t want any rumors circulating around Ivy. She already has enough trouble in her family to worry about besides rumors and bullies at school too.

  At lunch, I text Ivy again, but there’s still no reply. By this stage, I’m imagining all sorts of things. Was she in an accident, or has Moon been admitted into hospital again?

  This time I can’t contain myself, so I text her again.

  Ivy, txt bck. I’m worried. Please txt bck.

  By the time class ends that day, I’m feeling so nervous and anxious that when Kai slaps me on the back to alert my attention to his presence, my soul almost flies to heaven.

  I turn to Kai, a scolding look on my face, and slam my fist into his shoulder.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” I growl at him.

  “Yo, bro. Why the hard fist?” Kai complains on the side. “That hurts, bro.”

  I ignore Kai’s complaint and instead check my cell phone again. There’s a text from Ivy.

  Finally! I breathe a sigh of relief. I scroll down to check her text.

  Can we meet after school?

  I think my heart can’t pump any faster than this. I think my smile can’t stretch any farther across my face than this. I am so happy. I just want to jump up and do a jiggy dance. Instead, I wind my arm around Kai’s neck and apologize to him.

  Kai looks at me like I’ve gone bipolar. I don’t care. I just smile at him and turn back to the text message.

  I can’t believe Ivy texted back. Here I thought she was in trouble.

  At this moment, I am so overjoyed. In fact, I am so overjoyed that I almost forget to read the ending message. I scroll down and read.

  …at the hospital.

  My heart sinks down like lead to the ocean floor. It drums so fast that I think I’m going to black out.

  Shit, the hospital. Has something happened to Ivy?

  “Shit. I got to go,” I tell Kai before sprinting off.

  “Zac, what’s going on?” Kai shouts to me as I run to my car and speed to the hospital.

  I leave Kai with his mouth gaping open as he stares at me like I’m fast on someone’s trail, although at that time, I don’t really care what he thinks. All my thoughts are consumed with Ivy.

  Oh God, did something happen to Ivy? Is she sick in hospital? Or was it Moon? Is she not well again? A million scenarios run through my head. I feel sick just thinking about it.

  I speed so fast, wanting to get to the hospital. But luckily enough, I don’t go over the speed limit. Otherwise, it would waste more of my precious time, precious time that should be spent talking to Ivy.

  Arriving at the hospital, I park my car in the one available care park. Thank God. I put some coins in the meter and don’t even give a hoot if I added too many. I dash out again and run out to the hospital entrance, my mouth going dry. When I see Ivy standing in front of the hospital entrance, I almost weep with joy.

  Thank God, she’s fine.

  I race up to her, stopping only when I stand in front of her. I grab hold of her hand and bring her body in for a hug.

  “Ivy.” My word comes out breathless. “I thought you were sick. I thought something must have happened to you. I wa
s so worried.”

  Ivy only stands very still. She doesn’t move, nor does she speak. She just allows me to hug her like this.

  I smile. Feeling her warm body close to mine like this, it makes my head melt with love.

  After a moment of our close contact, I pull her back.

  “So what do you want to talk about? Why did you ask me to meet you at the hospital? Is someone sick?”

  “Grandma,” Ivy speaks, her eyes and face holding an impassive look.

  “What’s wrong with Nancy?” I ask, not liking her expressionless face. Any look at all would be fine on Ivy’s face. Mad, a frown between her brows, anything at all, but not an impassive one. It looks like she stops caring when she holds that expression.

  “She’s not well,” Ivy says quietly. “We took her to see the doctor. She’s been given more medication now.”

  “Will she get better?” I ask, concerned for Nancy’s wellbeing.

  “Yes. I hope so,” Ivy says, not looking at me.

  “That’s good.” I nod my head, waiting for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. After a while of idle silence, I find myself asking, “So since I’m here, you want to grab a coffee or something? I haven’t eaten anything today.”

  “Zac, I want to talk to you.” Ivy turns to face me now.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, not noticing the tense look on her face. “We can talk in the coffee shop. Let’s go.”

  I go to grab Ivy’s hand, but she stops me before I have the chance. I turn my attention to her, confused about her abnormal behavior.

  “No, Zac,” she says. “This will only take a minute. Then you can have your coffee.”

  “Oh, well, okay.” I’m not sure why we can’t talk in the coffee shop when she would be having drinks with me anyway.

  Ivy takes a deep breath and then looks up at me again. “We should stop being friends.”

  I blink. Did I hear something wrong? Did Ivy just say for us not to be friends anymore?

  “Ivy, you’re joking, right? What are you talking about? Come on, let’s go have a coffee and something to eat. I’m hungry.” I brush her comment aside and take her hand again, but Ivy tugs out of my grasp.

  “No, Zac. I’m not joking.” Her tone is very strained and serious. “I really mean it. Let’s stop being friends.”

  “Ivy.” I turn back to her, getting quite serious as well. “What are you on about? Why are you saying things like that all of a sudden? Didn’t we agree that you’re my friend?”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve realized now that I can’t be your friend. It’s not possible to be your friend.”

  “How is it not possible when we just hung out yesterday? We mesh well. Tell me how that’s not possible?” I ask her, my voice slightly rising. “I want to be your friend. I’m not asking for anything more apart from friendship for now. So what’s your problem?”

  Ivy stays quiet again. She looks down at the floor and stays that way.

  “Ivy,” I stress her name out. “Tell me, what is the problem? Why are you suddenly acting like this?”

  Ivy turns her face up to meet mine. This time a glint of determination appears in her eyes. She says, clearly and without faltering, “Dillon’s the problem.”

  I open my eyes wide, startled at her explanation.

  I know Dillon is the one who caused that accident. Ivy has been in so much pain, physically and emotionally, that she wants to forget it. But when she accepted me as her friend, I thought she had forgotten about the fact that I’m related to him. So what’s the problem now? Why did she change her mind?

  I’m being defensive. I don’t like where Ivy is going with this conversation. So in retaliation, I argue back, “You said so yourself that if your family sees me as a friend, then you would be my friend too. So why do you want to stop being friends with me now?”

  “I said it’s because of Dillon,” she says, her voice also rising a bit.

  “So what? What’s that got to do with our friendship?”

  “Because Grandma saw Dillon and now she’s sick.”

  I gasp. I know Dillon is in Dunedin. I just saw him last night, talking to Dad, but I didn’t expect the world to be that small that Nancy would see Dillon’s face that fast.

  “I’m sorry Nancy’s sick. But I still think this has nothing to do with us.”

  “It has everything to do with us, Zac. If Grandma or Clare know you’re related to him, then Grandma will only get worse.”

  “I can’t guarantee what will happen to Nancy, but know that I’m a very honest person. I’m not like Dillon. I won’t hurt you or your family. Haven’t you already seen how your family likes me? Isn’t that enough proof that I get along well with them. So you don’t have to worry about them not liking me.”

  “I know you get along well with everyone in my family, Zac, but the matter still remains that if they know you’re Dillon’s brother, everything will change.

  “Then I’ll deal with it when the time comes. Just let me continue to be your friend.” I plead my case to her.

  “I don’t want to deal with it, Zac. I want to forget it.”

  “Why are you being like this? You were fine with us being friends before.”

  “Like I said before, I can’t help seeing you and being reminded of the past. It hurts too much.”

  “Then don’t think of the past.”

  “How can I not think of my parents and my brother?”

  “Ivy, why?”

  “Just forget about it. I don’t want to talk anymore. I’ve told you the reason, so I’m going now.”

  Before Ivy takes a step from me, I grab her hand and swing her around. “Ivy.”

  “Let my hand go, Zac,” she yells at me. “From now on, you don’t have the right to touch me. We’re no longer friends.”

  Ivy tears her hands from mine and runs away.

  “Ivy!” I yell at her disappearing figure. When she doesn’t turn back and continues walking, I kick my foot at the concrete pillar to release my frustration.

  “What the hell just happened?”

  Chapter 19

  IVY

  Torment

  I am in torment. I am now living a life of hell, my soul dying slowly while my body still functions like a normal human being. Essentially, I am nothing but a living doll. To eat, to sleep, these are all the normal things one would do as a normal human being, but to do so without any emotion at all, that is what is defined as a living doll. I am nothing more than a fragment of myself from before. Everyone around me notices the changes that take place in me. Even Mandy notices my lack of appetite, saying I’m not eating my usual fill. Clare even comments that I don’t fire back my usual retorts. Everyone around me is starting to get worried.

  Although I say I don’t want Zac in my life, my inner self says something else. At night, I am constantly plagued with dreams of him, usually waking up sweating and craving his touch. In these dreams, Zac kiss me, he confesses to me that he loves me, or sometime it is just Zac laying his head on my lap with my fingers running through his hair.

  How I crave his kiss. How I want his touch. Now I know why I’m constantly dreaming of him. It’s because this is what my subconscious self wants. I need for him to tell me he loves me. For him to confess to me that he’s loved me all along. That is what I’ve wanted to hear; that’s why my subconscious mind conjures up all these images of Zac in my dreams.

  Now there’s only one conclusion. This is no normal crush. This is love. I now admit my feelings, raw and plain. I love Zac. I’m in love with him, and the knowledge that brings me also brings me pain.

  I’m in love with the guy whose brother killed my family and did not feel remorse for his actions.

  How can it be like this? I ask myself. To love a person to the point of not thinking straight, that is just preposterous. I’m so young. Feelings change.

  But my feelings don’t change. It’s been two weeks now. In that time, Zac has not even called nor texted. Despite that, at school, I constantly seek him out, wis
hing he would appear so I can see him.

  But Zac never appears. He’s gone forever now. I know he must have been hurt by what I said. But this is for the best, I tell myself when I do find myself crying to sleep after another day of not seeing him at school.

  Is he trying to avoid me? Sometimes when I get these thoughts, I hit myself. He’s not hiding from you, Ivy. It’s you who wanted this all along. Zac is only doing as you told him. So you should be happy, right?

  On the third week, when I think I can’t take it anymore, Zac appears in front of me in the art room while I’m in class.

  My heart leaps into midair like I’m a kite flying over a cliff on a windy day. Zac turns to me once, his eyes boring into mine, a sad air around him, and then goes to sit in the center of the room.

  I wonder what he’s doing sitting there when Mrs. McIntosh speaks. “Zac will be our live model for today.”

  I finally realize he’s to be our live model for our art project this year. I swallow and lift my hand up, feigning sickness.

  I realize I cannot stay in the same room without breaking down.

  Mrs. McIntosh arrives by my side. “Yes, Ivy. Do you need something?”

  “I… I…” I try speaking, wanting any excuse at all to get as far away from Zac, who’s still staring at me with his fixed gaze in my direction.

  “You should focus on your lines a bit more, Ivy. Keep trying.” That’s all Mrs. McIntosh says, and then she goes away. My chance of escape is gone.

  Throughout the whole session, Zac continues to stare at me. Once or twice, I catch his eyes and he turns away, his eyes registering pain like me, but like two stubborn people, we both ignore each other. But sometimes, I can’t help feeling his heated stares in my direction, and when I look up again, he turns the other way.

  I start to feel agitated and nervous under his heated stare. I fidget in my seat; my hands tremble as I sketch his eyes.

  His irises, they are a dull-looking green. It’s so painful to look at, so hard for me to stare into. I don’t want to stare at them. I hate them. They remind me too much of Dillon’s, but I’m so sucked into those eyes that I can’t stop looking at them.