I Am Lily

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 8 (v.1)

Submitted: February 25, 2008

Reads: 200

Comments: 4

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 25, 2008




Somehow, I knew who it was even before I turned around.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Brian sneered.

“Cut it out, Brian,” I said as calmly as I could. I noted he didn’t have a knife in his hand yet. “This is my friend Dylan.”

“You know this guy?” Dylan asked.

Brian’s eyes blackened. “This guy? I’m not just some ‘this guy’, I’m Lily’s boyfriend. Did you hear me? Lily’s boyfriend.”

“I heard you,” said Dylan. I could feel his eyes on me as I stared at the ground. This can’t be happening.

“Look here, Dylan,” said Brian. “You don’t go playing around with somebody else’s girlfriend, you know that? You don’t go telling them you’ll visit often. Lily’s mine, so you’d better stay away from her. If I catch you trying to steal her again, you’ll be pretty sorry.”

Dylan frowned confusedly. “I’m not trying to…to steal her or anything,” he said. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend.” He glanced at me.

“She didn’t tell you?” Brian’s voice changed. He whisked around to face me. “You didn’t tell him?”

I mumbled something about not getting the chance.

“I’m your boyfriend, Lily,” he said, gripping my shoulders. “You love me, I love you. Got that? If you can’t take this relationship seriously and if you keep hiding it from people…you know what will happen.” He glared meaningfully.

“Don’t start, Brian,” I said.

He glared for a few more seconds, checking if his words had gotten through. Then he said, “Fine, then. We’ll talk later.”

He turned back to Dylan. “And you. You stay away.” Turning on his heels again, he grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me away.

He took me to his house. Again. Did I mention how much I hate the place?

“What, Brian?” I said, annoyed. I wrenched my arm away from his grasp. “Why did you have to be so mean to him?”

“He’s a boy, Lily,” he said, looking deeply into my eyes.


“You’re not supposed to meet boys.”

“What?” I can’t believe this. He’s not my…no, not even my mother would say things like this. “Just because you’re my boyfriend it doesn’t mean I have to live hiding away from every single boy in this world, Brian,” I said angrily. “Why are you being so immature?”

“Fine, then,” he said. “You can look at all the boys you want. Just --- just stay away from Dylan Williams.”

I started. How does he know Dylan’s last name? I never mentioned his last name.

“Why do you sound like you know him?” I asked. “Do you know him?”

Brian’s eyes faltered. Mine narrowed.

“Answer me, Brian,” I said. “Do you know him?”

He didn’t answer for a while. Then I heard him mutter, “Who doesn’t?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“God, Lily,” he said. “I know you’ve lost your memory and all, but can’t you look around for once? Dylan Williams is the most famous guy around for miles!” He turned away, scowling.


He turned around again and said more calmly. “Everyone knows Dylan, Lily. Everyone.”

“Oh,” I said. But Dylan doesn’t hang around with friends, right? He said so himself. And he’s so…amazing. I should’ve known. What girl wouldn’t have a major crush on him? But Dylan doesn’t have a girlfriend. He said so. Well, actually he didn’t, but he said he liked me. Me. I started as realization crashed on me: the most popular guy in Connecticut likes me.

And I’m here stuck with Brian. I felt like kicking something.

“So, do I have your word?” he asked.


“Your word,” said Brian. “That you won’t ever meet him again.”

Is he crazy? Of course I’ll meet him. “Sure,” I said. “But what about coincidence?”

“I don’t believe in coincidence,” he said.


The next day I met Dylan on the bus again. He was unusually quiet.

“Hi,” I said, sitting next to him.

No answer.

“Uh,” I said. “Dylan? You all right?”

No answer.


“I’m an idiot.” His voice was toneless.

“What! Don’t say that,” I said, worried. What’s the matter with him?

“You had a boyfriend,” he said, facing me.

“What does it matter?” I asked.

Matter?” His eyes were hurt. “Of course it matters. Why didn’t you tell me? And all this while, I’ve been liking a girl who already likes someone else.” He turned away again.

I’ve been liking a girl…

“I don’t like Brian,” I said quietly. “I used to, but…I don’t anymore. I want to get away from him, escape from him.”

“Is that so hard?” He asked, still looking out the window.

“Yes,” I said. “He makes it hard for me. He’s…mentally ill, I think.”

Dylan slowly turned to look at me. “Mentally…ill?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking down at my hands. I don’t know why I’m telling him all this, but I feel like I need to tell someone. Someone who understands. “Every time I try to tell him, he kind of…zones out, and pulls out a knife and tries to kill himself.”

“He pulls out a knife?” Dylan exclaimed.

I nodded. “Don’t shout it around, there’s people in this bus.”

“Sorry,” he said, then continued in a quieter voice. “Lily, that’s serious. He needs therapy or something, you can’t just play along with him like this! It’ll destroy you.”

“I know,” I said. “But…I think I’ll tell him soon. It’s only for awhile, but I can’t help thinking that if he dies, it’ll be all my fault…”

Dylan put an arm around my shoulder. “It is pretty serious,” he said. “I'm sorry I got pissed. You’re the most wonderful person in the world, you know that?”

“No,” I said truthfully, then laughed.

After school I met Dylan secretly at the theatre, and we watched a movie together. It was a short comedy, and we both spent the whole time laughing, eating popcorn and talking.

“This is a good theatre,” he said.

“Yes, it is,” I replied, reaching into the popcorn box. “It’s got the best movies.”

“And,” he said, and I could feel him eyeing me mischievously again. “This is where I met you.”

I hoped to God I wasn’t blushing. I hardly ever blush, which is something I’m very thankful for, but now I could almost feel the heat in my cheeks.

When we left the theatre, we were both in the best of moods.

“So, where do you want to go now?” he asked.

“Oh, anywhere,” I said, then added slyly, “Wherever time takes us.”

He laughed and took my hand.

That was when I caught sight of something, no, someone staring at us from just a little ways off. I turned to look, just take a glance, but my heart fell.

“Dylan,” I said through my teeth.

“What?” he asked, still smiling.

“Left,” I whispered. He looked, then the smile slid from his face.

“Uh oh,” he said. He quickly let go of my hand.

Brian. He came over to us, his eyes angry and full.

“Lily,” he said, his voice pressed with anger and annoyance and rage and all the different kinds of anger in the world. “Lily, this is getting too serious. We need to talk.” He turned to Dylan. “And you. Didn’t I tell you to stay away from my girlfriend? Didn’t I say you’d be sorry if I caught you hanging all over her again? I keep my word. You will be sorry. I’ll make you crawl.”

“Brian,” I said in a low voice before Dylan could answer. “You’re the one who needs to be sorry. Look, I’m tired of you overreacting about everything and acting like a madman whenever I try to tell you anything sensible. We do need to talk, and this time, it’ll be our last. You keep away from Dylan. And I’ll make you sorry.” I heaved a breath, not believing I’d just said that.

Brian was staring at me with a sad, sorry look on his face.

“Lily,” he said. “I understand. I understand everything that you said, and I won’t ever do it again. I already am sorry. I’ll leave now, and not be a part of your life anymore.”

What did he just say? Did I hear right? His hands were hanging limply by his side, and he didn’t have the knife in his fingers, pressing against his wrist like last time. His eyes were grievous, sincere, even, and sorry. Something wasn't right.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. Then he walked away, hanging his head.

“I thought you said he was mentally ill?” Dylan said.

I laughed. “Guess he’s cured.”

That evening my mom announced she would be staying at a friend’s for the night. It was the first time I was alone in the house after coming home from the hospital, and a sense of loneliness filled the empty space around me. I played with my cellphone, the computer, read a few books, watched TV…then sat around glumly without anything to do.

At around seven o’ clock, my cell rang. I answered without thinking, without looking carefully at the number that popped up. I knew the moment the first words were uttered that something was terribly wrong.

“Hello, this is Liam Hospital, are you Lily Duerre?”

I gulped. Hospital? “Yes, I am.”

“We’re calling with Mr…” A bit of fumbling here. “Mr. Dylan William’s phone. Are you a family member?”

“No,” I whispered. Dylan is in the hospital. Oh god. “I’m a…a close friend.”

“Ah,” the woman’s voice faltered. “Your number was the only one listed as a contact, so we called immediately. Mr. Williams has been injured, and is in the hospital now. We hope you will come as soon as possible.”

“Injured?” I croaked.

“Yes,” said the woman. “He is being tended to now, and has come to just a few minutes ago. We hope you will come.” She hung up.

I dropped the phone as a moan escaped my throat. “Oh my god, my god.”

I think I already know who injured him.

© Copyright 2018 Aryanne. All rights reserved.


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