16. I Love It When You Call Me That

16

I LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME THAT

THE DOOR (STRIPPED), TEDDY SWIMS

Alex

Great fucking job, Alex. It was going fine until you decided to yell at her parents. So much for winning them over so she has no choice but to keep you. Now you’ve fucked that up, too.

“Hey,” Livie’s soft voice echoes behind me.

“On a scale from one to ten, how much do you think your mom hates me right now?” I ask, not turning to see her. I’m so disgusted with myself but I couldn’t stand there hearing her mom talk shit about her like that.

“Probably a seven, but you know what’s more important than that?” she asks, curling her hands around my waist and hugging me from behind. The air outside is chilly and even though I’m not cold, I feel instantly warm with her arms around me.

“What? Because the whole reason I’ve been fake dating you is to get your mom off your back; now I’m guessing I just made it worse.”

“More important right now is how much more I like you because of what you just did back there.” I hold her hands in mine and turn around to face her. Livie’s arms are still wrapped around me and when I look down at her face, she’s smiling softly at me even though tears are running down her cheeks. “No one has ever stood up for me like that, and you did it so respectfully. Her jabs don’t affect me anymore; I’ve worked through healing the inner me and loving me the way I am. But still, having someone in my corner when she was being like that was beyond what I could have expected. Thank you,” she whispers.

I bring my thumb up her face and wipe a tear from her cheek.

“I’m so sorry she talks to you that way, Liv. Nobody should have a say in what you eat, how much you eat, or your body for that matter. Unless it’s to tell you how perfect your body is,” I add. I cup her face, holding her in place so she has no choice but to look at me. “Do you hear me, Liv? Nobody. I’m sorry if I crossed the line, but I’m not sorry I spoke my mind.”

She rises on her tiptoes and kisses me gently on the lips. “Thank you. That was the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I grab her hands and pull her to sit on the swing hanging on the screened-in porch. She sits on my lap, her hands reach for my face before kissing me again. She kisses me with care. She kisses me tenderly. Her lips are caressing mine and I’ve never felt this love before. I don’t care what people might say: I love this girl, and I think she might love me back.

“Liv,” I whisper against her lips .

“I love it when you call me that,” she whispers back.

“I love calling you that, Shortie.”

“I love it when you call me that, too.” We both laugh at that and continue kissing, exploring our lips and getting tangled in each other. I’m sure plenty of time passes before we stop kissing. It’s not the first time that the construct of time feels less of a reality than ever. Are there really twenty-four hours in a day, and what is actually a day? Anyone who might hear this story might think I’m crazy falling in love with someone after eleven days—but I don’t think I am. I could say that this feeling, this rush, is lust but I don’t think it is. Lust is ephemeral and I don’t think this feeling—this hug around my heart, this hold she has on me—is anything but love. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way, I don’t think there will ever be an ‘after Livie’ for me. I think there is before her and after I met her. Everything after will be either pure bliss with her or an eternal nightmare without her.

“I have something to tell you, Livie,” I start.

“Me too, but you go first,” she replies.

“You know this whole arrangement we have going on?” I ask.

“Yeah… it’s coming to an end and I couldn’t be more grateful for you coming with me today. Thank you so much. I know I was a mere stranger to you less than two weeks ago, and you’ve given me more than I asked for.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Livie, but please let me just say this one thing.”

She looks up at me with her pretty doe eyes, but before I can begin to tell her how I feel, we hear the door opening. We look to the side and see her mom standing there.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but do you think there’s any way I can talk to Livie?” she asks. When I look at Livie, her eyes widen and she slowly shakes her head no.

She turns to look at her mom and a couple of seconds pass before she says, “You know what, Mom? No; if you have something to say, you can say it in front of Alex, considering you just embarrassed me in front of him, too.”

“Olivia, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was just simply making a comment.”

“An offensive comment, Mom. That wasn’t cool and you not noticing is even worse.” Livie lets out a sigh and presses her hand to her face before continuing, “Mom, the biggest problem is that it’s not the first time you’ve said these things. You’re so focused on my weight or who I date, but you’ve never heard me complain about any of the things you seem to be focusing on.”

“I just want you to be happy, O.”

“I am happy, Mom. That’s the thing—I am truly happy. I love my life the way it is. I love my body the way it is. I love food, Mom. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life on a diet to fit some social standard. You taught me to love myself above it all—but when did you stop loving me above it all?” she asks and her mom breaks into a soft sob.

“I love you, Mom, but your words are hurtful. And truly, if you want me to keep having a relationship with you, you need to work on that. Nobody likes going somewhere where they’re never appreciated.”

“I—” her mom starts, but Livie gets up from my lap and gives her a hug.

“It’s okay, Mom. I know you mean well and I don’t need you to say anything right now. I just need you to think about it, okay? We’re going to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? ”

“Okay. I love you Olivia,” her mom replies against her neck.

“I love you too. Call me tomorrow,” Livie insists before turning around to look at me. “You ready?” she asks and I nod, getting up from the swing and following behind her.

“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Sanz, I hope I get to see you again soon.”

We say goodbye to the rest of her family and get in the truck to head back to her place. “Can I ask for a favor?” Livie asks as we hit the long dark highway.

“Anything,” I reply and I mean it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give this girl, even if that means letting her go tomorrow.

“I know our deal ends tonight, I guess, but can I stay over at your place? We can end this tomorrow if you want, but I don’t want to spend the night by myself. I know you spend Christmas morning with your mom and I don’t want you to miss that, so can I just crash on your couch tonight?” She’s biting her lower lip as her fingers shift, making small circles around with her thumbs.

“Liv, you can crash in my bed any time, no need for a couch. And let’s talk tomorrow if you’re talked out for today. Do you need clothes from home?”

“Do you mind stopping?”

“Not at all,” I reply. If this means I get to spend an extra day with her, an extra minute, an extra second—so be it. Tomorrow though? Tomorrow, I fight for this. Tomorrow, I fight for her.