midnight lilies

I entered the familiar numbers into my phone. Three sixes, two eights, and one nine. Those were the numbers I loved the most.

It rang.

I stared up at the ceiling as it kept ringing, with no voice appearing to answer.

His voice came through after seven rings, the number his voice always came at.

“Hey,” he said, and my heart skipped a beat like it had when we would see each other. When his lips would meet mine, when his hand would hold mine.

“Hi, Harrison,” I said, as I walked over to my bed, collapsing dramatically on it.

“Why are you calling me now?” he asked, bringing that sinking feeling in my stomach instead of my heart fluttering.

“I…I just wanted to hear your voice.” I whispered, suddenly regretting my decision to call him. He hadn’t picked up since Monday, and it was now Saturday. It was true, though. I wanted to hear his voice.

“I told you not to call me, Cora,” Harrison said, and he was right. He told me not to call him specifically, which hurt the most. I would call him at midnight sometimes, and I found comfort in knowing that he would always pick up.

“I’m sorry, Harry-” I whispered, but then he hung up.

Placing my phone down on my nightstand, I placed my arm over my eyes, blocking the world around me. I was sorry. I really was.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” I muttered, to nobody in particular. It was quiet in my bed, and I suddenly wanted there to be noise, or just something to fill the silence. Playing music felt wrong, since I would have to get up and prove I was okay to turn it on. Talking to myself was pointless, I do that enough already. So the silence kept booming all around me. I hated it.

I thought of the song that I dedicated to us.

Rain will come, but your love won’t change.

I sighed, but it was hitched. A tear peeked out of the corner of my eyes, and it meandered down my face, landing on my arm. Hadn’t I spent enough tears on this boy?

Memories came rushing through my head as I picked up my phone again, curling in a ball and diving under my covers like I did as a kid.

I dialed his numbers, and it didn’t even ring twice before it went to voicemail.

“Hi, you’ve reached Harrison. Please leave a message, and I’ll get to you whenever I can.”

I waited a little, and then the theme song of Dora the Explorer came on, and I mustered a smile. He changed it frequently, and it was nice. A little reminder that life can be simpler than you think, in some ways.

His voice spun around me like honey.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“Of course it is, Cora, you worry too much,”

“I’m just being law-abiding, unlike you.”

“We’re only jumping a fence, not selling illegal drugs or something,”

“Right, and jumping a fence into private property is normal,”

“Whatever, just climb up.”

“Okay, I’m up. Need help?”

“Nah, but thanks,”

“No problem.”

“OK, there. Now, isn’t this beautiful?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Worth jumping a fence?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Here, I got you something,”

“Oh, Harry, you didn’t have to,”

“I did. Here, take it,”

“Oh my god, are these lilies?”

“Yeah, your favorite.”

“These are my favorite, Harry, thank you so much,”

“Of course. I saw them and it made me think of you.”

“Aw, I love you,”

“I love you too,”

I still have those lilies. Whenever I saw them, I thought of him. I was the only one who called him Harry. I love him. I still do.

Rain will come, but our love won’t change.

Suddenly, I got a text. I expected it to be from mom or dad, saying that it was time for dinner, or just a spam text.

It was Harry.

If you watch over all the sparrows, how much do you love me?

I stared at the text for a long time, remembering something about it from the Bible.

After some brief Googling, I found it.

Unconditionally seen and cared for.

My throat got tight, and I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to smile or cry.

Our first kiss was at night.

“Wow, the moon is so bright tonight, Harrison, look,”

“Oh, it is. That’s awesome,”

“What’s your favorite flower?”

“What’s yours, Cora?”

“Lilies. Now you,”

“I know boys aren’t supposed to like flowers, but I really like chrysanthemum,”

“Those are really pretty, and hey, boys can like flowers,”

“They are beautiful.”

“Yeah…”

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,”

“And, by the way, call me Harry,”

I wanted to feel the taste of his lips again, soft against mine.

But for now, instead of hearing his voice, I was getting taken to voicemail.

We were slowly fading away from each other, and I wanted so bad to stay by his side.

At least he texted me.

“Cora! Dinner!” my mom called from the kitchen, which was just around the corner of my room.

“Okay,” I called back, and wiped the tears up from the corner of my eyes, grateful that I took off my mascara. Mom didn’t know that we were fighting.

That night for dinner, we had Harry’s favorite meal.

I used to make correlations to Harry everywhere I went, wondering if Harry would like this, or if Harry would laugh at that, when I had a crush on him. Those slowed when we started dating, but now they were back.

After a quick dinner, eating about two thirds, since I wasn’t really hungry, I went back to my room.

Harry had texted me again.

I’m sorry, Cora. I’ve been such an ass to you. Meet me at midnight?

I caught myself smiling widely as I got ready for bed. Near eleven, my eyes shot open and I put on a sweater over my pajama shirt, but decided to keep my pajama pants on. There were comfortable, and if we were going to be jumping fences, I wanted to be comfy while doing so.

I opened my phone, sat on my windowsill, and then put it back down. I saw our neighbor, Pat, lurking in his window, and I nearly fell over with laughter. He’s seeing a drunk-with-happiness teen, and he will probably call the cops when Harry climbs up my window, just like he did when Harry came up the first time. Poor old Pat, we like to call him.

I spent a little while spinning mindlessly around my carpet, giddy with excitement. Almost numb, but I wasn’t drunk, and I would remember this night forever.

Outside.

Harry texted me that, and if you didn’t have context, it did seem very stalker-like, but this was Harry. I loved the guy.

The familiar snap of a tree branch echoed through my brain as his familiar face appeared in my bedroom.

“Harry…”

“Cora, I’m sorry,”

He stood cautiously at the window, and then I walked over to him.

“I still love you, Harry,”

“I do too, Cora.”

I stopped just in front of him, sighing.

He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder.

Rain will come, but your love won’t change.

He let go of me, and I wanted to fall back into his arms, but he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me.

I smiled as our lips collided, and my hands rested in his brown hair.

“I will always love you, Harry.” I murmured, my lips barely away from his.

“I will always love you, Cora,” he spoke, his voice drawling all around me as he closed the space between our lips.

When our lips finally parted, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a flower.

“Harry, is that a lily?”

“Yeah,”

He handed the flower to me, and I held it lightly, feeling as if it would crumple in my hands.

I placed it on my bed, and he kissed me again.

“I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too.”