Page 133 of Lilly

Maybe Reed and I should leave and go somewhere else, but I don't know where to go. We need to be someplace private where we won't be interrupted. We might as well stay here. At least Dean is at work.

"Let's go in my room," Reed says, taking my hand.

"Let's just stay here."

"Why?"

"I can't stay long." My eyes bounce all over the room, avoiding Reed. I can't look at him or I'll never be able to say the words.

"Lilly, don't do this." His hand goes under my chin and he lifts my face to his. "Just tell me what's wrong and we'll work it out."

Our eyes meet and I feel my heart cracking into pieces. "Reed." A tear slides down my cheek.

"Shit," he whispers. "You ARE breaking up with me."

I close my eyes, not wanting to see the hurt on his face.

His hand tugs on mine. "Come on." He pulls me to his bedroom and closes the door.

"Reed, we're not..."

"That's not why I took you in here."

"Then why?"

He goes to his closet. "I was going to give this to you on our first day back at college but...here." He pulls out a large metal frame and hands it to me.

Inside the frame are nine small paintings, all of me with different expressions. I take it over to the bed and sit down.

"I call it the nine faces of Lilly." He laughs lightly. "Remember when we first met, and how we both said we paint emotion?"

I nod, remembering that day. It was the first time I told anyone that. I even told Reed the reason why, which was something only my family knew.

"I painted your emotions," he says. "Happy, sad, frustrated, angry, lonely, afraid...then I put them all together."

I study the pictures. They're like photos but better because you can actually feel the emotion. The way Reed paints is amazing. I still don't know how he does it. How he can so accurately capture how someone feels with paint and a brush.

"It's beautiful," I say softly. "But why? Why did you do this?"

He sits beside me. "Because you said your mom never let you express emotion. That you were forced to hold it all inside. I guess I just wanted to show you that you're not like that anymore. Your mom doesn't have control over you. You're your own person now. You express your emotions, good or bad. And if you don't believe me, it's all right here." He points to the pictures.

Forget about holding back the tears. I can't do it. My eyes are overflowing, tears running down my face. This is the best gift he's ever given me. It shows how well he knows me. How much he listens to me. How much he understands me.

Last year at this time, I was struggling to break free from my mom's control. Even though she lives across the country, I still felt like she controlled me. I was afraid to show emotion because she always scolded me when I did. My earliest memories are of her yelling at me for crying. So I never did. I wouldn't cry in front of people. Or get angry. Or sad. I held it all inside, my only outlet for it being my art.

But with Reed's help, I stopped holding it all inside. I stopped letting my mom control me. I stopped being afraid of her. It wasn't easy. I kept going back to old habits. Hiding how I felt. Pretending I was fine when I wasn't. Reed called me on it every time I acted that way, and then we'd talk. Some nights we talked for hours and wouldn't get to sleep until morning. I've never had a friend who would be there for me like that. But Reed was. He was with me through everything I went through last year and now he's captured it in his artwork. This gift means more to me than I can even express.

"Why are you crying?" he asks, rubbing my arm. "You don't like it?"

"I love it." I set it down. "It's perfect."

"Then what's wrong?"

I shake my head. "I don't want to say this."

"Then don't." He lifts me up into his arms, setting me on his lap. "Whatever's wrong, we'll find a way to fix it. Nothing is worth ending this for, Lilly. We love each other. We understand each other. We care about each other more than anything."

I lay my head on his shoulder, my face buried in his neck, the scent of him surrounding me, comforting me.

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