“Riddick?!” she yelled.
There was a sound nearby like gushing water from an open tap. She ran to the bathroom and discovered the tub overflowing, rolling like a waterfall on the floor, soaking the mats. Her friend was naked and submerged, drowning himself.
“Riddick!”
She reached below the surface with both hands, gently grabbed the sides of his head that rested against the ceramic, and pulled him out of the water. Holding him up with one hand on his back as he sat in the tub, she took her free hand, and turned off the valves, before finally releasing the water to flow down the drain.
She cradled his head in the crook of her arm like a baby. “Riddick?”
His eyes were closed, not responding. She was so used to seeing his Mohawk that he looked strange with his long black hair down, sticking to his skin.
She brushed it back, freeing his face. “Riddick?” She cupped his cheek, and then ran two fingers to his neck, finding a pulse. “Riddick?”
She dragged him out of the tub, laying his naked body on the white tiled floor. She was trained in CPR from a class she had to take last year that had been mandated by the school superintendent. In less than a minute, Riddick was choking up water. He motioned that he wanted to sit up, so she helped him rest against the seashell-decorated wall, as he finished expelling the last bits of water.
He turned to her, wiping his eyes clear. “Jen?” he croaked.
She smiled and placed her hand on his upper chest, sparsely covered in black hair, limp from the bathwater that continued to slowly trickle down. “Hey, honey, how’re you?”
He looked down. “I’m naked. And wet.”
“You were taking a bath.”
He lifted his head. “No.” He grabbed a towel nearby, covered up and dried himself at the same time. “I was trying to kill myself.”
“No, you weren’t. It was the Jinn. They were outside. I took care of them.”
“They may have helped, but it was all my idea. After what I did to you today, I wanted to die.”
She held him close as they remained seated on the floor. “No, don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault. You were swayed.”
“But I have Free Will, don’t I?” he countered. “I chose to listen to them.” He turned his head away from her, staring at the soaked bathmats. “If only I didn’t love you so damn much, it would’ve never happened. You should’ve pressed charges. I deserve to be in jail.”
“No, darling, no, don’t say that.” She gently held his chin, trying to pull his face to meet hers, desiring to look into his dark brown eyes; but he refused to budge so she let go. “I couldn’t stand to see you locked up when I know it wasn’t your fault.”
“Dammit, Jenna!” Riddick tore himself away from her embrace and stood up, allowing the towel to drop on the floor. “Stop trying to make excuses for me! I’m bad! I wanted to kill you! Don’t you understand?! I wanted to squeeze”—he held out his hands in demonstration—“the life from you!”
She stood up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, not caring for his nakedness.
“I forgive you.”
He hesitated, but eventually put his arms around her, holding her close as she rested her head against his still wet chest. “I can’t stop loving you. I wanna stop. I don’t wanna be the jealous guy, but I can’t give you up. I think I’ll always love you, no matter what.”
She looked up at him. “And I’ll always care for you, no matter what.”
He shook his head. “Not the way I want you to.” He cupped her cheek; it was nice, but not as warm and comforting as Malcolm’s touch. “I’ll always be alone.”
“No, don’t say that. You’ll meet the one you’re supposed to be with.” She smiled. “You’re cute and nice and smart. Any girl would be lucky to have you. She’s out there, Riddick. Trust me.”
His hand left her cheek to run his fingers through her hair before gently cupping the back of her neck. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”
She massaged his naked back. “It’s okay.”
His eyes widened.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He let go of her. “I really, really need to put some clothes on.”
“Oh.”
She stepped back from him.
“Don’t look,” he admonished but with a smile.
She covered her eyes. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”
Eyes closed, she could sense that he was still standing in the bathroom.
“You know,” he began, “if we were in a sitcom, there’s this rule that if a friend sees another friend naked, then that friend has to get naked too.”
She could hear his smile as she kept her eyes shut. “We’re not in a sitcom,” she reminded him with a bit of sarcasm.
He sighed. “Yeah, more like a horror movie.”
She heard his padded footsteps as he left the bathroom, walked down the hall, and then entered his bedroom, where he opened a dresser drawer. When she unshielded her eyes and followed, she saw that he’d already put on a pair of underwear.
She approached. “I didn’t figure you for white briefs.”
He smiled. “You just can’t help looking, can you?”
“Sorry, sorry.” She clamped a hand on either side of her head. “It’s that naughty part of my brain.” She turned to his dresser, dropped her hands, and opened another drawer. “Ah, this will help.” She took out a pair of gray jogging pants and a white T-shirt, placing them on the bed. “Put these on.”
She turned away and began walking around his room, scanning his posters of heavy metal bands, not knowing who any of them were. The only one she recognized was The Bloody Knuckles. Their poster was of a white bony hand peeling back the top of a blue-and-green earth, revealing a black diseased brain. She knew they were trying to make some sort of statement, but she was left clueless as to what.
There was a classical guitar tilted against the wall that looked oddly out of place.
She turned to him, pointing at the instrument. “I didn’t know you played.”
He already had his pants on. “It’s not mine,” he said, adjusting his T-shirt next. Then he sat on his bed; the box springs creaked. “My mom’s,” he informed. “She’d play lullabies when I was a kid. I couldn’t go to sleep without it. She left it for me when she moved.”
Jenna approached with a smile. “That’s nice. I’m sure she misses you a lot too.”
He just shrugged as if he didn’t want to discuss the subject of his mom’s desertion, leaving him in the hands of pretentious Polly.
She scanned his T-shirt. “It’s inside out and turned around.”
He looked down, saw the visible tag, and looked back up. “No big deal.”
She shook her head, tsking, and motioned for him to lift up his arms.
He did and she took the shirt off. “I’m not a baby, you know,” he reminded her. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know that.” She adjusted the shirt so that the tag was hidden and the front pocket was visible. “Arms up.”
He rolled his eyes, but lifted his arms. After she adjusted the shirt back on him, he lowered his arms, catching her wrists in his hands. “I’m all right, really,” he promised before letting her go.
She smiled, playfully mussing his dried hair before brushing it back neatly with her fingers, performing a motherly instinct. “I know. Can I just hang out with my friend?” She sat next to him on the bed; the mattress was hard. She bounced up and down, trying to massage it to a level of comfort. “I think they have better accommodations in prison,” she commented.
“You should call the cops and say you changed your mind, press charges, and then maybe I’ll get a good night’s sleep along with I’m sure”—he smiled—“a welcoming roommate.”
She looped her arm around his, resting her head against his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere. So hush. And your bed is fine.” She bounced again. “You feel that? It’s getting softer.”
“It’s getting harder,” he countered i
n a mumble.
She released her hold of him, not commenting.
“Your boyfriend’s gonna have a problem with you in my room.”
“He knew I was coming here, so don’t worry.”
Riddick laid back and covered his eyes with his arm. “Are you gonna tell him you found me naked in the tub?”
“No, don’t worry.” She stretched next to him. “I won’t tell anyone. Our little secret.” She lifted his arm away from his face. “You wanna watch TV or something?”
He chuckled. “You have no idea what I wanna do right now.”
“What do you mean?”
He faced her. “I’m a guy. You’re a girl. You held me when I was naked. I love you. Do the math.”
“Oh.”
He smiled. “Oh.”
“Earlier, during the play—”
His smile faded. “Please, I don’t wanna talk about it; I just wanna forget it ever happened.”
“No, I mean before…you tried to…” She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts straight. “You accused me of sleeping with Malcolm, and when I told you I haven’t…yet…you seemed surprised.”
“They told me you had.” He rubbed his ears. “Kept repeating it over and over, and then I saw it in my mind.” He rolled over, facing away from her. “I couldn’t stand seeing you, him, naked…”
She rubbed his back. “It’s all right.”
He rolled back over to face her. “But I have to ask, have you?”
She shook her head.
“Are you gonna?”
She sighed. “I love him; he loves me. We…wanna.” She held Riddick’s hand. “Don’t think about that. Let’s talk about something else.” She smiled, gearing up for gossip. “Did you hear Sadie? Overact-much, am I right?”
He smiled back. “Yeah, she padded her part, all right.”
“And Val! He was just making stuff up, forgetting his lines. Shakespeare was probably rolling in his grave.”
“Thanks for defending me, earlier, with him. I know there are real demons out there, but Val? He’s gotta be in league with evil. I don’t understand his hostility and arrogance.”
“He didn’t used to be like that. He wasn’t Prince Charming, but I wouldn’t have dated him, fallen in love with him, if he was like how he is now.”
“Did you still love him after he dumped you?”
“For a little while…then I got over him. I didn’t really love him. I know that now.”
“But you know you love Malcolm?”
He just couldn’t let it go. She changed the subject. “C’mon. Let’s watch TV.”
He sighed. “All right.”
They adjusted on top of his charcoal-colored bedspread, their heads against white pillows, as Riddick flipped through the channels on his TV, finally stopping on a movie marathon featuring killer robots.
“Ooh, excellent,” said Jenna, kicking her shoes off on the floor.
She snuggled against him and he put his arm around her shoulders.
“Your boyfriend’s gonna kill me, you know that right?”
“No, he’s not,” she said in a don’t-be-ridiculous tone. “Actually, he almost killed me.”
Riddick muted the loud barrage of laser blasts. “What did you say?” He’d heard her over the TV; he just needed her statement clarified.
“Well, he, along with the whole school saw me submerged in that cauldron of water by your hand, and when I was finally free, Malcolm got onstage, enraged, and tried to rip your heart out. I covered you with my body, and Malcolm stopped just in time from ripping my heart out.” She said all this casually as if it were no big deal.
“You-you defended me? So soon after I tried…”
She wrapped her arm around his chest. “I knew it wasn’t you. It was them. You knew that too. Malcolm’s anger vanished, and he’s the one who helped you up.” She looked into his eyes. “You don’t remember?”
He shook his head. “It’s kind of blurry. The only thing I remember with absolute clarity is pushing your head into that cauldron.”
“Did you know the water was gonna be hot?”
“It was?”
She nodded. “But it’s okay. Not long after freeing myself, my skin started to heal.”
“Ah, hell!” He rolled over and buried his head under a pillow.
She massaged his back. “Now, now. Don’t be that way. I’m fine. I’m a superwoman, remember? It’ll take a lot more than that to put me six feet under.”
He escaped from under the pillow and rolled over to face her. She resumed her earlier snuggling position, and he rested his hand against the small of her back. She smiled, running her fingers through his hair.
He fought to keep his eyes open, enjoying her massage. “Why are you smiling?” he asked drowsily.
“I’ve never seen you without your trademark Mohawk.”
He furrowed his brow. “Do I look bad?” he asked in an awakened tone.
“No.”
Then an eyebrow arched. “Which do you prefer?”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I like ‘em both.”
His hand left her back and cupped the side of her neck, massaging just below her ear with his thumb. Now she was getting drowsy. “I think you’re deluding yourself.”
She struggled to open her eyes, seconds away from falling asleep. “Wha?” she breathed, still intoxicated.
His hand trailed back down, resting again on the small of her back. “You love Malcolm, but you also love me. And not just as a friend.”
She was fully awake now. “Riddick—”
“I’m not trying to sway you. I can’t do that. I just want you to admit that you love me too.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“That’s not an admission.” His hand went to her arm, rubbing it. “Say it, Jen. Say it.”
“I can’t.”
“Because he’s listening?”
She turned away from him, preparing to leave. “I have to go.”
He grabbed her arm, halting her in place. “Please stay. I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again. Just…don’t leave me…not right now.” He let go of her to snatch the remote and turned up the volume on the TV. “Let’s watch the movie, okay?”
She gave him a smile, nodding, and adjusted back on the bed, resting her head against a pillow. “Just for a little while. My parents will be home soon.”
“Got it.” He relaxed, placing his head next to hers. “Are they mad at me? Your parents?”
“Very. But they’ll get over it.”
“I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.”
“No, I won’t.”
She started tickling his side, luring him out of his depression. It worked. He grinned, letting out a chuckle, and then grabbed her roaming hands, holding her wrists together as if she were being prepared for handcuffs.
“That’s your therapy? Tickling?”
She shrugged and he cautiously released her. “Worked on me when I was kid.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Really?”
“No, no, no, no, no, no!” She moved to get away from him, giggling at the anticipation of being tickled. “Not me! You!”
His arm shot out like a tentacle and snatched her waist, reeling her back to him. “Oh, I’ve had my remedy.” He gave her a mischievous smile. “It’s your turn now.”
She giggled as he held her down, pinning her below him against the mattress, his fingertips dancing all over her stomach and sides.
“Ooh, stop!” She kicked at the bedspread, almost knocking it off. “I’m gonna pee in my pants!” she warned through giggles.
He grinned in delight. “Oh, I’m never letting you go.”
He continued to tickle her until a door slammed nearby. They both turned to see Malcolm, standing before Riddick’s now shut bedroom door. His blue eyes were ablaze with…anger? Jealousy? Jenna hoped that she was reading him wrong.
“Thought that would get your attention,” he said to them.
&nb
sp; Jenna pulled herself away from Riddick’s embrace, getting off the bed. She noticed that he was hesitant to let her go.
“Malcolm—”
He raised his hand, silencing her, but gave a small smile of assurance that he wasn’t on the warpath. “Your parents are on their way home.” He let his hand fall at his side. “I wanted to come and get you before they noticed you’ve been gone all night.”
“Oh, um…thanks.” She turned to Riddick; he’d gotten off the bed, but was keeping a good distance from Malcolm, while staying close to her. “Are you okay with me leaving?”
He forced a smile. “It’s all right. I don’t wanna get you in trouble. I’ll be fine.”
She put her shoes back on and walked cautiously to Malcolm. “Are we…I mean, can you take me home or—?”
She was cut off as he took her in his arms, pushing her roughly against him. “I’m here for you.” He kissed her, taking his time, lingering his lips against hers to make a point.
She felt embarrassed, knowing Riddick was just a few feet away. When she summoned up the courage to turn to him, her heart almost broke from the look of sorrow in his dark brown eyes.
“See you tomorrow,” he said softly, but it sounded more like a question.
“Tomorrow,” she confirmed with a warm smile.
Malcolm didn’t say goodbye, tearing Jenna away from Riddick as they teleported. When they reappeared inside her bedroom, she collapsed on the seat cushion of her wicker chair.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your way of traveling.”
He crouched before her and smiled. “You will. You’re strong.”
After a few seconds of adjusting to supernatural flight, she leaned forward and looked into his fiery blue eyes. “I saved Riddick from killing himself. He said he wanted to do it, but the Jinn were also there, pushing him.”
He kissed her hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He stood up and placed his hands in his pockets. He seemed…worried? Then he walked to her window, staring at nothing in particular, keeping his back to her. “I have to tell you something: I was listening in. I’m sorry for the invasion of privacy, but I couldn’t help it.”
She wasn’t surprised. “Are you mad at me?”
He shook his head, but didn’t turn to face her. “There’s nothing for me to be mad at. You love him. He loves you more. You knew him before you knew me.” He freed one of his hands, running it through his gorgeous black hair. “I’m jealous.”
Burning Hearts Page 17
