Riven

by Lissa Del

  “I figured as much. You have a terrible poker-face.” He squeezes my hand. “But I thought it might be a bit over the top to have them delivered to your parents’ place, and I didn’t fancy bringing them all up from the car.”

  I move to pick up a rose nearest me and inhale the sweet scent. Leo picks up a festive-looking red envelope off the table in the hall. The sight of his bloody hands is painful to look at.

  “Merry Christmas, Sarah,” he murmurs, handing it to me.

  I pull on the gold ribbon, which falls away and lift the flap. I gaze down at the tickets, incapable of speech.

  “You always say how much you enjoyed that trip with your folks,” Leo says, sounding unsure of himself, “and I’ve never been so….”

  He doesn’t finish, the wind knocked out of him as I throw myself against him, kissing him hard on the mouth. Inside the envelope are two open tickets to London.

  CHAPTER 20

  We didn’t report the attempted mugging, although I became a lot more vigilant after that. Leo’s hands healed and we put the incident behind us.

  Time seems to have sped up during the winter semester. It’s almost impossible to keep up with the workload and even Jess has cancelled Game Night three weeks in a row. Apparently all the mentors are trying to compete with Dianna and the library seems to be permanently packed with fifth-years. Thank God for Leo. He has taken to getting home early and doing the cooking, which tastes far better than anything I usually concoct. Most nights I get home late, fork up a few mouthfuls of dinner and then spend two or three hours at the small dining-room table, working on my thesis. Leo and I have both agreed that our London trip will have to be taken during the summer break – a celebration of my being awarded the advanced placement, he says. Or a commiseration if I’m not, I point out.

  Despite my hectic schedule, I elect to bunk the day after Valentine’s Day. It turns out Tom Hardy really is featuring in the new Mission Impossible movie and his namesake, Tom, has it on good information that a scene is being filmed downtown on the 15th.

  Feeling nostalgic, guilty and thrilled all at the same time, the three of us pile into a cab and make our way downtown. We can’t get near the set so we walk the last few blocks.

  “This could be it!” Tom is leading the way. “The beginning of the rest of my life!”

  “You still think you’re going to convert two hundred pounds of pure British testosterone?” Jess teases.

  “You never know, Jess, my dear, you never know!”

  We reach the edge of the crowd gathered around the set. There are barricades in place to keep the adoring fans out but somehow we manage to squeeze through the masses until we’re pressed right up against them. There are strict ‘NO ENTRY’ signs posted at five-yard intervals.

  “Oh my God, there he is!” Tom squeals, pointing at a short man with a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. An excited ripple runs through the people nearest us at this proclamation. Jess squints at the man intently, ignoring the jostling.

  “That’s not him,” she says. “He doesn’t have a beard.”

  “Maybe he has one in this movie,” Tom drawls, his eyes practically rolling up into his head at her ignorance.

  “I don’t know, I think Jess might be right,” I say. The suspected Tom Hardy looks a little too rough around the edges and a little too old.

  “You two are hopeless. You wouldn’t know a megastar if he bit you in the ass.”

  Suddenly, Jess lets out a shriek of pure excitement.

  “That’s where you’re wrong!” she gasps, waving her hands frantically to the left of a large trailer. “Holy shit!” I exclaim, as I see what she’s spotted. Tom Cruise is standing only a few hundred yards away, dressed all in black and taking instruction from a man who I can only assume is the director. I whip out my phone, determined to get a picture.

  The sight of him, however, proves too much for our own dear Tom. With a leap that would put even Omar McLeod to shame, he vaults over the waist-high barricade.

  “Tom!” I yell, watching in shocked horror as he sprints across the space, dodging two beefy security guards. Spurred into action, the balance of the set’s security team moves, forming a formidable line between Brooks and Cruise.

  I look helplessly to Jess, but she’s buckled over in hysterics.

  “Go Tom!” she yells, fist-punching the air in encouragement.

  Tom goes. He doesn’t slow down, sprinting the last few yards before pummelling into the black-clad security guards nearest him. Meeting a wall of solid muscle, however, stops him in his tracks. I can hear him screaming, beckoning Tom Cruise over - as one does, Jess points out later, - but the actor’s jaw is hanging open in a shocked expression and his stance has changed. He’s getting ready to bolt.

  His personal security usher him away as our friend continues to yell, waving his hands above his head, until they are forcibly shoved behind his back and a set of cuffs finally restrains him.

  “Oh shit,” Jess wheezes, unable to catch her breath. I glance down at her and my shoulders start to shake. Within seconds, we are both laughing hysterically, while the crowd around us tuts disapprovingly at such an outrageous display of lack of self-control.

  Between us, Jess and I scrape together Tom’s bail money. Leo offered to pay, but I refused. I had called him on the way to the police station.

  “Don’t you worry,” I tell him, “Tom’s going to pay every cent back.”

  “Damn right he is,” Jess agrees as I hang up. “I can’t believe the idiot actually did that.”

  “It was freaking funny, though. Should we take him out to dinner to lift his spirits? He can pay.”

  Jess shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable.

  “I can’t,” she says, “I have a whole bunch of work to do. Luke isn’t happy with my lack of effort,” she adds grumpily, but I have the weird feeling that she’s not being entirely honest.

  By the beginning of March my nerves are completely frayed; the stress and the late nights spent working finally catching up with me.

  “That’s it,” Jess announces one afternoon, slapping her hands palm-down on the desk where we are working side-by-side. “Game Night is on this Friday, come hell or high water; I need a break.”

  “From what I hear you’ve hardly been slaving over your studies,” Tom yawns from across the table. I frown in confusion as a red stain suffuses Jess’s cheeks.

  “What do you mean?” I ask Tom. He just shrugs, sticking his handsome head back into the textbook open before him. I know things must be bad if Tom is applying himself. The pressure of this year is getting to everyone. I glance between him and Jess. It’s the first time I’ve spent time with them together in ages, but there seems to be an icy chill between them.

  “Have you been partying?” I ask Jess dubiously.

  “A bit,” she admits.

  An obvious snort comes from Tom’s textbook.

  “What?” Jess snaps.

  “If you call going down to the pub almost every night ‘a bit’, then that’s your business,” he drawls, leaving the implication hanging.

  “Jess?” I ask.

  “Okay, a few times. It’s hardly every night,” she adds, glaring at Tom. He doesn’t even lift his head.

  “But you’ve cancelled Game Night so many times! I thought you were working!”

  “Well I’m not cancelling this week! Besides, it’s not like you’ve minded.” I flinch at that. It’s true, I’ve been nothing short of relieved for the extra time to work on my thesis and spend a few precious hours with Leo but Jess’s sudden anger is so unexpected. She seems to realise this and adopts a friendlier tone. “So we’re on for Friday?”

  “Definitely.” I nod.

  “Tom?” she asks, glaring at the top of his head.

  He peers at us over the book, looking more like his usual self.

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Friday dawns and I drive into college with Leo. Due to my erratic hours lately I’ve been taking my own car or
catching a cab home when I run expectedly late. Leo has been unbelievably understanding and just feeling the warmth of his hand on my thigh makes me wish this academic year was over.

  “I cannot wait for London,” I sigh, leaning over to rest my head on his shoulder. He drops a quick kiss on my forehead before turning his attention back to the road.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he says, and I raise my head to look up at him. “After London, when we get back… maybe I should put my apartment on the market.”

  I lean back slowly, sitting straight up in my seat. Leo risks a quick glance at me, trying to gauge my reaction

  “I mean, I spend all of my time at your place and I just… it might be easier if we…” he trails off, his eyes flicking between me and the road. “Oh God,” he groans, “you’re not saying anything. Forget I mentioned it. Let’s just rewind back to London and how excited you are about our trip.”

  “Are you asking me to move in with you?” I ask, and he hears the delighted teasing in my voice. “Well, technically, I’m asking if I can move in with you. Officially, that is.”

  It makes perfect sense. It’s still a while away, but, after the summer, Leo and I will have been dating for a year, not that it matters. The heart doesn’t beat to an appropriate clock. I love him. I want nothing more than to be with him and the more permanent, the better.

  “I would love that,” I say simply.

  “It’s my cooking that sealed the deal, isn’t it?” he teases as we pull into the campus lot, but his crooked grin is impossible to miss.

  I go about the day in a bubble of happiness. Not even my weekly meeting with Samantha in Dianna’s office can dampen my mood.

  “I’m impressed,” Dianna says, once we’ve finished presenting the week’s work. “You’ve both accomplished a lot in a short space of time and you should be proud of yourselves.” Coming from Dianna this is high praise indeed. “As you know, your final thesis will only be graded at the end of the academic year, to be counted toward your final mark, but the Burke & Duke selection committee will make their decision at the end of next quarter so the two of you need to be ready by then. They understand that they will only see the provisional draft, but I would like you to treat this as though it is your final. Don’t let me down.” Samantha and I both nod solemnly and Dianna smiles. “Now go and enjoy your weekend, I’ll see you again next week.”

  I emerge from the campus building laden with files and textbooks and Leo rushes forward to help me.

  “How did it go?” he asks as he relieves me of almost everything I’m carrying. He makes it look easy while I rub my aching back.

  “Good. I just don’t know how I’m going to finish by the end of next semester.”

  “You’ll have to work through the break.” He offers me an encouraging smile. “And I’m always here to help. It’s only three more months of pushing and then you can relax.”

  “True,” I sigh. I hate complaining, but I’m exhausted and the thought of spending the two-week break working isn’t something I’m looking forward to, especially since Leo and I will be celebrating our six-month anniversary during that time.

  “At least we have the weekend away,” I say, the thought of two nights at Serenity brightening my mood considerably.

  “Sarah, we can postpone that,” Leo says gently. “If you have to work through…”

  “No way,” I state firmly, “I need to get out of here. Besides, it’s three weeks away, I’ll just pull a few all-nighters and get ahead of schedule.”

  “I’m glad to know that a dirty weekend away with me is worth your health for the next few weeks.” Leo boasts as he loads my stuff onto the backseat of the SUV.

  “You wish,” I reply, laughing, “I’m going to spend that entire weekend sleeping.”

  “Even in the Rasul?” his blue eyes sparkle with ill-concealed mirth and my cheeks warm as I recall our last intimate experience in the steam room.

  “I might be able to stay awake in the Rasul,” I concede.

  I lean back against the heated leather seat and close my eyes as Leo reverses out of the parking spot. I’d never admit it but I’ve grown to love his car and the luxury it offers. It certainly beats catching a cab and my Fiat, while reliable, is nowhere near as comfortable.

  “Are we still on for Game Night?” Leo asks and I open one eye.

  “Unless you want to call Jess and cancel?”

  “Ah, hell no! I value my life.”

  “Then we’re still on.”

  We stop for wine and grab a few bags of crisps to see us through and then head back to my place.

  “I’m just warning you that Jess is probably going to drag us out tonight,” I say as we take the short ride up in the elevator. “We haven’t had a Game Night in a while and she’s not going to let us off that easy. She’s on a mission.” In truth, even though I’m exhausted and I have a ton of work to do, I would go anyway. Jess hasn’t been herself the past couple of weeks and I’ve had hardly any time to catch up with her. I don’t know what’s going on between her and Tom either, but hopefully tonight I’ll get some answers. Guilt pricks at my conscience, but I push it away. I know that Tom and Jess are thrilled for me and they don’t resent my relationship with Leo for a second, but I don’t want to be that person who hooks up with a guy and abandons her friends.

  “You know, party is my middle name.” Leo gives a ridiculous disco impersonation and I laugh out loud as the elevator doors open.

  I rush to take a shower and get changed while Leo prepares the snacks, which basically requires him to dump the crisps in a bowl and check that there are enough clean wine glasses. I leave the water running to heat up and pad naked down the hall to fetch a towel from the linen closet. Towels tumble to the floor in a heap when I open it. I really should repack it when I get a chance. I’m stuffing the towels back when I hear Leo’s voice. Wondering if Jess or Tom have arrived early, I peek around the corner, wrapping a bath towel around my naked body just in case. Leo is standing alone in the living-room with his back to me, his phone pressed to his ear. So they haven’t arrived yet. I turn to head back to the hot shower that awaits me, shivering with cold, when something in Leo’s tone makes me freeze.

  “Things have changed,” he says flatly, “I can’t let you drag this out any longer. I won’t let you ruin this for me.” There is a silence so deep that I fear he’ll hear the frantic thudding of my heart. He turns slightly to the left and I slip back behind the wall, pressing my back against the cold surface. “You don’t get to talk about her,” Leo says, his voice low and threatening. Another pause and then, “Yeah, well I’m done being nice. Just stay away from me.” I am so aware of him that, even with the space between us, I sense when he moves. I’m surprised he’s stood still this long – he can never stay in one place when he’s on the phone. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping I bolt back down the hall. By the time he comes to check on me I’m in the shower, the warm water cascading over me doing nothing to melt the cold grasp of anxiety that has settled in my bones.

  CHAPTER 21

  Tom and Jess arrive before I am out of the shower and I’m grateful for the distraction of their company, which at least keeps my mind off the strange, one-sided conversation I overheard. I keep replaying Leo’s words over in my head but for the life of me I cannot figure them out. Was it an ex-lover on the phone or one of Leo’s old friends – the ones he cut out of his life? And what could they possibly be threatening to ruin? I don’t want to believe it could be our relationship, but if it is, surely I deserve to know what is going on?

  On top of this concern I’m convinced that there is definitely something going on between Tom and Jess. Usually, they’re the life of any party and as thick as thieves – Tom and Jess against the world they always joke, which I usually kind of resented - but tonight they will barely even look at each other and all I want is for them to go back to the way they’ve always been. Things haven’t felt the same between them since the day Tom was arrested for trespassing on the f
ilm set, which was the last time the three of us had been together, outside of campus. I’ve tried calling Jess a few times since then but she hasn’t returned my calls, sending brief texts saying she’s working.

  “I’m on Sarah’s team,” Jess announces as she sets up the Charades board. Her eyes are glittering and she’s even more energetic than usual, despite the fact that she refuses to even acknowledge Tom’s presence.

  “What’s going on with you two?” I ask, keeping my voice down while the men are distracted.

  “Nothing,” she snaps. “I’m just sick of his constant judging. He should focus on his own life rather than getting all up in my business.”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Tom drawls cattily. Leo, as usual, doesn’t look in the least bit uncomfortable with their arguing as he opens a bottle of wine.

  “Good!” Jess retorts, “then maybe you’ll actually do something about it.”

  “I’m so sorry for trying to be a good friend, Jess. My bad! But have you even stopped to think that if you actually believed you weren’t doing anything wrong you wouldn’t be so secretive.”

  I try to wrap my head around his words. I must have missed something big, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what it could be.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, then?” I ask Tom, throwing discretion to the wind.

  “Where do I start?” Tom says dramatically. “Well, first off, Jess is pissed because her divine crush is gay.”

  “He is not gay!” Jess yells, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

  “That’s what this is about?” I would laugh if the situation wasn’t so absurd. “You’re still arguing over that guy? It’s been months!”

  “His name is Jackson,” Jess reminds me, “and he’s not just some guy. And he’s definitely not gay!” she adds, hurling the words in Tom’s general direction. The cork pulls free of the bottle with an audible pop, as if adding emphasis to her words.

  “Wine?” Leo asks the room at large, holding the bottle up in the air.