Burning Hearts (10 page)

“
I’m kinda disappointed,”
Kylie confessed. “All this talk of Valentine Lockhart and he wears
plain white briefs.”

“
He’s improved,” Jenna
defended unexpectedly. “The last time I was at his house, his mom
was washing his Superman boxers.”

“
Hmm.” Riddick rubbed his
chin. “I would’ve figured him more for a Hello, Kitty kinda
guy.”

“
But what made him do that?”
Caleb pondered. “Val’s all for attention, but that was…”

“
Embarrassing,” finished
Pru.

Kylie nodded. “Yeah, he seemed fine until he
started talking to Malcolm.”

Jenna tensed. “What do you mean?”

“
Well, I noticed that Val
looked like his usually smug self, but when he started chatting
with Malcolm…” She shrugged. “I dunno. His face
changed.”

“
He looked more like an
asshole?” Riddick guessed.

Kylie shook her head. “He just didn’t look
himself. Like he wasn’t even aware. And then, he’s stripped and
singing.”

“
Think he’ll get expelled?”
asked Pru.

“
Oh, I hope so!” Riddick
crossed his fingers briefly. “It would certainly endear me more to
this crappy school.”

Jenna shook her head. “Not a chance. He’s the
quarterback, remember? Principal Greene’s not gonna risk it.”

“
Why?” asked Riddick. “It’s
not like the Scorpions were doing that great with him
anyway.”

“
Well, they weren’t good,
but they weren’t bad either. I hate to say it but without Val that
whole team would fall apart.”

Riddick shook his head. “I can’t believe you
were in love with him.”

Jenna narrowed her eyes, furious. “Who’re you
to judge me?” Her voice was soft, but menacing.

Kylie, Pru, and Caleb slowly edged away.

Riddick stirred with uneasiness, his dark
brown eyes widening. “I’m sorry, Jen. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t
understand.”

She raised her voice. “I fell in love!”

He furrowed his brow. “But why him?!”

“
Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see
you first!”

His face twitched, angry. “You never saw me
at all!” He grabbed his backpack and stormed off just as the bell
rang.

Kylie grunted. “Why’d you have to kiss
him?”

Jenna replied by letting her head fall on the
table with a bang!

RESCUED, AGAIN

“
Well, Jenna, this is
extraordinary! Class! Class! Look at what your fellow artist
painted. This is what I meant by ‘
exposing
your soul
.’”

Ms. Rush-Holliday placed Jenna’s painting on
view for the whole class to see and use as a guide toward exposing
their souls. Everyone looked on in bewilderment, even Malcolm,
who’d been occasionally glancing at Jenna.

“
And to think,” Caleb began,
“all this time I’d been actually painting a picture—with
objects
.”

“
It is a picture,” Jenna
countered. “The teach said so. It’s my soul, represented in oil
paint, on canvas.”

“
It looks like it was done
by a kindergartner.”

Jenna studied her masterpiece, covered in
nothing but the color red.

She shrugged. “I guess my soul is five years
old.”

After her major tiff with Riddick during
lunch, she hadn’t been in the mood to paint the original idea for
the illustration of her soul: red roses. But being drawn to the
color red, she’d dipped the brush into the paint and applied it to
the white cloth, haphazardly slapping the bristles back and forth
until the canvas looked like it’d been murdered. When she’d taken a
step back to admire her work, she was satisfied with the end
result. And so was the teacher, who’d gushed with an artgasm all
over it.

The other students tried to do the same,
choosing other colors like black and blue, acting sly, but the
teacher clicked her tongue is disapproval, shaking her head.
Apparently, thrice-divorced Ms. Rush-Holliday could tell when
someone’s soul wasn’t accurately exposed.

Near the end of class, Caleb’s soul was
exposed to be a man in silhouette, standing outside a crowd of
people in bright colors.

“
What’s that supposed to
mean?” asked Jenna.

“
The silhouette represents
me, while the people in color are society.”

“
Huh?”

“
I can’t walk, but I wanna;
even if I got prosthetics that wouldn’t change the fact that I
don’t have real legs. I’d still be an outsider. Hence—me in all
black, while everyone else is in various colors.”

“
Wow, that’s
deep.”

“
Well, not as deep as
yours.” He nodded to the display board. “The teacher didn’t even
put it up.”

“
It’s still better than
mine. You actually drew something.”

“
Apparently, she likes the
disturbed ones,” he teased with a dimpled smile. “Take a look at
the one next to yours.”

She turned to see the teacher with Malcolm,
displaying his work. If Jenna’s soul was disturbed, then so was the
new guy’s. And eerily familiar. In the center of the canvas was a
black pupil, wreathed in red flame.

~~~

During calculus, Jenna took the opportunity
to study the back of Malcolm’s head. His raven black hair was shiny
and full. Maybe it was something in the Egyptian water. She thought
about who he was, where he came from, and why he was in Oasis.
Eventually, she had to look away, finding it harder and harder to
resist tapping him on the shoulder and demanding an
interrogation.

Normally, she wouldn’t be so determined to
get to know the new guy. But the question of his fiery blue eyes
was just begging for an answer. Why were the flames blue instead of
red? And what did he know about the Jinn? Clearly, his art project
wasn’t a coincidence. He knew something.

And past events weren’t a coincidence either:
her visions of killing people with fiery red eyes; her discovery of
a destiny to slay evil beings called the Jinn; her ability as the
only one to see the new guy’s fiery blues.

Their initial contact—that spark of
electricity—had jolted an awakening inside her; more than when
she’d first held her grandpa’s heirlooms. His touch had allowed her
to decipher a foreign language engraved on a sharp knife and a
flashy necklace. From the tattered journal of an ancestor’s secret
life, it’d brought forth words on paper, as if they’d been written
with invisible ink.

But it also rattled her nerves.

She wanted to kill him.

She wanted to save him.

She hated him.

She loved him.

“
Miss Love?”

She looked up from her pop quiz at Mr. Worth.
“Yeah?”

He flared his nostrils. “Again.”

She stifled an eye roll. “Yes, sir?”

“
I’m going to call ‘time’ in
five minutes, and you haven’t written anything down. Do you want to
pass my class and graduate?”

“
Yes, sir,” she
grumbled.

She put pencil to paper and concentrated on
the first problem. The lead tip didn’t move. Frustrated and
embarrassed, she found it difficult to recollect anything from the
past week’s lectures.

She let out a loud sigh.

“
Mr. Worth?”

She looked up, distracted by the new guy’s
voice that was beginning to lose its accent.

She’d never finish her quiz now.

The teacher swiveled his magnified eyes to
Malcolm, less-than-thrilled that a student was addressing him
during quiz time. “Yes, Mr. King?” He sounded annoyed.

Malcolm didn’t seem to notice. Or he didn’t
care. “Jenna’s right hand is wounded.” He spoke softly as if luring
someone to sleep. “It’s hard for her to write. She needs more time
as does the rest of the class. Can we have until the end of the
period to finish the quiz?”

The students looked in awe at Malcolm, and
then in hope at Mr. Worth.

He adjusted his square-rimmed glasses as if
he were trying to regain focus. Then he said something shocking.
“Well, uh, yes. Yes, that’s admissible.”

The students sighed in relief and went back
to the quizzes, going over their answers, erasing and correcting
obvious mistakes.

“
Also,” Malcolm continued,
“I think it’s best if Jenna told me her answers, and I could write
them down for her, considering her hurt hand.”

Mr. Worth nodded. Another shock. “That’s
quite all right.”

The students, especially Val, who’d recovered
from his embarrassing act in the cafeteria, seemed perplexed at
Malcolm’s ability to sway Mr. Worth; but everyone kept quiet,
focusing on their work.

Malcolm turned around with his fiery blue
eyes, smiling. He took her quiz. “I’m going to do the work for
you,” he whispered.

If there was such a word as “super-shocked,”
and if it had an illustration in the dictionary, it’d be her face,
mouth hanging.

“
But-but if Mr. Worth
notices me silent, he’ll know that’s what you’re doing,” she
whispered back.

He smiled. “But you won’t be silent. While I
work, I want you to tell me about yourself.”

“
You wanna know about
me?”

He nodded. “Everything.”

“
But there’s only twenty
minutes left until class ends.”

“
Well, you can begin now and
finish at the game.”

She furrowed her brow. “You’re gonna go to
the game?”

He chuckled. “Yes, why?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. You don’t seem like
you’d be interested in that stuff.”

He lifted his lips in a half smile. “And what
sort of stuff do you think I’m interested in?”

She was speechless. Then she found her voice,
making clipped responses. “Dunno. Sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. You tell me
about you. And I’ll tell you about me.” He pointed the pencil’s
eraser at her. “You first.”

He started working on her quiz, answering
each problem with what Jenna assumed to be absolute accuracy.

He paused and looked up at her, smiling. “I’m
waiting, Jenna.”

“
Oh, um, well…”

He looked back down, continuing his work.

“…
I was born in Oasis. My
parents run a funeral home and crematorium. I’m an only
child.”

He paused again, looked up, and shook his
head, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Jenna. I could’ve found
out that from the internet. Tell me something no one knows. A
secret, even.”

Who does this guy think he is?

“
If I had a secret, why
would I tell you?” she asked rather crossly.

He focused his fiery blue eyes at her as if
he had X-ray vision; she hoped that he didn’t.

“
You don’t feel the sudden
urge to divulge?”

She fought to suppress a gasp of indignation.
“Is this about my quiz?” She raised her voice, but not enough to
attract attention. “Are you gonna stop ’cause I’m not
cooperating?”

He looked wounded. “No, Jenna. That’s not my
agenda. I just want to get to know you better.”

“
Why?” She’d lowered her
voice, feeling bad about her earlier mistaken accusation, but still
confused by his deep interest in her.

“
You’re different than the
other students. Unique.”

She swallowed, nervous. “I’m just like
everyone else,” she countered in a meek voice.

“
In a way, yes, you are.” He
smiled. “But mostly, you’re not.”

The conversation had gone from interesting to
dangerous in a nanosecond. She decided to joke. “Is it the red
hair? I’m totally special in that case. There’s like two other
students in the whole school with red hair.”

He smiled again. “Yes, that’s exactly what I
meant. It’s your beautiful hair.” He extended his hand and with his
fingertips, lightly brushed where her hair met her shoulder. She
fought to contain a shudder of libidinous excitement. “There aren’t
many in the world like you, Jenna Love.”

The bell rang and it was like a gong had been
smashed next to her ear. She jumped in her seat.

“
Time’s up,” said Malcolm,
ignoring her nerves.

The class turned in their quizzes to an
uncharacteristically tranquil Mr. Worth, sitting at his desk,
staring at his daily planner. She watched as Malcolm turned in
their work.

“
See you Monday, Mr.
Worth.”

The teacher looked up at his persuasive
student. “Yes, yes, Monday. New week. New lessons.”

“
I can’t wait.” Malcolm’s
tone was bordering on sarcastic as he bent down to retrieve his
backpack, and then adjusted the strap over his shoulder.

She expected him to walk back to her, but he
turned, and went out of the room.

She grabbed her own backpack and adjusted
both straps over her shoulders.

“
Hey, Malcolm, wait
up!”

He stopped outside the door. “Yes?”

“
Why’d you help me? And
how’d you get Mr. Worth to agree to that?”

Instead of immediately answering, he smiled
and leaned his shoulder casual-sexy-like against the wall that was
painted with a big red scorpion. “You asked two questions, but I’ll
only answer one.”

She waited, stifling an eye roll.

Finally, he said, “I helped you because you
needed it.”

She wasn’t satisfied. “What’re you? Some
kinda Good Samaritan?” she asked sarcastically.

He raised his eyebrow. “Good?” He shook his
head. “No, I’m not good.” He seemed deadly serious until he smiled.
“Samaritan? No, I’m half-Egyptian, half-American.”