Burning Hearts by Melanie Matthews

thanks.” She decided to lessen the drama; it was already hot
enough on the bus. She waved the small black book in the air.
“Should I read this in secret? Any profanity? Naughty words?
Explicit content?”
    He chuckled. “It’s perfectly PG.” He wobbled
his hand. “Maybe PG-Thirteen.” Then he held up his hand in a halt
gesture. “No R. You’re safe from prying eyes.”
    She pouted. “Ah, I was hoping for some
raunchy material.”
    He blushed. “All that’s up here,” he said,
tapping at his temple.
    She chuckled, not disturbed at his thoughts
of her naked. It was only normal. She wondered if Malcolm had
thought about her that way too…
    She turned to a grinning Pru, who was drawing
a heart shape with her forefingers.
    Jenna just rolled her eyes.
     
    ~~~
     
    They were dropped off at Caleb’s and soon,
Kylie joined them.
    “ I’m so excited! And can you
believe it?! Val’s been benched! Malcolm’s gonna be quarterbacking
tonight!”
    Riddick punched his fist in the air. “Yeah!
We might actually have a chance at winning!” He shrugged and
dropped his hand. “Not that I care.”
    Kylie pinched his cheek. “Oh, Riddick! Always
pretending to be a sourpuss.”
    “ Yeah, that’s right. Pretending .” He held up
both hands, snapped his fingers, and pointed two guns at her,
smiling. “You got me!”
    She rolled her eyes. “Just get in the damn
van.”
    Everyone crowded inside. Jenna sat in the
rear with her backpack on her lap, devoid of all school material.
Pru sat with Kylie in the middle while Caleb sat up front. Mrs.
Dasher turned the radio up loud to country music. Riddick plugged
in his ear buds and turned up his heavy metal mix. “Death is My
Friend” by The Bloody Knuckles blasted out.
    While he gazed out the window, Jenna took the
opportunity to read his poems. It would take a car accident or a
kiss from Jenna to get him to stop listening to his
eardrum-rupturing music.
    She noticed pages had been torn out,
especially at the beginning, where the oldest poems would be. The
later poems, the last one dated yesterday, dealt with his love for
her.
    Riddick wasn’t a bad poet, but he was
repetitive.
    One poem was particularly sad:
    DREAMS OF JENNA
    During the darkest
nights
    My mind takes flight
    Rising into that lit
place
    Where I can behold her
face
    Laughing in glee
    As she flees from me
    I chase her, call out her
name
    But to her it’s just a
game
    My hopes, her playthings
    My cries, her gains
    She stops, giving me
hope
    But I’m just a dope
    Letting her cut my wings
    Watching me fall and break as she
sings
    A song of joy for my
death
    Yet I love her still as I take my
final breath
     
    She nudged him. He turned to her and pulled
out his ear buds. “Yeah?”
    She held up the book. “Why are so many pages
torn out?”
    He turned off his iPod. “I don’t want you to
read those.”
    “ Why not?”
    “ That was from before we
were friends.”
    “ I don’t understand. You
said you loved me then.”
    “ I did. But I also hated
you. The poems I tore out reflected that. My words about you were
cruel, but I always ended with tortured affection.”
    “ Tortured?”
    “ It’s torture when you love
someone, and you know they’ll never love you back.”
    She held his hand, gentle in care. “Oh,
Riddick.” She sighed. “I dunno what to say.”
    He squeezed her hand, and then interlaced his
fingers with hers. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to say nothing.” He
smiled. “Of course, if you suddenly declared your love for me, I
wouldn’t question it, but I’m not gonna hate you ’cause you don’t
feel the same way. I’ll always be your friend, and I’ll always love
you.”
    She fought back tears—tears of joy at being
loved—and tears of sadness at not being able to return his
sentiment.
    “ If…if we were to start
dating and things didn’t work out, you know what that would mean,
right?”
    He nodded and gestured with his free hand to
the passengers up front, seemingly