Disclaimer- Don't own Boondocks
Jazmine didn't say anything as she sat down on his couch. Despite her silence, Huey still covered her with a towel since she was shivering from her being wet. He couldn't help but wonder how someone could possibly be so perfect. It was true: she really was perfect. Even her wet locks and strands somehow managed to appear orderly. Her lips, though tinted with a purplish blue hue, were pursed in such a way that alluded to class and dignity. Her hands, now drawing the towel around her and then slowly closing it in front of her chest, were made up of fingers so slender.
He never had the chance to truly gaze at her any way he wanted since she always seemed to react in frustration and annoyance. Now he had the chance for she was completely indifferent to him, out of this world, in fact. Perhaps this was what it meant for him to be an opportunist, he chuckled.
"Jazmine?" he whispered as he sat down next to her.
"Yeah?" she shivered.
The reply shocked him somewhat since he half-expected her to continue remaining silent. Now, he was at a loss of words.
"What do you want?" she asked quietly.
"No," he said, "it's about what you want." With a smile, he continued, "What do you want me to do to help you?"
She sighed heavily, and looked down, perhaps pondering over what she could demand from him. Then, she said, "Take me home."
She was scaring him, he thought. Why was she being calm after… after almost getting raped? What did she have in mind?
"Well?" she raised an eyebrow, questioning him.
"You got it," he stood up and invitingly put out his left palm in front of her. With no hesitation, she placed her hand in his. The coldness of her hand was so shocking that it almost made him drop her hand, but he didn't and instead, tightened his fingers around it.
However, she immediately withdrew her hand from his firm grip. Apparently, she's becoming paranoid, he thought.
"Do you want me to call the police?" he offered.
"No," she quickly responded, "just take me home."
All right, he thought as he nodded to her. He had often heard that people temporarily traumatized or in shock could be very strange at times. She must be displaying one of those symptoms.
The car ride was silent. No one spoke, and he didn't attempt to initiate a conversation with her. It was better to leave her alone right now, and besides, the quiet hum of the engine seemed to make her doze off into sleep. She still held the towel around her shoulders. He thought it was quite adorable.
Almost defiantly, he stepped on the gas pedal, and the number in the odometer climbed higher and higher. That earned a glance from Jazmine; he tried to suppress the satisfied smile that climbed onto his lips.
However, a sharp blaring sound penetrated the air. He didn't even have to guess this time. Cops. This was the second time that he had been caught on this street. Definitely taking another route next time, he noted mentally.
"Good afternoon," he said, seeing it was a rather muscular female officer at his window, he added, "Ma'am."
"Your license and registration," she demanded firmly.
That sounded harsh. Wonder if she's having a bad day. He didn't dare disobey her orders, obediently handing her his license. Then, fumbling in the glove compartment, just like before, he searched. Unknowingly, some objects had dropped out by accident.
Normally, he could get away without a ticket, through either lies or pretensions. However, he wasn't so lucky today. The ticket held between his index and middle fingers was burning into his eyes. Just when he was about to stuff it into the glove compartment and mutter a few expletives of disapproval, he stopped at the sight of Jazmine holding that photo-frame in her hands.
Why hadn't he remembered to take it out? Oh yea he had a huge crush on his childhood friend
"You still have this photo?" Jazmine just nodded hoping she would just put away.
"Why?" Jazmine asked quietly.
"Because I still care."
Fall crept into this world with everyone off guard. The cold gusts of wind replaced the warm cool air from summer. Leaves, of course, met their climax in life and began their process of demise. It only meant one thing: winter would come soon.
Huey quietly slipped into the school library, knowing that the librarians were extremely harsh in terms of keeping the entire building in complete silence. Even if one breathed too heavily, he would probably be scolded at as well. Huey hadn't been here for a long, and he never understood the point of libraries. One could always do homework or study at home, but people always came here, doing their own separate work.
Unconsciously adjusting his jacket, he sat down in one of the chairs in the lobby. He felt rather idiotic, coming here, because his goal was to see her again. They hadn't seen each other for a week, and he was feeling uneasy. Why? He didn't know exactly, but for now, he would convince himself that it was to check up on her after the incident.
There she came, rushing through the library doors, and cradling a large textbook in her arms. He forced himself not to react too obviously to her presence because he felt the strong urge of sprinting toward her at full speed. She looked less messy, of course, than last time, and perhaps more cheerful. Suddenly, she turned her head, and her eyes landed on him.
He flinched, and then cursed himself for it. He really lacked self-control these days.
"Huey," Jazmine whispered as she seated herself in a seat next to his.
"Jazmine," he said with a tone that was flirtatious almost.
"I never thanked you for last week," she began her speech, "You did a lot, and I appreciate it."
"No problem! That's what friends are for, right?" he said, continuing the flirtatious talk, even ending the sentence with a wink. It was better this way, he thought, this would stop him from getting sentimental or things of that sort.
She seemed to disapprove of his response, or rather, the way in which he responded. He smiled, wanting to seem apologetic, but it came out as a smirk.
"Well," she stood up, "I think I have to go."
"No, you don't," he said it so quickly and firmly, as he clasped his hand around her wrist.
He could swear that he heard her whimper. Once again, he wanted to say sorry, but couldn't.
"I mean," he pulled her down by the wrist and forced her to sit, "are you sure you are ok?"
"Yes, I am sure." Annoyance, if not anger, flashed in her eyes.
It wasn't enough. He wanted to keep her longer. Just a few more minutes.
"So," he started again, "What have you done with Webster?"
She looked all business-like, and said, "He is now suspended from school, so he can't touch me for the next few months. I've placed a restraining order on him, as well, so that he can't stalk me."
"Oh." He looked serious all of a sudden.
"Ok, can I go now?" she asked with some sincerity in her voice.
He almost whined like a child, "Why do you have to go?"
She then gave him a rather long explanation of how she must prepare for the Calculus test, and the probability that she might fail.
He chuckled, "Why don't you stay here and study?"
"Well, why should I?" she took the offensive.
"Because I love you, and I need you, and I need to have you by my side for the rest of my life?"
To his surprise, she put her book on the table in front of her, and said, "How clichéd." Then she smiled.
He put his elbow on the table, his hand supporting his chin, as he gazed at her lazily.
"What?" she said, glancing at him.
"Nothing," he pulled back, and stretched out against the back of his chair.
Turning a page of her math book, she grinned. "You are quite a character, you know?"
"How am I quite a character'?" He raised a brow.
"You pretend that you have a crush on me whenever you speak, but you still feel empty inside because you don't have someone to give your whole heart to."
Hearing this, he chuckled. "Well," he said, "you pretend that you are my psychologist. Besides, maybe I DO have a crush on you." Then he slowly leaned forward, moving his face closer to hers. "So, how do you know for sure?"
"Trust me, I know," she spoke with confidence. "I think people like you should really find someone to love. That should stop your flirtatious behaviors."
"What about you, then? Do you ever pretend?" he questioned, his breaths brushing the skin of her neck.
She appeared unaffected by his actions. "I used to pretend."
"Really," he whispered at her ear, "how?"
"I used to have a crush on you."
"Used to?" he said gently.
"Yes. Used to, and I tried to hide it," she turned her face to his, "Now I don't have to hide it because the crush is gone."
"How do you know for sure?" he looked into her eyes, "Maybe deep down, you still can't forget me."
"Perhaps, but I think I'm mature enough to deal with my feelings like a civilized adult."
He didn't respond to her comment with words. Instead, he drew his hand and gently caressed her cheek. Surprisingly, she took her hand and gingerly pulled his hand down.
"You've changed," he said without any obvious displays of affection.
With a pause, she finally said, "I've matured."
A/N- Sorry for the long wait
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