Chapter 26 Jericho
JERICHO
Tiny Dancer by Elton John plays through the speakers, blanketing us in the crooning tune as I drive around. Raiden is silent beside me, content to be with me and not have to do anything else. The windows are cracked, letting in a light breeze and his hair moves with the wind.
It’s supposed to storm tonight, the forecast showed this morning warnings of torrential downpours. We need to get back to my parents before the rain moves in. It would be hard to explain why we both showed up at the same time, both sopping wet with kiss swollen lips and mussed hair.
“Do you remember that time our parents trusted us to go grocery shopping for them?” Raiden asks me when I exit off the highway, turning down a side road that’ll take us to the opposite side of town.
People’s houses are decorated and there’s plenty of people walking around to get treats for their kids before they turn in for the night.
“Somewhat, I remember your mom being pissed because you bought fifty dollars of the sakura scented things but you didn’t remember to grab the deli meat.
” It’s a hilarious memory to think about now, because our parents gave us both a strict budget and a list of things we had to buy.
If we thought there was going to be money leftover, they said we could get something for ourselves.
It was a quest as my dad called it to see how we would fair in adulthood.
That’s not how it worked out for Raiden.
He got about half the things on the list for Ema and Rodney, and then I made the mistake of directing us to the body care section to pick up body wash for my mom.
Raiden abandoned his cart in the middle of the aisle and left me to push both of those while he thumbed through the display.
It was sakura scented everything. Body wash, shampoo, conditioned, perfume, lotion.
Anything that could be used on a body, they had it on display.
Raiden was so excited, and I stood by his side while he filled up his cart with it. "They never have sakura! It’s always Japanese cherry blossom,” and he said the second half of that sentence with enough malice to have Hades himself quaking in his boots.
Ema and Rodney did not show the same excitement. But Raiden, with all his charisma and cuteness, swindled his parents into their forgiveness quickly.
“In my defense, my mom always bought my sakura products online so I thought I was saving her on shipping.”
“She also wanted to send us back to the store because she was so annoyed with you, but then she realized that given the chance you would probably do the same thing,” I retort as I slow down to a creep by the Carpenter’s house so Raiden can see the lights fully lit up.
“And she knew that you wouldn’t stop me.”
“No, I definitely wouldn’t.” Not when you looked so happy. But I can’t say that thought aloud.
“Good times, good times. But really, I was going to ask if you remembered buying me flowers while we were there.” His voice is smaller now, more vulnerable. His eyes are focused on the lights but I can see him nibbling on his bottom lip.
“Flowers? I don’t really remember…” Because when did I buy him flowers? I don’t remember doing it that outing, because I was worried about him going over the amount his parents had given him so I didn’t want to risk him having to put anything back, especially not his beloved sakura products.
He doesn't say anything, and I just awkwardly stare at him until my attention has to be averted back to the road or I’ll end up hitting a family trying to trick or treat.
“It doesn't matter,” he finally says as I make a turn to go back towards my parents house. The ticking of the bomb of our time together slowly counts down until it explodes. A rumble of thunder starts and I push my foot harder against the pedal. I don’t want to end our time together so soon, but I also don’t want to be caught in the storm.
“It does.”
“Forget it, Jer. I promise, it’s nothing.” He traces his finger across his thighs, the tight yellow spandex molding to his skin and it's hard to take my eyes off him.
“It is something, so please tell me. Whatever it is,” I hedge because I’m not sure if this is a good memory or a bad one. There’s a lot of memories between us, ranging from the happiest of times to the saddest. If it's a bad one, I could probably do without hearing it.
“You went back and bought me flowers, after we had checked out,” he finally says. Lightning cracks across the sky, lighting up his face in the bright light and the melancholy on his face makes my chest hurt.
Flowers. Flowers. Flowers. I think hard back to that day, trying to remember exactly what happened. It was so long ago, but I would like to think my memory isn’t that bad yet.
“We had already put the bags in the back of my mom’s car, and you were holding the change from your groceries in your hand.
I had the receipt for both of our carts in my hand.
I didn’t have any change left over, but as we were walking out you saw me stare at the premade bouquets by the produce section. ”
I’m hit by a scene so vivid I would think it’s happening right now if I didn’t know any better.
Raiden, staring longingly at the bouquets of mixed daisies. They were always his favorite, but he had already spent all the money his parents had given him. He wouldn’t have asked me. He wanted to be seen. He wanted to be loved without asking.
I went back in to buy them because I knew he wanted them.
He held them in his lap the whole ride back, even when I was worried he was going to squish the life out of them.
And after Ema and Rodney went to the store to get the rest of the missed groceries, I took an old vase my mom had in the hall closet next door to him.
He didn’t like the exact way the person who made the bouquet did it, because it didn’t truly show how beautiful they were.
I remember him looking even more beautiful than the flowers, nibbling on his bottom lip while he worked to place them the way he wanted.
When he was finished, he was so proud of himself, and he kept them displayed on his desk right beside the computer we played The SIMS on, so I kept seeing them every time I went over there.
Then the flowers died, and I always told myself I was going to buy him more to keep on his desk.
So he could have a reminder of me whenever he looked at it, but life got away the more we got busy and then I’m not sure when I stopped remembering.
But one day the thought was there, and then the next it disappeared.
Poof, gone like so many other small memories.
I don’t want to let him know the downhill turn my thoughts have taken me, so I settle for a simple word, “Daisies.”
Raiden nods, and the corner of his lips tip up. They’re back to their natural color, most of the lip tint has faded. Or maybe it’s transferred to my lips. Either way.
The rain starts a vicious downpour, my windshield wipers working overtime to combat the attack.
Raiden is leaning forward in his seat to help me see.
At least we won’t have to worry about stragglers walking the roads now trying to get last minute candy before homes start to turn off their front porch light.
We pull up in front of my parents’ house, and their driveway is packed to the brim with cars, the same with the curb space. Ema and Rodney have a space left open at their house, so I whip my truck onto their concrete driveway and park the truck.
I sit there, waiting for the rain to let up.
Raiden reaches his hand across the console and rubs my upper leg.
His bony fingers massage into the tissue, and I let out a loud groan.
I want to be embarrassed, but I love massages.
I haven’t had one in forever, and I’m way overdue.
Liam hated rubbing my legs because he never knew how to react to my missing one, and in the end it became too big of an insecurity of mine to let him see it like that.
“Are you that pent up?” Raiden smirks at me, but keeps kneading the area.
“Yes, god yes,” I mumble and shift to get my leg closer to him. The combination of what he’s doing and the knowledge that it’s Raiden doing it to me is a deadly concoction for my resolve.
“When we go home later, I’ll give you a full rub down. I’ll just have to run home to get my lotion, it’ll be the best massage you’ve ever experienced.” His smirk tells me he’s planning on more than a basic massage and I’m too weak of a man when it comes to him to pass up on it.
“Deal, but who knows how long we’ll be here.
You’ll have to sneak out when I leave, I don’t want to miss a moment with you.
” Which is shitty, because I’m asking him–in a roundabout way–to lie to his parents about why he won’t be home tonight.
And maybe he’ll use the same excuse the last time he stayed the night at my house.
That he just needed some me time and Ema nor Rodney asked any questions.
“Deal.” His smile is sweet, and I need to taste it for myself before I go in there and brave the mass of people that have congregated at my parents’ house for this party.
Our lips meet, tongues tangling and his breath becoming my own as our mouths are pressed together. We kiss until it’ll become too noticeable if we both walk in there looking positively wrecked.
“We need to go in.” I pull back from his tempting mouth and kiss his forehead, before unbuckling my own seatbelt.
The rain outside has slowed some, so now will be our best chance.
“Wait on me, I’ll get the door for you.” I don’t know if he says anything after that, because I’m darting out of the truck and around to his side and wrenching open the door.
My personal prince.
“Come on, tiny dancer.” I extend my hand to his and his grip on mine is tight as he gets out of the truck. We race across the grass together, the ground squishing under every one of our steps. It’s not far, but Raiden lags behind me, his heels getting caught in the grass.
“Get on, I don’t want your shoes to get ruined.
” I squat down, and he makes it over to me.
We’re halfway to my parents’ front door, and as I run with him on my back,the rain starts to pick up.
I narrowly dodge the halloween decorations my mom had me putting up earlier today.
Raiden’s ass hits my back with every step I make, his body jerking against mine with my movements.
Thankfully, we made it to the front door with minimal damage.
My clothes are soaked and Raiden stumbles as he tries to get off my back.
When I turn around he’s standing there, under the faint glow of the porch light.
His brown hair, glistening with water droplets and sticking to his forehead, the gemmed hair clip he was wearing is gone and I make a mental note to buy him another one.
I need to see him all dressed up like this again, for my own personal fantasies.
“Ready?” I ask him, about to push the door open. His smile is hesitant and I freeze for a minute. “Do you not want to come in?” I want him here with me, I want him wherever I am.
“No! I do!” He rushes to get out, but the same hesitancy is on his face as he shakes his head. “It’s stupid, I’ll be fine.”
I hate that, when something is obviously upsetting him but he constantly brushes it off.
Like he thinks that what he’s isn’t important or it doesn't matter. How can I get it through to him that it does matter. Whatever he feels, thinks, does, matters to me. I’ll circle hell and back if that’s what it takes to make him feel okay.
“You’re not fine. Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”
“I just worry that your friends aren’t going to like me,” he finally admits, looking so much like the younger version of himself I’m nearly thrown into a flashback from freshman year, where we held hands because he was nervous to walk in our first day.
I did whatever I could then, the same as I’m going to do now.
“I’m never going to let anything hurt you, not again.
Okay?” I reach out and trace my fingers down his face, collecting the water under my fingertips and brushing it away.
“They’ll love you, tiny dancer.” I bite my lip, from finishing the rest of the sentence that is begging to be let free, but I can’t. Not yet.
“Okay, whatever you say.” He doesn’t look like he believes me, but he still offers me a semblance of a smile. “Lets go have fun at this party and watch our parents get wasted.”
“As long as they don’t start singing karaoke, I think we’ll be fine.”