“I didn’t think he…never mind,” he said with a shrug as he dropped his locker bag and stood there for a moment. “Twenty minutes?”
“Twenty minutes,” I reminded him. “And please tell me you wore those hiking boots we bought you at least a few times. You really don’t want to break them in out on the trail.”
“I did,” he assured me, and walked closer with an unreadable expression on his face. “I…before you go, I wanted to say thanks.”
“For what?” I asked. I really hoped this wasn’t about the springs because, as much as I’m sure he enjoyed it, it would feel weird to be thanked for that of all things.
“You know, trying to be there to help me, and keeping your distance too,” he said, coming to a stop before me. “I know my parents probably asked you to monitor me.”
“Well…it’s hard to get much past you,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not going to apologize…but I will say they did ask, but I wanted to do it too. At least this way, they can both say there was someone keeping an eye on you for their own nerves, but it meant you didn’t have one of your parents breathing down your neck. I guess a weird uncle was better than a parent.”
“I mean…I guess you could call yourself a weird uncle,” Jude said with a half-smile. “I never saw you that way, though, not really.”
That stung, probably more than it was supposed to, but I cocked my head. “Alright, what would you call me then?”
He stared at me for a moment, and then another moment, and then an even longer moment. It wasn’t until he…twitched that I realized he hadn’t been staring at me exactly, but at my mouth. The realization came too late, and as I realized that, like his father, he was taller than me; he was pressing his lips against mine.
Once, in my freshman year of college, I had woken up late for class with one hell of a hangover that left me not only aching deep in my skull, but disoriented and confused as I hurried across campus to make my first class of the day. I wasn’t paying attention, and I had walked out onto the street. A car’s tires screeched, and my head jerked up to see a car coming toward me. If they hadn’t yanked their wheel to swerve around me with the most colorful string of curses rolling out of their open window, my shock-induced freeze would have got me killed.
That same rigidity came over me as I realized Jude was kissing me, that his lips were soft, warm, and insistent as they pressed against mine. That his hand rested on my shoulder and he was leaning closer, as if that might somehow bring me to life for the sake of the kiss.
I didn’t, though. There was no way for me to move, even as my brain desperately screamed and railed for me to dosomething;all I could do was stand there, one arm holding my bag over my shoulder, and the other slack at my side. My heart thundered and my breathing had all but stopped, and I just…stood there.
And then Jude backed away, his face aflame as he took another hesitant step back. He sucked in his lower lip and stared at the floor before glancing back up at me. I knew he was waiting for me to say something, to do something that might…what? Make it better? Or God, was he waiting for me to get over my shock and fling myself at him?
Jesus, I’d been sleeping with his father regularly for the past week, holy shit.
This was Jude!
“Okay,” I heard myself say, and thankfully, that was enough to break the spell that had come over me and I stared at him as my brain and mouth slowly clicked back together. “So…that happened.”
“And…you hated it,” Jude said, regret and shame thick in his voice.
Well, it certainly wouldn’t make my top ten favorite things that had happened in the past year, five years, ten years…really, it wasn’t going to make any list of things I enjoyed. Except I could see panic settling into the space next to his shame and guilt. That was never a good combination, and I needed to think how to handle the situation as effectively as possible, and fast.
“It…wasn’t ideal,” I told him because no matter how I tried to handle it, I needed him to understand it wasn’t something I’d wanted.
“Fuck,” he breathed, wiping his face. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t?—”
“Jude,” I said softly, and I wanted to reach out, but I wasn’t sure touching him was the best choice given the circumstances. “I’m not here to shame you for what you did. Though as a helpfulpiece of advice, it’s usually best not to kiss someone unless they at least suspect it’s going to happen and consent. On the other hand, there’s always a place for spontaneity.”
“Yeah, but you?—”
“Aren’t reciprocating,” I finished for him as gently as I could. “Where did that even come from?”
He squirmed, his hands wringing. “I…this was supposed to play out so differently.”
I made sure not to laugh, but it was a close thing. “Life has a tendency to do that, trust me on that.”
“I just,” he dropped his hands, almost flung them down. “I’ve had this major crush on you since I was like twelve.”
Okay, so that was also happening, twelve? I mean, that was a perfectly reasonable age to have a crush, and hell, I’d had a crush of my own on my seventh-grade science teacher. Then again, it wasn’t really my fault that he was stupidly handsome as far as my twelve-year-old eyes had been concerned, and it had been really weird to notice just how big his butt was in his khakis.
That was me at that age, and not me on the receiving end of a long-term crush. It was a whole different experience to look at Jude and remember what he’d looked like at twelve, and to imagine he’d had a crush on me. It was worse than the first time I realized that despite everything, my parents had been having sex even after they’d had me, even after my father was the bastard who liked to make his wife cry to feel big.
“Right,” I said slowly. “And what exactly made you…why did you think kissing me was the way to go?”
“I don’t know,” he said, hanging his head. “We’ve been spending all this time together. And I don’t knowhowyou just keep getting better looking with age, but you get hotter every year, I swear.”
