The kind of rage that makes you want to laugh and scream and throw something all at the same time.
And then almost immediately, fear crashes in right behind the rage, because the corners of his mouth slowly tilt upward.
Not warm.
Not kind.
Cruel.
Like he's been waiting years for this exact moment.
Like he's imagined it.
Practiced it.
His gaze locks on mine.
And then he mouths a single word.
"Boo."
My stomach drops straight to hell.
Don’t show fear. Don’t move. Look annoyed, bored even. I’m not her anymore. My hair’s different, maybe he won’t recognizeme? There is no reason for him to have any feeling towards me other than hatred. If he’s not a figment of my imagination that is.
Slowly, I feel him lean down and then less subtle fragrances reach my nose: Aqua De Gio cologne, always the same. And the smell of peppermint gum. “Hey there…De-Lilah.” He says my name like a curse now, when back in the day he’d sing it like a love song. “Still a lover of the arts it seems?”
I say nothing. If I move I’ll pass out, if I show fear he’ll pounce. What the hell is going on? How is he alive? How is he here? Coincidence? I don’t even go by my full name anymore. I’m far away from our childhood homes, our town. I’m older, I’m different. How is this my life right now?
He moves away and keeps walking. I exhale as a bead of sweat runs down the back of my neck. He stops in front of Evan’s desk mid-lecture.
Not beside it like a normal student would, not casually leaning even like an arrogant prick.
No—he’s claiming as much space as humanly possible, forcing everyone to notice his presence. I don’t look up all the way, I stare at his ass, then his muscled back. He’s thicker than before. That can’t be good. You can feel a guy like Jude Hale before you see him. And now it’s like his presence has swallowed up the entire room.
Evans clears his throat in annoyance. I can’t tell if it’s because he’s being interrupted or if it’s because he’s no longer the hottest guy in the room. Evan’s is the all-American hot nerd, Jude is the guy that does you against a wall and makes you scream his name until your voice is hoarse then forces you to grab a hold of whatever you can, hair, jacket, arm—while he sends you into oblivion. The adult version of him is absolutely mouthwatering and terrifying all at once.
Not that I would know even what the young version was like, we only had that one moment before everything went to hell,we were never like that until that moment. Maybe that was the universes way of punishing us. Maybe it really was all my fault for wanting a kiss that desperately, for wanting my best friend with every fiber in my being. For lusting.
We started as friends and swore to never cross that line until that day. I always liked him, he always flirted with me but that was it, he said to cross that line meant taking away the one thing we had—that was more precious than anything, had I known it would go down the way it did, I would have leaped across that line when he still tolerated me, just to see what all the fuss was about.
Now? Now I need to stay far away. I can’t transfer this late and since I’m only two classes away from graduation, all I need to do is find a way to figure out what’s going on and avoid him, again, maybe it’s a fluke, maybe one of his dad’s many companies donates to the school, that would make more sense. While he and Evans talk, I quickly look at my phone and look up the school’s donors. It doesn’t take long to see that the number one donor is Edmond Hale. His father. And it’s in the millions a year. It’s not even his Alma Mater. Weird. I type in Jude’s name and nearly fall out of my chair. Suddenly, the Google search actually shows him, pictures of him at Harvard. Harvard? It shows social media; it shows a life I never even knew he had. A few pictures of him with girls who look like supermodels pop up, and I instantly regret my choice to look. The last time I searched his name was right after the incident and all it had was information on the funeral. Why would I go online and look up a dead guy? I didn’t have a reason to, so I never did after that.
Maybe I should have known that there were ways for families like the Hales to stay alive forever. But why fake a death? That doesn’t make any sense. We left so soon after the trial and I barely remember my time at the police station, my time gripping that pen while beads of sweat ran down my face. I was desperateto save him, desperate to save my family, desperate to leave and never come back. Honestly, the thought always haunted me, that I was getting punished for my part in the testimony, that the reason was because I lied. Leaving was the only option then, the only way out unscathed.
There’s no way that out of all the people in this world, he would hunt me down. But just as I say it I realize that’s not true, because I testified against him, I lied. I lied to protect my family and I made him take the rap for something he didn’t do because his father convinced me that they had enough money to fight it and that very day I never got a chance to talk to him to tell him I was sorry that my dad couldn’t go to prison for something he didn’t do, that our family had no money to fight what theirs did, that taking the fall meant that I wouldn’t have parents anymore. The betrayal in his eyes nearly killed me, I was about to go back and tell the truth when the text came in. “There’s been an accident.” That’s it. Dad came home that same day looking terrified. With tears in his eyes he said that Jude was gone and that we needed to protect our family, he finally got the job at the University and we were moving as soon as possible. Funny, what I tried to so hard to protect came crumbling to the ground the minute my dad got his dream job. It’s like the minute he tasted success he was greedy for more and willing to do anything, sacrifice anything to get it, mom and I included. There I was, allowing myself to be used, and he didn’t as much as blink when I cried the entire time to Portland. He just said we were getting everything we wanted. The worst part? He thanked me.
I was told I wasn’t allowed at the funeral but I finally talked my parents into at least parking down the street so I could watch it from far away. I saw the casket. I sobbed, I puked behind the tree, and I whispered.Sorry. It wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.
Because in the end, instead of telling my best friend to his face that I betrayed him.
I said it to his casket from behind a tree as they lowered it into the ground.
Only… apparently he was notinsaid casket.
His hatred for me, his actual hatred, must run so deep that he’s sick with it. If it were me, I would hate me for the lies, so where the hell has he been all this time, then?
“Mr. Hale,” Evans says, voice tight. I know that voice: he’s pissed. “This is… unexpected and as you can see, I’m in the middle of class, a class you aren’t currently enrolled in considering your status at this University. That is, unless you’d like to add another degree to your impressive Harvard resume.”
