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I shook my head. “Graham killed himself. He crashed his car, because he couldn’t deal with what you’d done.” I was becoming more heated by the second and I might just throw my food at him. My mom always told me that as a child I was the queen of temper tantrums. Apparently I never outgrew that.
“What the fuck did I do?” He spread his arms wide. “I’m so confused! I didn’t even know your brother.”
“You knew his girlfriend,” I spat, my cheeks growing red with anger.
“Ohhhh,” he drew the word out and his eyes lit with recognition. “That’s what this is about.” Smirking like he always did, he said, “Tater Tot’s jealous. This is cute.”
I blanched, unable to reply. “That’s not what this is about at all. God, you’re so fucking conceited it’s sickening.” Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Still think you can father a child after that kick I gave you?”
Jude was unfazed by my words. “Want to find out?”
“Ugh,” I stood, gathering my bag and leaving my food on the table. “I don’t have to deal with this,” I muttered, and did what I did best, which was to walk away.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted, running after me and cornering me in an alcove.
I rolled my eyes, looking down at the ground and away from his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he continued. “It was joke, I swear. You shouldn’t take most of the things that come out of my mouth seriously.”
I sighed, still not looking at him. I was never in the mood to deal with Jude.
His hands came up to rest against the wall beside my head. If he thought I was oblivious to the movement, he was wrong. It put his body closer to mine and I had nowhere to escape. Well played, Brooks. Well fucking played.
“You can think whatever you want of me, Tatum, but the fact of the matter is what I did had nothing to do with what happened to your brother. You’re acting like a child, trying to find someone to blame. I won’t be your scapegoat,” he lowered his voice and leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. I shivered from the contact. “Stop fighting what you feel for me.”
“I’m not fighting anything,” I panted.
He pulled away slightly, tilting his head so that strands of his hair tickled my forehead. “That’s all you do, Tate. You fight everything.” He straightened and lowered his arms to his side. “Now, this is the last time I’m going to extend my help with your paper. Think of it as a three strikes and you’re out kinda deal,” he winked. There was nothing playful in his gaze though. He was dead serious. If I told him to leave me alone, he would, and then I’d be screwed. I didn’t have the time to think up a whole new paper and go that route, so I was stuck.
“I accept your help,” I mumbled, barely audible. I stared down at the scuffed ends of my Nike sneakers.
“What was that?” He turned an ear towards me. “I didn’t quite hear you. Speak up.”
“I accept your help.” I said it louder this time, squaring my shoulders and holding my head high.
“Good,” he smiled, rocking back on his heels. He started to walk away, but turned back around to where I still stood against the wall. “Oh, and Tate?”
I nodded for him to continue.
“Try smiling sometime.”
“Huh?
” That was not what I had expected to come out of his mouth.
“You’re always beautiful, but you light up when you smile. I’d like to see you do it more often.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t piss me off then,” I countered, unable to hold back the words.
He chuckled, scratching his jaw. His smile was crooked when he said, “See you later, Tater Tot.”
???
When I climbed into bed that night I felt so confused.
For the last seven years I’d blamed Jude for Graham’s death. I’d built this hatred up inside me. Now, between what he and Rowan said I felt lost, like maybe it really wasn’t his fault.
But if I didn’t hate Jude, what was I supposed to do with all this anger inside of me?
