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“Do you think I sit around twiddling my thumbs when you guys are out?” He messes with the radio before settling on a classic rock station. A Led Zeppelin song plays over the speakers.
“I don’t know what you do when we’re out …”
“Trust me, I’m not sitting at home alone feeling sorry for myself.”
I raise my palms, apologizing. This conversation took a wrong turn and now it’s completely off the tracks.
“So what are they like?” I ask.
“Huh?”
“The girls you’ve dated. What are they like? What’s your type?” Before he has a chance to take my question the wrong way, I add, “Maybe I have a friend or something you might hit it off with?”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Are you … do you … are you into … men?” I ask, hoping I don’t come off as insensitive.
“Definitely not,” he answers without hesitation. “Not that there’s anything wrong with dating men, but I very much prefer women.”
That settles that.
Jude climbs behind the wheel once he’s done fueling, putting an untimely end to my Spanish Inquisition.
I settle into the backseat behind Stone, where I always sit. Despite being Jude’s girlfriend, I’ve always let Stone ride up front. I figured I pilfer enough of Jude’s time as it is, the least I can do is not steal Stone’s spot.
One of the first things Jude ever told me about Stone was that they were like brothers, and that they made a pact when they were kids that they’d never let a girl come between them. I respect that, and I’d never want to come between them anyway.
Their bond is special, and I love that they have each other’s backs come what may.
We should all be so lucky.
Chapter Sixteen
Stone
* * *
Age 11
* * *
“Mr. Hudson, as you know, this kind of behavior is strictly prohibited at Callahan Elementary,” Principal Higgins folds her hands over her desk as she talks to Jude’s dad.
Paul’s leg bounces as he sits across from Principal Higgins, and as he chomps his cinnamon gum, his jaw flexes with each chew.
“This isn’t the first time we’ve met regarding Jude’s behavior, nor is it the second,” she continues, “and should your son decide to put his hands on another student again, we’ll have no choice but to expel him.”
“And what about the other kid?” Paul breaks his silence.
Jude and I exchange looks from separate corners of the room.
Principal Higgins blinks slowly. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the disciplinary actions of other students.”
“From what I understand, the other kid’s been messing with Stone for the past couple of months,” he says. “We’re talking constant, incessant provocation. Now, Stone’s done a stand-up job ignoring it because he’s a good kid with a straight head on his shoulders, but seeing how the school has done the bare minimum in thwarting the antagonistic actions of this other student, Jude took it upon himself to take matters into his own hands.”
The principal’s gaze flicks from Jude, to me, then back to Paul.
“Jude and Stone are a package deal, all right?” Paul says. “They’re brothers. They look out for each other. What hurts one, hurts the other. You mess with one, you’re messing with both of ‘em.”
“I can appreciate their bond, Mr. Hudson, but as the administrator of this school, the physical safety of my students is paramount,” she says.
“Which is why your staff should have handled this day one, not let it drag out for months until it escalated into the very thing we were all trying to avoid.” Paul rises, turning back to us. “Boys, grab your bags, this meeting’s over.”
Principal Higgins sits frozen, her mouth half open, and we follow Paul to his parked Impala out front.
The ride home is quiet; not even the low drone of the talk radio station Paul usually listens to any time we’re in the car.
He doesn’t say a word until we get to the house.
That punk Bryan Quick may have started this whole thing a couple months ago, but today during lunch, Jude decided he was going to finish it. What began with Bryan’s usual taunting and name-calling ended with Jude’s surprise left hook straight to his nose. But Jude didn’t stop there. Once Bryan was knocked to the ground, he pounced on him, laying into him until they were pulled apart by a janitor and two lunch ladies.
Bryan was bawling like a baby and blood was dripping from his nose onto his brand-new Nike dry fit shirt. The whole cafeteria was laughing and cheering. Jude’s attack wasn’t only for me—it was for every other kid Bryan Quick had messed with this year.
I thought for sure we were going to be in huge trouble when our teacher said Paul was coming in to talk to the principal. The number of times I’ve seen Jude’s dad upset, I can count on one hand—and it’s never pretty. It usually involves spit flying from his lips and his face turning the color of beets. I’ve even seen him punch his fist through a door once (though that was because he caught his girlfriend cheating on him after he shelled out two grand to fix her car).
