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Tali
My eyes shot open,panic weighing heavy on my chest. Where the hell was I? And whose arms had I been sleeping in? I scrambled away from the decidedly male form, pulling my knees to my chest.
“Go to sleep, Stripes,” he mumbled.
I nudged Jude with my toes. “What time is it?”
One of his eyes cracked open. “Sleep time. Get back here.” He tugged at my foot, but the sense of panic hadn’t abated.
And then it hit me. “Shit.” I dug the heel of my hand into my forehead. “Shit, shit, shit!”
Jude sat up, concern etched on his beautiful face. “What’s going on, Tali?”
I sprung up from the floor, heading for the door. “I need to get home. It’s Sunday, and…shit!”
He was right behind me, swallowing my hand with his. “Stop. Tell me what’s got you panicked.”
“My parents...they call me every Sunday after church. I need to get back to my dorm, like five minutes ago.”
Oh god, this wasn’t good. I didnotwant to have to explain to my dad why I wasn’t snug in my dorm at ten on a Sunday morning.
“Come on. I’ll take you.”
Still holding my hand, Jude pulled me out the door, leaving Laura and Nina fast asleep on the couch. We ran down the sidewalk, Jude shoeless, me in my slippers. It was so ridiculous, I started laughing. He grinned over at me, still half-asleep, but in this with me all the way.
Jude drove a beater, which was parked up the street from Tino’s place. He pushed me into the passenger side and peeled out of his parking spot, driving way too fast for the sleepy residential street.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said as we sped through campus.
“No big deal. I had nothing better to do besides sleep.”
Luck was on my side. Jude found a spot right in front of my dorm, and I was out of the car before he killed the engine, sprinting up the stone steps. I smashed the button to the elevator, and Jude chuckled next to me.
“That’s not going to make it go faster.”
I didn’t question why he came inside. No time for that. Instead, I ran for the steps and flew up five flights like I was wearing a jetpack.
It might seem crazy to the casual observer, but there was nothing—nothing—worse than being the only daughter to a doting, old-fashioned-as-fuck Italian father and disappointing him.
I hadn’t even done anything wrong—besides the drugs, booze, and falling asleep with a taken man—but the guilt was already eating at me.
Through my thin door, I heard the sound of my doom: my ringing phone. My hands were too shaky to unlock the door, so Jude took my keys and did it for me. I dove through the air for the phone, picking it up just after the final ring and only hearing a dial tone.
My eyes met Jude’s, his as wide and panicked as mine. My phone rang again, and I snatched it up before it could stop.
“Hello!” I yelled.
“Natalia Marie, where were you?” my dad boomed. Not in a mean way. He always boomed. “Your mother and I were about to call the police.”
I sank into my desk chair. He was kidding...sort of. Authorities would only be brought in after the third or fourth missed call.
“Um…” I had to think fast, “my stomach was upset.”
“You were in the shitter?” he asked. From the snorting behind me, Jude had heard him loud and clear. And I died once again.
“Yeah, Dad. Too many mozzarella sticks.” I was never going to recover from the depths of my humiliation.
I could hear my mom tsking in the background. “Tell her I’ll send her some applesauce. That’ll stop her right up.”
