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I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Nope, not yet. Let’s hang out.”
He grabbed his bag, but left mine in the car, and I followed him into the one-story, brick house. Four sets of eyes were on us as soon as we stepped through the door. Seven, Jeremy, Jin, and Ben were scattered around the cramped living room. Our appearance was apparently far more interesting than whatever they’d been doing before we arrived.
Jude nodded. “Hey. Tali’s gonna hang out for a while.”
The boys waved, and I waved back. Ben got up and hugged me.
“Tino drives like a bat out of hell, so I’ve been home for a couple hours. Wasn’t sure if you guys would make it back today,” he said.
“Do you know me at all? Do I seem like I’d miss the first day of class?” I asked.
Ben chuckled. “I suppose not. I was all prepared to be alone at Gamelan ensemble.”
Jude’s hand slid around my waist. “I have to hear you play this instrument.”
I nudged his ribs. “End of year concert. Be there or be square. No heckling, though.”
He squeezed my hip. “I’d never miss it.”
“What the fuck’s Gamelan?” Jeremy asked.
As Ben turned to explain the Balinese instruments we’d be learning to play, Jude steered me down a narrow hallway into a closet-sized bedroom, most of which was taken up by a double bed. It was tidy, but barren. Bed made, floor clean, walls bare.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked, spinning in a tight circle.
He shoved his bag into the small closet, then turned back to me, hands on his hips. “Two years. I’m pretty sure the owner divided a couple bedrooms in two to make it better for renting, but it’s like living in a broom closet. I don’t spend much time in here.”
“We don’t have to stay in here if you don’t want to.” But I wanted to. I liked his friends, but right now, I only wanted Jude.
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Nope. I’ve got no interest in leaving these four walls, not when I’ve got you within them.” He kicked his shoes off, then placed them neatly on the floor of his closet. “Stay, Stripes. I still owe you a present.”
I took my shoes off and placed them near the door, then climbed up on his bed, sitting with my back against the wall. “I thought you forgot. I didn’t want to make it weird by bringing it up.”
His smile widened. “Didn’t forget. But I…uh—” He went to the corner where a guitar was propped and picked it up. “I wrote you a song.”
“Jude,” I whispered. “A song?”
He sat on the edge of his bed, knee bent, guitar laid across his lap. “It’s short, and probably complete shit. I wanted to get you a gift that meant something, and the lyrics kind of came to me when I was thinking about you.”
I wasthis closeto becoming a silly, starry-eyed girl. Thinking about me had inspired a song? I didn’t even care if it was shit—he wrote me a damn song. But this was Jude. He made beautiful music. My song would be anything but shit.
“I’m ready,” I said.
He strummed his guitar and closed his eyes.
I held my breath, not wanting to miss a single note. And then he sang, and everything shifted. The earth, my heart, my future, everything. His velvet gravel met my soul and twined with it.
Lines on my chaos map
are looking more like stripes these days
She's every direction I turn to
Every path I could take goes her way
Never knew I had a compass
spinning wildly inside me like a top
