If you define winning by who's left standing, then Jude's pretty sure Connor won.
Not that it matters, Jude thinks as two uniformed men with walkie-talkies lead Blake and Connor to one of the festival's few unoccupied tents with Blake's parents, Connor's dad, and his moms following close behind.
Jude trails them all, awkwardly.
He's not in trouble, he can tell by the concerned looks Stef and Lena keep throwing his way. But Connor's dad looks furious, and it's sort of funny because part of him thinks this is the kind of thing Mr. Stevens would be proud of if, you know, it wasn't about Jude.
But it was about Jude, and that's a problem.
The men sit Blake on one side of the tent and Connor on the other. One - tall and tired-looking with no name tag - takes a long look at both boys, shakes his head and calls for EMS. The other - shorter, just as tired-looking and Dan according to his name tag - faces the parents head-on.
They argue back and forth about what happened and things like fault, and damages. Liability. Jude tries to pay attention, but his eyes keep drifting, looking through them, past them to where Blake sits on the other side of the tent sulking, his eye red and almost completely shut.
It'll be black by Monday, and everyone at school will know why.
Jude sneaks a look back at Connor, sitting alone on a gray folding chair. He's got a pretty bad scrape on his chin and though it's not bleeding anymore, Jude figures he'll probably have a scar.
And that's a problem too.
Blake's parents and Mr. Stevens get louder, more adamant about who is at fault. They don't ask him, or Connor or Blake for that matter, any questions, but their eyes, angry and accusatory, keep darting over to Jude. It makes him self-conscious, and uncomfortable, and he thinks Stef must notice because she quickly steps between the two sides in what Jude recognizes as her police-officer-taking-charge way.
She commands their attention and, for the first time since they got to the tent, no one's looking at him - not his moms, and not the other parents. Carefully, he starts edging his way toward Connor - slow, in case anyone sees and yells at him to stop.
No one does, and eight steps later he's standing in front of Connor, awkwardly.
"Hey."
Connor looks up at him then, unsure and a little cautious, and Jude is painfully aware that this is the first time he's spoken to Connor in days, weeks.
"Hey."
Jude shifts his weight, one foot to the other, and glances down to where Connor has his hand pressed against his stomach. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Connor says, trying to flex his hand, as if to prove it.
Close up it looks bad - swollen, the skin over his knuckles broken, dried blood staining Connor's plaid shirt - but Jude nods anyway.
"I, um," Jude starts, "I just want to say thanks, for what you did, but you didn't have to -" Jude stops. "You don't have to. I don't want you getting hurt because of me. Or getting in trouble."
Connor shakes his head. "It's okay. I wanted to." Jude makes a face, and Connor says, "Really. I mean, I didn't want to get into a fight, but, it's okay." Connor shrugs. "I'd do it again."
He says it like he means it, and Jude is pretty sure he does, but he can't stop himself from asking.
"Why?"
Connor blinks up at him, startled, like the answer should be obvious, and Jude feels his face go hot. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something so Connor won't look at him like that but he doesn't know what, and soon a soft voice behind him stops him completely.
"Jude?" He turns his head to see Lena gesturing him over. "Jude, it's time to go."
He nods, but before he can say anything, or even move, Connor is standing and grabbing Jude's wrist with his good hand, holding him in place. Jude turns to look back at Connor curiously.
His fingers grip Jude's wrist tightly, holding on like this is important.
Like Jude is important.
"You know, my dad can tell me not to hang out with you. He can check my phone, and he can keep me from spending the night at your house, but he can't stop me from being your friend." For a second, Connor looks away, looks somewhere over Jude's shoulder, but his voice sounds even stronger and more sure. "I'm still gonna be your friend."
Just as suddenly as he stood up, Connor lets go of Jude's arm and drops back down onto the folding chair. This time when he looks at Jude, his eyes are a little less bright, a little more resigned, as he adds quietly,
"Even if you don't want to be mine."
Instinctively, Jude takes a step back, overwhelmed. Of course he wanted to be Connor's friend. He wanted it more than almost anything. It's just …
He not sure what it is anymore.
Eyes wide, he backs away without saying anything. He turns to Lena and if she heard anything, he can't tell by her face. But she does put her arm around his shoulder, squeezing him to her reassuringly as they walk away. She also angles them so he can't see Blake, or his parents, or Connor's dad as they leave and he's grateful for that. He has a lot of thinking to do and he doesn't want them to influence him anymore.