"Did you rob a liquor store on the way over?"
"I didn't rob it. I did, however, rob the ice-cream section at the grocery store, so if anyone who works there knows we're friends, you might want to find a new one to go to. How much room do you have in your freezer, anyway?"
"Not enough. So, we have to eat one now."
Taylor whirled around and grinned. "I like the way you think, Jude."
"So, we have enough booze and ice-cream to kill an army. Need I ask how you're doing?"
"No. So, what do you want to start with: beer or shots?"
"It's, like, four-thirty."
"Four-forty, actually," Taylor answered. "So, really, if we round, it's five o'clock. Plus, like, five o'clock somewhere, right?"
"It's your weekend, Taylor. I'm here for you."
"Then, shots! But, I have a drinking game to go with."
"That sounds like trouble."
"How much trouble can I possibly get in with you?"
"Uh, well, since my mothers aren't in hearing range, I guess I can answer that."
Taylor laughed. "All right, all right, so there's some trouble. Left or right?"
"Right."
"So, it looks like we're starting with Chocolate Therapy."
"What was the other choice?"
"Chunky Monkey."
Jude walked up behind her and peeked over her shoulder. He quickly grabbed the container. "Let's just do both."
"Perfect!"
Taylor stacked the two ice-cream containers on top of one another in his hands, then stuck two spoons on top.
"Go sit, I'm getting the drinks."
Jude shook his head, but he walked over to the couch anyway, settling in his seat. He checked his phone, but there was no message from Connor. Jude didn't really expect there to be. Connor was overly aware of when Jude was spending time with friends, and didn't like to bother him. Jude didn't think of it as bothering, but he also knew it had less to do with him and more to do with Connor's ex-boyfriend.
"So, the game is we're going to watch America's Next Top Model. We drink every time a girl cries, a girl calls home, a girl from another season appears, and the judges talk about how cruel the industry is." Taylor slammed two shot glasses down on the coffee table, followed by a bottle of tequila.
"Can we at least have chaser?"
"Weak, Jude. You're weak."
"Whatever." He grabbed one of the bottles of soda he had, and then he returned to the couch. "All right, let's watch this."
"No complaints? Usually you whine about ANTM."
"You know I like Project Runway better. But I just want you to be happy. And you want to watch this."
Taylor curled up next to him on the couch, putting her head on his shoulder. "Why can't you be my boyfriend?"
"Because I'm Connor's boyfriend."
"Right." Taylor sat up and started the show. Then, she prepared two shots for them. She sunk back into Jude's side. "So, how's it going with him?"
"Good. Really good." Jude leant forward and grabbed the ice-cream.
"Uh oh. What happened?"
"What makes you think something happened?" Jude asked, prying the lid off one of them.
"Because you just grabbed for those with a desperation to rival mine."
"No one's desperation rivals yours."
"Rude!" Taylor smacked him on the arm, but Jude just laughed; he'd been expecting that. "So, was it a big something?"
"No, not like that. I don't even think he realized …" Jude sighed and jammed his spoon into the ice-cream. "So, he doesn't believe in love. I mean, he believes in love as a whole, he just doesn't believe in someone loving him."
"And the hopeless romantic is hurt by it."
"I'm not that hopeless," Jude murmured.
"And it's not like you're in love with him."
Jude stuck his spoon in his ice-cream, and then jammed the spoon into his mouth. He could feel the look Taylor was giving him and he really didn't want to see it.
"Jude?"
"No," Jude said, his voice a little lackluster. "No, I wouldn't say I'm in love with him."
"So, what would you – Shot!"
Jude reached forward and down the shot, and then he took a swig from his soda bottle. He offered the bottle to Taylor, but she waved him off and refilled the shot glasses.
"So, what would you say?"
"That I really, really, really, really, really, really like him. That it would be so easy to fall in love with him."
"Why don't you?"
"Because, with his past and everything, I … I know he won't fall in love with me back," Jude said, the lump in his throat aching.
"Didn't stop you from asking him out in the first place."
"I didn't know about all that stuff."
"You knew there was something. We talked about it, right off the bat, remember?"
"I was there. Shot."
They drank again.
"So?"
"So what, Taylor?"
"So why not let yourself fall? And if you're not going to let this thing go all the way, then why bother?"
"Says the queen of 'having fun'."
Taylor was unapologetic, and stole some of Jude's ice-cream. "You're the one that's always said that the two of us see dating and love and relationships differently."
Jude made a face, because she was right.
"And you're the one that keeps saying he's different," Taylor added softly.
Jude shook his head. "We haven't been together that long. No point in worrying about it now."
Taylor made a small noise.
"What?" Jude asked.
"I've just never heard you sound scared before."
"I'm not scared! I just … really can't lose him. And I know if I push him, then I will lose him. I don't want to do that, Taylor."
Taylor looked surprisingly smug.
"What are you thinking?"
"Nothing!"
"Taylor."
"It just sounds a lot like the selfless things that people in love say."
Jude dug his spoon into the ice-cream container that he was holding, getting just a bit of ice-cream on the end of it, and the he touched it to Taylor's nose. She shrieked and whacked the back of his hand with her spoon.
"Ouch! Hey!"
"Hey yourself! You didn't have to put ice-cream on my nose. Why would you?"
"Because I could! Why bother me about being in love?"
"Because I can. And because you're my best friend and it's obvious. But, fine, whatever, I won't push if you don't want me to. I just hope you and Connor are happy." Taylor sat up. "Speaking of lover boy, am I going to get to see him this weekend?"
"He wouldn't be against it, I don't think, if you wanted to. He's going to a basketball game with a friend tomorrow, but I know he's free any other time. Would you want to?"
"I think so. I mean, I didn't exactly give him the best impression of me, and I didn't really get to talk to him when I was totally sober. Maybe ask him?"
"I can definitely do that," Jude said. "So, how's Daria?"
"Better. We're good. She's a little annoyed that I said she was the one that was pregnant, versus me. But I think that's just because she thinks I jinxed her."
Jude reached forward and knocked on the coffee table.
"I know, right? But Daria's so careful. Way more careful than I was, and I was pretty damn careful. I was so scared of … having what happened happen." Taylor shook her head, then lifted Jude's arm and tucked herself against his side.
"You're okay, Taylor," Jude said.
"Shot," Taylor replied.
(-.-)
Saturday morning, Connor video called his father, just like he was supposed to. He rearranged his legs more comfortably in his seat and picked up his coffee cup. When Adam called, he was seated at the kitchen table, drinking his own coffee.
"So, I was thinking you might not want to come back here for break. I know you and he didn't live right here, but you were close enough. I don't want to stir up those bad memories."
"Thank you."
"Your mom's favourite place in the world was New York, you know that."
Connor nodded.
"She always meant to take you."
They'd been going to go. The three of them, after his mother found out about the cancer. She had found out about it late, though, and by the time they had booked the trip and packed their bags, she had been too sick to take him. So he had spent days on her bed with her and her photo albums, talking about her memories of the city and her favourite places to go while she was there. She hadn't broken his heart by promising to take him when she got better; he wasn't young enough to believe it, and she loved him enough to tell him the truth.
"I know."
"So, I was thinking, we'd finally go this year. I'll take you to her spots, maybe tell you some stories you were too young for her to tell you."
Connor ducked his head and smiled down at his coffee. His hands were shaking as he thought about his mother's face and about visiting places that she had loved. He wanted to get to know her as the man he was now, as best as he could. He thought that she would like him. At the very least, he knew his mother would love him. He could feel that. Sometimes more than others, but he wanted to stand in her favourite place and feel it and no doubt it, even for half a moment.
Adam continued, "I was also hoping that it would be a good time for the two of us to get to know each other, spend some good time together. Maybe not the kind of father and son we should be, but at least try to be friends."
"I really like the sound of all of that, Dad."
"Good. Have you gotten your finals schedule yet?"
"No, it will probably be another two or three weeks."
"Okay, let me know so that I can book flights."
"I will."
"Do you want to come home for any part of break?"
"Um, no, not really. Unless you really wanted me to."
"No, that's okay," Adam shook his head. "If you don't want to, you don't have to. So, I'll fly out the day after your last final, and then we can leave the day after that. How does that sound?"
"I think that sounds good. Um, I … Dad?"
"Yes?"
"I'd still like you to meet Jude," Connor whispered.
"And I would still like to meet Jude," Adam said. "We'll see what time my flight is, and then maybe we can do dinner that night. If we can't, I'll make sure our flight the next day is late enough that we can do lunch. What do you think of that plan?"
"I like it. Oh! Wait!"
"What?"
"I keep forgetting to show you."
"Show me what?"
Connor spun around and grabbed his wallet. He pulled out the photo strip of him and Jude, and bent it carefully, so that their faces didn't get creased, but so that Adam wouldn't have to see them kissing. He wasn't sure if Adam was ready to see that; he wasn't sure if he was ready to show Adam that.
"I wanted to show you what he looked like," Connor held the photo up to the webcam as best as he could; his hands were shaking so badly he wasn't sure that Adam would be able to see the image clearly.
"He looks nice." Adam hesitated, and then added, "You both look happy. You look nice together."
Connor felt like he was glowing. "Thank you."
"You're meeting up with your friend tonight, right?"
"Yes. I'm meeting him at six-thirty. The game is at seven. I'm a little scared, Dad."
"You'll be okay."
Connor reached behind him to slide his empty coffee mug on the counter. "Everyone says that about me."
"Well, everyone's right."
"Thanks, Dad. I … I'm t-t-trying."
"I think you're doing well."
Connor wished people wouldn't compliment him. He never knew what to say to it, and he always left like they were lying to him anyway. "Dad? Um, would you mind if I hung up now? I … I kind of wanted to spend some time by myself before going to meet up with Jake."
"Sure. Text me or call me if you need anything."
"I will."
"I love you."
"You too. Have a good day, Dad."
Connor closed his laptop and put it away. He had no idea how tonight was going to go, and he was so utterly terrified of it that it left him paralyzed in his computer chair for far longer than it should have. Even when it was over, Connor still wouldn't believe that tonight would be fine.
(-.-)
When Jude woke, the first thing out of his mouth was Taylor's name. The second was, "fuck."
"There, there, Jude," she giggled.
"This is why I don't drink that much," he groaned, and shoved his head under his pillow.
Taylor laughed again. "I put water on your nightstand for you, honey. Though, I will say, you should drink that much more often. You're funnier. Although you got kind of weepy around three a.m."
Three? The last thing Jude remembered was one.
Jude sat up, a sick feeling in the back of his throat. His head felt heavy, and he pushed his curtains apart slightly. His apartment never got bright, but even the little bit of sunlight he could see left him feeling gross. He picked up the glass of water that Taylor had gotten for him and retreated back inside of his curtained bed, shutting them forcefully. Taylor was tucked up against the pillows on the other side, playing something on her phone.
"Why are you so fine?"
"Unlike some people, I'm not a baby."
"Shut up."
"Can't make me."
Jude took a long drink of his water. "What time is it anyway?"
"It's only, like, eleven-thirty. Why? Do we have big plans later?"
Jude shook his head, but that made him feel so dizzy he had to hand Taylor his water and slump back against his pillows. "Our big plan is to sleep all day."
"You have got to be joking."
Jude turned his head to look at her. "Nice bedhead by the way."
"Shut up!"
"Can't make me."
"Fine," Taylor said. "If you won't pick today's plans, I will. Call your boy toy so we can do lunch."
"Don't call him that. He's more than that."
Taylor bit her lip. She leant across him to put the water down and then she squinted at him.
"Why are you looking at me like that? You're kind of creeping me out, Taylor."
"Do you remember all of last night?"
"Uh, not really and not clearly? Why?" Jude nudged her, though his hangover wouldn't let him smile like he normally would have. "Did we end up making out? Is this some kind of gross morning after?"
"Haha, ew," Taylor sneered. "But, no. You started talking about Connor."
"And? What's the big deal?"
"Drunk words are sober thoughts, right?"
"Just spit it out," Jude groaned. He couldn't imagine he'd said anything bad about Connor. He didn't think anything bad about Connor at all.
"You said you were in love with him."
"It's November!" Jude winced at his own volume. "I don't … I mean, I can't. I like him, Taylor. I just care about him."
"Okay, whatever you say, Jude."
"It's my relationship, Taylor."
"I know, and you know you best. I just want you to be happy."
"I am happy, and I don't need to be in love to be happy." He caught sight of her face. "I'm not scared to love him, really. It's just not the time to think about those feelings. You know, just because I like the idea of love a lot more than you do doesn't mean it's not a big deal to me."
Taylor sighed and she sunk back under the blankets next to him. She tucked herself into bed next to him, and the slight swaying of the mattress made Jude feel a little sick, but he put his arm around Taylor anyway.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just easier to talk about you and Connor than anything else. It's going well for you and I want you to stay happy. I always want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy."
"And you deserve to be happy too, Taylor. It'll come. You don't need to worry about me, either. Things are good."
Taylor nodded. "So, going to call him about tomorrow?"
"I'll text him when my head stops spinning."
"That's fair," Taylor agreed.
"Did I say anything else?"
"Nothing else important. You got really bitchy about the models on ANTM, which was awesome," Taylor said. "And then one of them had a sob story about her boyfriend and how much she missed him and loved him and you got onto the subject of Connor, which was sweet. And then you said 'I'm not scared to be in love with him; I'm scared to say it'. But with a lot more drunk slurring than that. I asked you what you meant, and then you started on a tangent about the word 'smize' and that was the end of it. For the record, I think you're right. Smize does sound a little like an STD."
Jude laughed.
"So, now that you're not drunk anymore, are you going to explain what you meant?"
"I think smize sounding like an STD is self-explanatory."
"About the Connor part," Taylor clarified.
"I don't even remember saying it."
"Drunk words are sober thoughts."
"So you've said."
Jude tucked his arm behind his head, and Taylor draped herself across him.
"Were you okay last night? Sorry I was out of it. I should have been there for you."
"I don't need to be coddled," Taylor sniffed. "And you just goofing off and being Jude was the best thing for me. What I did was the right decision and I know that. I don't feel bad or guilty about it. So, I don't really need to be comforted. I just wanted to come here and have something feel normal. Because things don't feel normal at home. I keep feeling like Daria is looking at me funny."
"It'll work out."
"Yeah, yeah," she said cynically. "Are you too hungover to get breakfast for me?"
"Oh, absolutely." Jude grabbed his phone. "Under B there should be 'Breakfast Place', one and two, and there's also 'Brunch Place' that delivers."
"I love you."
"I know."
"And you're paying."
"I know that too."
"How's a million pancakes sound?"
"Get me bacon and we've got a deal."
"Done," Taylor said, and hit the dial button.
(-.-)
Connor walked to the front of the gymnasium and he stood there awkwardly, waiting for Jake. He knew that he was early, but Connor had a tendency to be early to things. There were already people moving in and out of the building, but mostly in, wearing the bright red and gold colours of their university. There were, however, some people in silver and green colours, and Connor thought they must be from the opposing team. He wasn't lingering out front long when Jake appeared, happy and smiling, wearing a baseball cap with their team's mascot on it.
"Hey! You excited?"
"I think so? I, um, don't know that much about basketball."
"My girlfriend usually explains it to me, but, fine, I get to keep my masculine card by explaining chess to her. Which she dutifully plays with me on Saturdays if I get the wine coolers she likes."
"Sounds like a good girlfriend."
"Yeah, I love Amy more than anything," Jake said. "Come on, let's go in."
"Sure thing."
"So, how's your boyfriend?" Jake asked.
"G-g-good. He's got a friend visiting from, um, home this weekend."
"Old friends are great friends," Jake said. "But, new friends can be good too."
"I hope so," Connor said quietly.
They found their seats, which were incredibly close to the court, and Jake made a comment about how much of a basketball fan Amy was.
"Usually she's in full face paint and she puts me in full face paint," Jake said, "but I'm too lazy to do it when she's not doing it for me."
"She must be dedicated," Connor murmured. "I had to do Jude's face paint for Halloween. It … took me a while."
"Jude's the boyfriend?" Jake asked.
Connor nodded.
"What was his Halloween costume?"
"He was Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz."
"So not even a lot of make-up." Jake laughed, and Connor tried to laugh too, but he got the small feeling that Jake was laughing at him. It wasn't unusual for him to feel that way, even when he knew better, and he knew he had to remember that he was paranoid and that he didn't think clearly.
"Eyebrows and his nose."
"You're a perfectionist, then," Jake mused. "Which is good for the sake of the project."
"The project is going well enough on its own." Connor shifted uncomfortably. The adrenaline in the air was getting to him, and he realized that he hadn't thought of how hyped everyone could be. He clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath. Fights broke out at sports events all the time; Connor just hoped that it wasn't going to happen at this sports event.
"We've done a lot of work. At the very least, I think we'll pass."
"Which is the point," Connor murmured.
"True enough," Jake agreed.
They quieted as the cheerleaders hit the gymnasium floor, the music to the routine loud enough to rattle Connor's bones. He folded his hands in his lap and tried to find a way to sit that wasn't close to the people behind him, in front of him, or on either side of him. There was no good way to sit, and so he held himself still and tried to breathe. Jake wasn't bad, and being around Jake wasn't bad, he just wasn't sure if he would ever want to go through this again. He swallowed, and told himself to just think of halftime. He would get to talk to Jude and then, he would have time to breathe until it was over. He could do it, if he thought of it in slices.
"Oh, ouch," Jake said, wincing. "The splits."
Connor watched a small blonde woman drop into a perfect splits, and he cringed thinking of it too. "Yeah," he agreed, "the splits."
(-.-)
"Get it away, get it away, get it away."
Taylor waved the bottle under his nose, and Jude pushed her away, trying not to feel sick and dizzy.
"It's just you psychologically torturing yourself at this point. You're not hungover."
"I don't want to smell alcohol," Jude whined.
"Baby," Taylor sniffed. "It's a cooler. There's, like, nothing in it."
"How are you even still drinking?" Jude asked.
"I have a void in my life I need to fill."
Jude stared at her.
"Coolers aren't even real alcohol," Taylor said, while Jude shook his head.
"It's real alcohol if it makes my stomach churn," Jude said. "Just the smell of it makes me remember being really hungover and I just don't want to deal with that right now."
"Your loss," Taylor said. "But my gain, I guess."
"Just don't overdo it."
"I'm not going to poison myself and I'm not going to turn into an alcoholic but if I want to make my liver cry for one weekend out of the month, then that's entirely my business."
"I'm here for you."
"You keep saying!" Taylor cried impatiently. "I know that! We've been friends for long enough that I more than know that. Now, stop it and go back to being Jude. Okay? Thanks."
Jude sighed, but he didn't know if it was more at Taylor or himself, and he allowed himself to slump back into the couch. Taylor picked up her bottle of nail polish and went back to diligently painting her toenails; Jude had offered her his own to do as well, but she had shrieked at the disgusting nature of his feet and promptly turned him down. He flicked his eyes toward the TV show, but Taylor still wanted to marathon ANTM, and Jude felt brain cells die every time that he tried to watch it, which is why he usually tried to avoid it.
"What should we do for dinner?" Taylor asked. "It's getting late."
"Eh. I have some stuff we could use to make food, we could order food again." Jude shrugged. "But I don't want to go out."
"Me either," Taylor said. "I've been in my pyjamas for like twenty-four hours and I don't want to break that streak."
"I need to call Connor in, like, half an hour."
"I won't let you forget. 'Cause you need to ask him about lunch tomorrow."
"I won't forget," Jude promised. "Mostly because I know you won't let me."
Taylor capped her nail polish bottle and wiggled her toes, trying to dry them.
"I like the yellow. Very pretty."
"Thanks!" Taylor pressed the sole of her foot against his arm, and Jude swatted her away.
"Don't be gross."
Taylor didn't let up. "At least my feet are prettier than yours."
Jude wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of agreeing with her, and so he shoved her feet away completely, though he was careful to grab her so that he didn't smear the nail polish. He knew how annoying it was when nail polish got messed up and it had to be redone. Also, it would give Taylor something else to squawk about. He and Taylor would sometimes rile each other on purpose, but tonight didn't feel like one of those nights.
"What kind of pizza do you want?"
"Surprise me! You know what I like! Or you should, anyway."
"Is this a friendship test?"
"If you have to ask," Taylor drawled.
Jude rolled his eyes and called the pizza place, ordering Taylor's favourite with the chocolate cake dessert. At the very least, it would keep her smiling, and Jude wanted her to smile. Then, he double-checked the time. It was definitely half-time, and like he'd been asked to, he gave Connor a call. Connor answered on the third ring.
"Hi."
"Hey, baby. How is it? Do you need a fake excuse to escape?"
"Uhm, no," Connor said slowly, letting out a long breath. "The basketball game is stressful. Jake is being nice. He keeps talking about his girlfriend."
"In a cute way or an annoying way?"
"I think it's cute. He asked if I wanted to meet her after the game. She's working her restaurant job tonight, apparently, so we're thinking about going out to eat."
"Do you want to?"
Jude heard a hitch in Connor's voice and he waited patiently, leaning against the counter.
"I think so. Is it okay if I do?"
"Of course. I want you to have fun, make a friend."
"I'm not a kid."
"Mhm. So, who's winning?"
"I think we are, right now. But Jake said the other team wouldn't have a hard time catching up."
"Okay, have fun with the rest of the game, baby."
"I will. Are you having fun with Taylor?"
"Yeah. We're ordering a pizza. Oh! What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Um. Nothing. Homework. Probably recovering from tonight. Why?"
"Do you want to go to lunch with Taylor and I before she goes home?"
"I'd like that."
"We can do our readings after, if you want."
"I'd like that too," Connor said. "Um. When? Where?"
"Taylor and I haven't really talked about that a lot. She gets on her bus at three, though, so right at noon or close to it is probably best. What do you think about where?"
"It doesn't matter to me. Maybe Taylor should choose?" Connor suggested hesitantly.
"That's a good idea. I'll ask her and I'll text you when we figure it out, okay?"
"Okay. I should go back inside. I don't know when this halftime time thing ends."
Jude laughed. "Have fun. See you tomorrow."
"Bye, Jude."
Jude hung up the phone first, and then he headed back to the couch, sitting beside Taylor.
"Connor said –"
"Shh. They're about to kick someone out."
"This season is, like, four years old. You know who wins!"
"Shh!"
Jude laughed, and then he shut his mouth.
(-.-)
Connor sat on one side of the red booth, toying with a sugar packet. He and Jake were at a slightly old, though definitely packed, diner that was just a few minute walk off of campus. They had just arrived and Jake's girlfriend, Amy, was about to get off her shift so they were waiting for her to order their food.
"So, what did you think of the game?"
Connor shrugged. "It was … all right."
"Not much of a sports guy, then? I can relate. I don't mind watching it, but doing it, I absolutely hate."
"I played baseball for a while."
"Oh, that's cool. My first year roommate wanted to be on the school's team, but he flunked try outs. He was at the batting cages every day after that."
"Are there batting cages near here?"
"Yeah, they're about a ten or fifteen minute bus drive. Not bad at all."
Connor nodded, making sure to keep that in mind. His father had asked him again about the batting cages, and Connor was nervous about going. It wasn't because he thought baseball would remind him of his ex, though there was always that slight possibility. If it weren't for baseball, he and his ex wouldn't have met. But Connor didn't play after they got together. His ex didn't have any real interest in the sport; he was only at the field because he often had to drop off or pick up his little brother. Despite that, Connor didn't connect baseball to his ex-boyfriend. No, rather, Connor was worried about being bad at it. When he looked back at baseball, Connor knew for sure that he had been good. It was the one thing that he could say. I played baseball once and I was good at it. It was the one thing that had brought him and his father together; his father had pushed him to the best and Connor hadn't wanted to fail him, so he had done it. Now, Connor was afraid that he would be rusty and bad at it; he didn't want to be bad at it. But somehow he also knew that he would be worse off if he never went back. He had the opportunity to do something that had enjoyed again. Despite his father's expectations, Connor had liked the game.
"Jude and I have been thinking about going," Connor said, though it wasn't necessarily true, but bringing Jude's name into things helped Connor ground himself almost as much as Jude's actual presence did.
"Does Jude play?"
"No. He just wants to go with me."
Jake laughed. "He must really love you."
The word 'love' froze Connor. No, of course Jude didn't, and he knew that. He knew that so surely that the thought never even worried him. Jude might be a romantic, to be in love now, after only meeting in September, was only something a fool would do, and Connor knew that Jude wasn't like that. But Connor hated the word 'love' because nothing good ever came of it; not for him. Luckily, his lamenting wasn't noticed by Jake, as Amy had decided to make her appearance.
She slid into the red booth next to Jake, and immediately he pulled her into a kiss. Connor stared at her with interest; he hadn't known what to expect from her at all. From the way Jake talked about her, she had to be a woman who was larger than a life; Connor hadn't been sure how to conceptualize his words. Amy was a large woman. She was both tall and heavy, with light brown skin and deep blue eyes. Her thick, long braid was impeccably done and hanging over her shoulder. When she moved, the gold bracelets on her left arm jingled.
It took long enough for the kiss to end that Connor was blushing and awkward by the time Amy faced him. She offered her hand and he shook it gently.
"So? Who won the game?"
"W-w-we d-d-did," Connor said.
"But it was so close, we almost didn't. We just made that last basket."
"I can't believe I missed it! But Erica owes me her soul for covering her shift so it might be worth it." Amy grinned brightly at Connor. "Hopefully you at least enjoyed the game so the tickets weren't a complete waste."
"I liked it," Connor said. "It was my first basketball game."
"Oh, really? Well, I'm glad it wasn't terrible. And hopefully Jake wasn't too boring."
"He talked about you a lot," Connor said, and then he immediately wondered whether he should have or not.
"Of course he did." She rolled her eyes. She glanced at Jake. "Don't you have anyone else to gossip about?"
"Yeah, you're just my favourite subject."
Connor expected a laugh or even just the slightest giggle. If his ex had said something that sweet to him, he would have absolutely melted, because his ex would have never said something like that of his own accord. And if Jude were to say that to him, Connor knew that he would blush, perhaps hide his face away because he was so embarrassed about how much Jude's sweet words meant to him.
Amy rolled her eyes and muttered, "Fool."
Then she shoved Jake.
It had been a light-hearted push. A gentle hand to Jake's bicep that barely bobbled him. But it made Connor's breath catch, because he just didn't see that. Hits, even ones that were delivered so gently, were only built for pain. He dug his fingernails into his thighs to try and steady himself. He watched Jake's face, because Jake smiled and affectionately rested his head against Amy, and that wasn't what abused people did. Connor knew. He'd never smiled in the aftermath, but sometimes he had crawled toward his ex, begging to be let back in his arms and his good graces, but that reaction was rare. Most of the times, he would slowly uncoil himself from the corner, nurse his wounds, and then go along with his day, waiting for the world to put itself back in order. Eventually, it would happen. Eventually it would fix itself, but not after fear and horror and tears and self-hatred. It was never like the tap that Amy had given Jake, but Connor still felt ill.
"Don't get the chowder," Amy warned them, both she and Jake oblivious to Connor. "It just looks a little sketchy."
"Okay. I'm just going to get the fish tacos," Jake said. "Those good?"
"Yep." Amy shut her menu. "Connor, what are you thinking?"
That he might keel over and die. That he was so shaky he didn't think that he didn't think he could eat.
"Um, excuse me," he said, and he bolted to the bathroom. He locked himself in one of the stalls and sat down on the toilet, lowering his head into his hands.
Hitting didn't, necessarily, equal abuse. Not like what he had seen. That wasn't even hitting necessarily, but Connor's chest was constricting and he couldn't stop thinking of it like that. He couldn't think and he couldn't breathe and whether or not his eyes were opened or closed, he could see his ex so clearly that it was like the man was standing in front of him again. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling his face grow warm as he tried to hold down tears. He shouldn't feel this way and things like this shouldn't be so alien to him but they were and he hated himself for it so completely that he stopped knowing how to think at all. He sat there, knowing that he had to try and make some kind of excuse; that he was too rattled to sit and have a conversation and that he would do nothing more than annoy Jake and Amy if he did. But Connor hated the thought of lying to them. He didn't want to feed them an excuse that he knew wasn't true because there was nothing good about lying. And to get caught in a lie … No, he would never want that to happen.
He left the bathroom on unsteady feet. He wasn't ready to go back to the main dining floor, but he knew that it would look strange if he stayed in there much longer. The only thing worse than leaving was for Jake to think that he had to come in and look for Connor. He moved toward the table, feeling as if everything was in slow motion.
"I-I-I," he started stuttering when he reached the table, thinking that he'd mumbled out that he was sorry and see what happened from here.
"Oh, wow, you look really sick," Amy said. "Are you feeling all right?"
Connor shook his head; and it wasn't even a lie!
"You look like you should lay down," Jake said. "I'll walk you back to your dorm."
"We both will," Amy said, already starting to pull on her jacket.
"N-no, it's ok-kay. I … I'll be fine."
"Really, you look like you might pass out," Amy said. "I don't know if you should be walking alone."
But Connor knew that he would pass out if they were walking with him. Once he was on his own and walking, he thought it would all clear away. So he shook his head.
"At least let me give you my number so you can text me when you get home safe, okay?" Jake said. "If I don't hear from you in an hour, then I'll send out help."
"We should really go with him," Amy insisted.
"Campus isn't exactly dead right now. If something happened to him, then there's going to be someone who notices, and I know you like to baby people, but he's clearly not a kid."
"Sorry," Amy murmured. "I'm the mom friend."
"I'll be okay," Connor tried to assure her, but his lackluster tone left Amy making faces.
"Let me give you my number," Jake repeated, and Connor handed over his phone. "I hope we'll hang out again soon, I had fun tonight."
Really?
"Me too. I'll see you in class."
"See you."
Jake handed Connor back his phone, and Connor raced out the door. He couldn't wait to get back to his room.
The chapter's title is after the song Fleurs Captives by Nicole Dollanger (reader recommended). If you have a song that reminds you of Barefoot And Bruised and would like it to be on the playlist – and possibly a chapter title – send it in and let me know! I'd love to hear your playlist suggestions! (Chapter titles are mostly chosen via shuffle.)
So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about Barefoot And Bruised, go to my tumblr URL and add backslash tagged backslash barefoot dash and dash bruised dash. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.
~TLL~
