Laurey stormed into the house, angry at Curly for telling her those pretty lies, and even angrier at herself for letting herself believe him. She stood at the kitchen counter when she heard footsteps. The same footsteps that kept her awake at night as he paced beneath her room. At first she'd been scared of those footsteps, but her fear had burned out in the weeks that had followed what he did to her. She still kept her room locked, still stayed close to Aunt Eller, but not just because she was frightened of what he might do to her.
Now she was frightened of how she thought of him whenever Curly kissed her, thought about him late at night. Some nights she even wondered what would happen if she beckoned to him from her window and opened her door for him; if it would feel as good as it had that summer. She knew that being alone with Jud Fry always brought out the worst in her. The part of her that wanted things no lady should want. But she was so mad at Curly that she didn't care.
"Hi, Jud" she leaned back against the counter, arranging her face into a smile and slightly pushing her hips forward.
"Laurey," he nodded, staying a respectful distance away from her.
"You goin' to the box social tonight?"
"Hadn't planned to." His voice was careful, measured.
"Oh" she pouted. "I was gonna go, I made a picnic basket and everything. But I don't have anyone to take me." She looked up at him through her lashes.
"Curly not takin' you?"
"That cowman?" she scoffed "no; he don't know how to handle me, I guess. Think you were right about that"
He smiled, something she hadn't seen in months, as he gratefully accepted her unspoken forgiveness. "Reckon I could take you, if you'd want." The exaggerated casualness of his voice made her smile in spite of herself.
"Really? Oh, that'd be awful sweet of you" she walked over to where he was standing. Her heart quickened at their closeness, the memory of what he had done to her warring with the countless other memories of his body pressed against hers.
He put a hand on her waist, gently as he could. "You promise to dance with me? Just with me?"
"Of course," she stood on her toes and whispered in his ear "I'm your little whore, Jud Fry."
