A/N: For all the Halsey fans out there, Ashley Francis is a play on her real name. Just wanted to pay homage to the woman who inspired this piece of writing. And, yes, the Wilson Hotel is a shitty parody of the Hilton Hotels, lol. Don't sue me.
Hope you enjoy this chapter!
II. "What Happened to the Soul That You Used to Be?"
Jen's eyes darted around the table every two seconds, wondering if the gang could see the words I slept with Jude written on her forehead. She couldn't believe that the one night she lost control and gave into her impulses ended up in a one-night stand—with him of all people. And, from what she recalled in the depths of her groggy mind, it was great sex, better than any night she spent with Logan. Great sex with her best friend Jude Lizowski.
Every time she reviewed the facts, her headache pounded harder. Her better judgement was punishing her for being so stupid.
She wanted to ask herself what she was thinking the previous night, but, apparently, it was nothing at all.
"So, Jude, where were you last night?" Wyatt asked after swallowing a forkful of eggs. "I tried calling you but I couldn't get in touch."
Jen's eyes widened. Now that he mentioned it, she recalled hearing a phone ring over and over again, but the bed's squeaking and his groans had been far more enticing than answering a phone call; neither of them stopped for it, only paying attention to the havoc they had wreaked together. On top of that, Jude and Wyatt were supposed to share a room during the trip.
Oh my god, everything just got worse, she thought. He's onto us.
Jude, after calmly taking a sip of his orange juice, filled his mouth with white lies. He said, "Sorry, bro. I got really wasted last night, so Jen let me pass out in her room," telling the most innocent version of the truth.
He left out the parts where they made out and practically groped each other against her door before she snatched him into her room, never once letting go of him. Recalling this made Jen blush. She was grateful Jonesy spoke so no one could draw attention to her rosy cheeks.
"Because nothing says 'true friends' like, 'I'm drunk and I need somewhere to crash for the night,'" Jonesy joked, coaxing a chuckle out of Nikki.
"Yeah, 'true friends,'" Jen mumbled before smiling sheepishly.
While taking a bite of some bacon, Nikki eyed Jen carefully. Something didn't sit right with her. She wasn't one to pry, yes, but she knew when Jen was bothered by something and she would get to the bottom of it. She didn't like seeing Jen lost and nervous; it wasn't typical of her to be this way.
Once they all finished their breakfast-with Jonesy letting out a burp and declaring how he was "stuffed," only for Nikki to slap him on the arm and tell him to learn some manners—they hurried to the elevators, wanting to go back to their rooms before venturing into the jungle that was New York City.
With her five friends crowding around her on the way up, Jen sweat bullets, nervous that everyone knew everything about last night and was ready to call her out about it.
Once they reached the fourth floor, Caitlin glanced at Nikki before saying, "Oh crap, I think I left my phone downstairs!"
"Want us to stay and help you look for it?" Wyatt asked.
"You don't have to. I was hoping Jen and Nikki could help me find it. You guys can go off and do your 'guy stuff.'"
"Oh, okay." Before getting off the elevator he said, "See you three later."
They waved goodbye to the boys before Caitlin pushed the button for the first floor, convincing Jen that they were headed back to the place where they ate breakfast.
Jen sighed in relief before Nikki slammed a button which stopped the elevator.
"Jude did more than just pass out in your room, didn't he?" Nikki was never one to dance around an issue.
"What makes you think that?" Jen asked, hoping to distract her and Caitlin.
"You and Jude have been acting super weird all morning. Then again, you two were weird when I let you guys leave the bar last night." Caitlin gasped as the puzzle pieces formed the bigger picture. "OMG, you didn't?!"
Nikki and Caitlin's knowing eyes burned through Jen and became too hot to handle, so she burst under pressure. "Okay, I had sex with Jude last night!" she exclaimed, the guilt overwhelming her. "And not just any kind of sex—it was hot, drunk sex—and I loved it and, holy crap, I want to die."
"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" Caitlin squealed. "No way!"
"I knew it," Nikki said as she crossed her arms. "Why didn't you want us to know?"
"Because," she began, "I didn't want you guys to judge me. I'm always in other people's business and calling people out and now I feel like one big hypocrite. Plus, friends aren't supposed to sleep around with friends. I'm not comfortable with the idea of being more than friends with someone like you are, Nikki. You and Jonesy worked out perfectly—and that's great—but Jude and I aren't the same. And after last night, I don't think we'll ever be the same. What do I do?"
"First of all, Jonesy and I are complete opposites, if you haven't noticed; we've definitely had our share of bumps and bruises and we had to figure out how to make our relationship work again once I moved back from Iqaluit, so we're not perfect. Second, talk to Jude; be honest."
"What do I even say to him?"
"Tell him what's on your mind."
Caitlin added, "And you need to figure out how to move on from this. The sooner you two define the relationship, the better."
"Dudes, I did something last night and I feel really bad about it," Jude spilled as soon as the guys entered Wyatt's (and technically his) room.
"What happened?" Wyatt asked.
He paused, his mind briefly recalling last night when Jen was underneath him, when she made him feel mellow and ecstatic. "I kinda-sorta slept with Jen."
"No way," Wyatt said, his eyes wide.
"Nice!" Jonesy shouted. "Was it good?"
"Jonesy, that's your step-sister," Wyatt clarified.
He rolled his eyes. "Okay, but sex is sex regardless, Wyatt. And we're talking about Jude of all people here. So, how was it?"
"I was pretty drunk, but from what I can remember, it was pretty damn good."
"That's my boy," Jonesy exclaimed like a proud father before calming down. "Wait, if was as good as you said it was, then why do you feel bad about it?"
"Because she's super embarrassed that it happened and I don't know how to approach her about it."
"I think you and Jen need to figure out where to go from here, especially after doing something as big as sleeping together," Wyatt suggested.
Jude turned to Jonesy for any similar advice.
"I agree with Wyatt, dude. Unless you wanna hook up with her again, you've gotta DTR."
"DTR?" Jude asked, his expression bewildered.
"Define the relationship."
"Ohhhh, okay."
"Speaking of DTR, I need to tell you guys something, but you've got to swear it won't leave this room." Once he had their word, Jonesy asked, "You guys know how much I love Nikki and that I'd do anything for her, right?"
They nodded.
"Well lately, she's been driving me crazy, in a really good way, and I feel something real with her—so real that I wanna marry her."
Jude smiled bright. At least one of his friends found both luck and love with a girl. (Then again, Caitlin did, too.) "Awesome!"
"Jonesy, that's great!" Wyatt said.
"Yeah, I know." But his own grin faded into a frown. "The only problem is that I don't really know how she feels about marriage, especially because her parents got divorced last year, remember?"
He surely remembered. He remembered how upset she had been for not seeing it coming; she was furious that she didn't realize she was the glue which kept them together, that leaving Nunavut for college in Toronto further pulled them apart. Though he tried to tell her that not everybody recognized the signs, that the ghost of a relationship wasn't always easy to see, she insisted that she was dumb for being so blind. He had never seen her inflict so much self-loathing upon herself. Of course, he helped her through the pain, knowing exactly what it felt like for parents to fall out of love, and he wanted to be the reason for her to stay in love. Despite his many faults, he wanted to be the best boyfriend he could to give her a reason that love existed.
"If she's really ready and loves you, she'll wanna marry you. And if she doesn't, then you'll just have to wait for her," Jude said.
Wyatt interjected, "But if you don't say anything, you'll never know how she feels and everything will just be a mystery."
"You're right," Jonesy conceded, thinking about every possible way he could ask for her to be his wife, hoping it would take only one to convince her.
When the night fell, Jen heard a knock on her door and her throat constricted. The time had come to clear the air of ghosts and hurricanes.
"Coming," she said as she walked towards the door. She looked out the peephole, took the chain off, and pushed the handle down, letting Jude inside Room 493 for the second time. (This time, however, she could fully comprehend her actions.)
After she ushered him to her bed, where they both sat on the edge instead of being tangled in its sheets together, there was a lull in the air.
"I'm not going to lie, Jude. Last night was fun, and I needed that."
"Wait, what?" he asked. That was the last thing he expected to hear from her.
"I know I was being confusing this morning—everything was confusing this morning—but now that I've had the chance to think about things, I think we both needed that… that release."
All he could say was, "Maybe."
"Just think about it: I broke up with my boyfriend, you broke up with Starr, we were both sad and drunk, and we needed something to make us happy."
"That's true."
"So, what's on your mind?" she asked, seeings as she did all the talking thus far.
"Other than the fact that I thought last night was really fun, too?"
She blushed.
"Even though I can't remember much, I felt this wicked chemistry between us." He looked her dead in the eyes—her sad, lonely eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't feel it, brah."
"No, I felt it, too." Comforted by his gaze, she couldn't break away and lie, not that she wanted to, either. This was their time to be honest and let their secrets slip away. She looked at his lips, biting her own in the process. Before she knew it, she had pulled him into a kiss, this one being completely sober and her own choice. His lips were warm, inviting, and tender. Once she broke away from him, her mind made a wild suggestion and she wondered if the liquor was still talking. Even wilder, she blurted her idea to him. "What if we were each other's rebounds for the week? I know it sounds crazy, but I feel less sad with you and I don't want to be sad, not while we're here in New York."
He smiled before planting another kiss on her lips. "You know I love doing crazy shit, Jen."
"Of course." She giggled. "You've gone naked skydiving, gotten a tattoo on your butt"—a tattoo she recalled seeing last night—"gone skinny-dipping in a fish tank, and… a lot of other stuff that involved being naked now that I think about it."
"I'm pretty secure with my body, if you ask me," he said with a chuckle.
After another moment of exchanging kisses and grins, she asked, "So, it's official?"
"Us hooking up for the week?"
"Mmhmm."
"Yeah, I'm cool with it."
She caressed his cheek. "Just promise that when we get back to Toronto, we'll be just friends."
"Sounds like a plan to me."
She took off her T-shirt and allowed his eyes to ghost over her body, easing into their newfound friends-with-benefits status. As he embraced her, she said, "Good, because I need you tonight."