Jud
Jud might not have done it if it hadn't been for that apple. The apple that sealed their fate, that bound them together the rest of their lives.
He sat across from Laurey at dinner, like always, and allowed himself to look at her a few seconds at a time to take in the way her cheeks looked flushed from being outside, the way a few strands of her hair were hanging loose from her bun. Even if Laurey couldn't see him looking, there was Aunt Eller to worry about. He got the feeling she knew what things were like between him and Laurey, saw the way she glanced towards him whenever he tried to talk to her, her eyes full of something between pity and wariness, like his love for Laurey was something pathetic, yet something to be scared of.
Neither Laurey nor Aunt Eller asked him what Claremore was like, as though they hadn't even noticed he was gone. They just talked to each other, like always, even though they'd been together on the farm all day long.
Laurey finished her dinner, then let her gaze settle on the fruit basket on the table between them.
"Apples look awful good," she spoke aloud to no one in particular. I'm gonna—"
Jud immediately reached forward and grabbed one for her, grabbed the ripest, juiciest one he could, and he met her eyes as he held it out for her. She looked almost startled, as though she had forgotten he were there, or thought he didn't deserve to know when she was hungry. Her glance flicked down to his hand, to his fingernails caked with dirt from working the land she lived on, that she prospered from. With a sharp exhale that was something like a laugh, she reached out and took an apple from the basket for herself, careful not to brush up against his hand. Then she walked to the living room couch, where she sat against the armrest and propped her book up on her lap while she ate.
He stayed still for a moment, the apple still in his hand, then bit into it to try and disguise what had happened. He didn't want Aunt Eller's pity on top of his embarrassment.
He wanted to get up and throw his chair down, wanted to scream, maybe cry, wanted to leave and never come back, wanted to let Laurey see how well she could get on without the labor of his dirty hands. But he managed to stay still. Laurey could ignore him as much as she liked, but he had a power over her that she didn't even know about. He knew then that he would flag down El Gallo again when he came by. He didn't even care about winning her affection anymore. He needed to see Miss Laurey put in her place. Wanted to see her as hurt and humiliated as she made him feel. If she still hated him afterward, if she decided to be with Curly instead, it would be worth it to see her sobbing and helpless. Might not even rescue her unless he felt like it. He could stand there in the room and watch it happen if he wanted; he could deny her the help she would beg for, and she'd deserve it.
He walked back to the smokehouse, his fingernails digging crescent-shaped wounds into his flesh.