Knowing Jude
Chapter 43

I don't know what's worse: the deputy principal pulling me out of class to check my locker, the fact that this is all due to a tip from my own parents, or the fact that it's my favourite teacher looking through my locker, palpable disappointment on her face.

Then the next worst possible thing that can happen does.

The bell for lunch rings and the hallway floods with students.

And here I am, flanked by two teachers checking my locker for drugs.

The embarrassment I could be feeling right now is buried beneath shades and shades of anger. The only thing I can think about is how I'm going to make this right and watch Maria writhe in this same murk she has me grovelling in. My parents have shown a complete loss of trust in me.

I thought I felt alone before, but not to this extent.

I'm completely alone and I don't care anymore.

I keep my eyes stuck on the ceiling panels but I can still feel the lingering stares on me and hear the whispers and the loud unconcealed laughs.

"There's nothing here," Ms. Fernandez says finally, stepping from my locker.

I look at Mr. Phil, waiting for his verdict. I hold his intimidating gaze for a few seconds, feeling daring.

Go on, go ahead and hang me for crimes I've not committed.

"It better stay that way, young lady."

I say nothing, even as Ms. Fernandez asks me to see her in the evening before they disappear into the crowd of students.

As I stand there, gritting my teeth. I've never felt so reckless. I feel like leaving this hellhole behind. Walk out of the gates and don't come back for the day and fuck whatever happens afterwards because could things possibly get any worse? At least then I would be getting punished for actual wrongdoing.

I turn and lock my locker. When I turn back around I'm pulled into a hug that I wasn't expecting. I don't have to wonder who it is though since Jude's scent clouds my senses.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask even as my fingers dig into his sides and hold on tight, face hidden in his chest.

"You looked about to cry," he whispers in my ear and that's his ticket to getting pushed away.

"Fuck off."

He stands a couple of inches away and shakes his head. "They're crazy. You, drugs? You?"

Next, he rests his arm around my shoulder and leads me through the hallway. People part for us, people watch, people talk, and for the first time ever I don't give a fuck. Besides, this current position is so comfortable I can barely think beyond Jude's warmth and intoxicating cologne, and I wonder how the experience is on his part because I'm not exactly doused in some bewitching perfume.

"Do you want to get out of here for lunch?"

"And go where?"

"Just answer my question."

I throw all caution to the wind. "Yeah, okay, fine."

After all, the sound of the cafeteria right now sounds a little suffocating, and I don't want the temptation of strangling my own sister with hundreds of eyewitnesses.

We exit the school buildings and head into the student parking lot.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful this car is?" I ask once we are inside his car.

"Once or twice."

I turn to look at the backseat and regret the move when my gaze falls on a bright pink bra. "Oh, wow, somebody's been busy."

"What?" He swivels around too. "Oh." He looks at me, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "I was abstaining for two long weeks, cut me some slack."

I face the front. "None of my biz. At least it doesn't smell fishy in here."

"Fishy? You mean like sex? Do you even know what that smells like?"

I keep my gaze straight out the windshield and pretend I didn't hear that.

He chuckles and opens his glove compartment. In the corner of my eye, I see numerous multicoloured things fall out, and I look to confirm that yes, it's candies.

"You never explained your obsession with these things," I point out as he scoops a handful and drops them back into the compartment. Then he picks another handful and puts it in my hands.

"I'm addicted."

"To sweets."

He unwraps one and ducks it into his mouth. "And all sweet things."

"How does that even happen?"

He shrugs.

"And they're all red."

"Looks good on me."

My eyes are of course drawn to his lips. I agree.

We end up parked in some open public playground, bags of take away fries and soda between us where we are seated on the bonnet of his car. His bag is doused in tomato sauce, the red of which is seeping through the brown paper. He must work out a lot to keep his fit form because I don't think his eating habits are all that healthy.

We are working on a take-Maria-down agenda, Jude being my only hope of getting evidence against her. He claims he has seen her around some of the shady places he hangs out in constantly, so it's only going to be a matter of time. Some photos, maybe a video, and I'm free. Redeemed.

"You know," Jude says after a while. "I can't think of any other reason for her doing all this other than jealousy."

I huff. "Jealous? Of what?"

He shrugs. "You got the brains, you're pretty, the folks are proud of you."

"That's bullshit. Maria doesn't care what grade she gets at school. And have you taken a good look at her? She's tall, she's hot, everything boys run blindly for. She runs with the cool crowd, she's popular at school. That's all she gives a shit about."

"And the folks?"

I shrug. "I don't think she cares."

He glances down at me. "Everybody does. I mean, I used to."

"She's the one who chooses to rebel, talks shit to everyone at home, and puts little effort in her studies. I don't think it's anyone's fault our parents think she's difficult!" I sigh. "If all she wanted was their approval, all she would have to do is drop all that shit. But no, that was too hard for her to do and she decided putting me in her place would be the perfect way to look good."

He leans back, resting on his elbows. "Okay, jeez, calm down."

"I'll calm down when I'm no longer grounded and not required to leave my door wide open at all times, thank you very much."

"At least they're not having you two share a room again."

I shudder. "I swear I'd take the couch in the living room."

"How do they even believe you could do all that shit?" I feel him poke me in the back. "You don't look like you could harm a fly."

"She's quite convincing, and I'll take that as a compliment."

"I don't think you're as harmless when angry."

"You better believe it."

He laughs, pulls away and messes my hair, taking off my hairband. Naturally, I go for an attack but he captures my hand as if expecting the move. "I love your hair, so soft and curly, so why the fuck do you straighten it?" "It's not straightened now, is it?"

"No, and that's rare."

I sigh. "Jude, my hair is the least of my problems right now."

As you reach the final pages, remember that 00005s.com is your destination for the complete story. Share the joy of reading with others and spread the word. The next chapter is just a visit away!

"I got you covered, the real mean girl will be known soon enough, I got this. Worry about how you're going to explain to Nicki about kissing her man. Have you talked to her yet?"

"No, and that's none of your business, Jude."

"I could help. I'm good at explanations."

"Bet you are."

"I really hope nothing is going on between you two though."

I sigh for the millionth time today and shoot him a look that I hope expresses my irritation clearly. Tired of trying to make it clear that nothing is going on between me and Cole, I say, "Bad for you, just this morning we were discussing how many kids we're going to have."

He scoffs but says nothing.

"Why does it even matter to you?"

"Because you're my friend," he says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"And?"

He shrugs.

"Any other minor reason besides that major one?"

He shakes his head. "Nope."

"I was caught by surprise and he was under influence of whatever cocktail of drugs. The next time you suggest anything might be going on between me and Cole, we'll have a problem."

"Oh, I like it when you talk tough."

I roll my eyes and sit back to look over the empty field. For the first time ever the ending of a school term doesn't sound glorious to me. And that's saying something since this is my second last term in high school. This holiday means getting cooped up in a house full of people who don't trust me and are suspicious of everything I do. I don't think I knew how much my parents' approval meant to me until I didn't have it anymore. It hurts that they don't really trust me and the fact that I know I'm innocent makes me bitter and feel like saying to hell with it all, I don't care, but I can't let Maria screw me around like that.

My gaze is drawn to Jude when he sits upright once again and starts flexing his arms. I lift an eyebrow as I watch his biceps expand and contract. "Show off much?"

He winks at me. “I'm sexy and I know it.”

"What's that?" I ask, pointing at a thin long scar that I'm just noticing on his arm. It starts just above the inside of his elbow and disappears into his T-shirt sleeve. I reach forward and lift the sleeve. The scar stops right beneath his underarm. He looks at where I'm touching him, then lifts his hands. He trails his right forefinger around his inner left wrist. "I was nine. I didn't know where to cut."

My eyes lift to his face, get a little distracted by his lips that are glistening red in the afternoon sun, then meet his blue gaze. "What do you mean?"

He pushes my hand away from his arm and rolls his sleeve back into place. "What do you think?"

"You used to self-harm?"

"No." He laces his fingers together. "I wasn't going for anything temporary."

I frown. "You wanted to..."

"Commit suicide? Yeah."

"At nine."

"What, is there an appropriate age for it?"

"What happened?"

He shrugs. "I was tired."

"Of?"

He gives me a dry look. "What else? Life!"

"A nine-year-old tired of life?"

As you reach the final pages, remember that 000005s.com is your destination for the complete story. Share the joy of reading with others and spread the word. The next chapter is just a visit away! "You don't know shit."

"How about you tell me about it?"

"So that you can serve me a nice little dish of pity? Or, oh, wait, it's disgust that often comes my way."

"Guess we'll never know."

I turn back towards the field. Silence looms over us for several minutes. In which I'm trying to picture a nine-year-old Jude in my mind. An angry, tired nine-year-old. What would happen to push a nine-year-old over the edge like that? Abuse? Loss? Did his family hate him that far back? I imagine his blue eyes lifeless, tears mangling with blond strands as he took the knife to his skin.

"Was it because of your mother?" I ask anyway, needing to understand the kind of pain he had been going through.

"Everything I've done in my life was because of my mother."

"What happened to her? I know you said she's gone, but..." I trail off with a shrug.

He picks his soda can. "I'd rather not talk about that."

"Okay, and Cole? Earlier on you said you owe your life to Cole." I gesture to his arm. "Did he stop you from doing that?"

He keeps chugging on his drink but responds at last. "Most times."

"Most? When did you meet him?"

"In primary school, but first, we were enemies. We were trying to score the same girl in eighth grade."

"You were trying to score girls in primary school?"

"What, you never had a boyfriend back then?" He pauses. "Why am I asking, I doubt you've ever kissed anyone in high school. That's apart from Cole last Saturday."

"So who got the girl?"

"None of us, she was this little pretentious-"

"Prude?" I interject. "Jude, you got rejected, stop trying to massage your ego. Just because a girl has enough sense to not let you play around with her doesn't make her a prude or whatever."

"Whatever." He slides off the hood. "I'm leaving, you coming?"

"Do you feel like doing it anymore?"

He bunches up the empty paper bags in his hands and throws them away, accurately aiming for a trash bin that's a few metres away.

"Sometimes," he says in a quiet voice, gazing down at the car hood.

My lips part soundlessly. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't think he would actually say that. He looks...fine.

His eyes lift to me. "It's always back there, you know? In my mind. And when I push it back? Night comes and sometimes so do the nightmares." His Adam's apple bobs. "It's..." He pauses and laughs. "I can never escape it, no matter what. I did it and it never leaves me. Do you know what's funny?"

I nod, despite the fact I'm a little lost.

"Sometimes I can convince myself it wasn't my fault, that I didn't know what I was doing? That I couldn't have known. It's what they keep trying to drill into my mind. Your Dad, Cole. And sometimes it sticks. Then something happens, maybe Jared says something or I have a nightmare and I'm back where I started."

"This thing... That you did... When was that?" I ask cautiously when he stops talking.

"I was five."

I hold my breath. "What did you do?"

I watch his face, see his jaw clench and unclench.

"It's a wonder you've not heard about it yet." He faces me, a single eyebrow raised. "But don't go asking around. I'll tell you."