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Jude sits curled up on the couch, staring at the TV with glassy eyes.
It is eleven in the morning. Oak is gone from the flat, in school. It’s just her and Vivi, spending the day quietly, both of them wallowing in their own heartbreak. It’s been just over a week since Heather has broken up with Vivi, and since Jude has gotten exiled from Elfhame by her newly acquired husband. Husband.
Just the thought of it makes her stomach churn with overwhelming shame. Had it been up to her, she would have taken the secret of this sham marriage to the grave. But of course, when she showed up at Vivi’s doorstep, she was forced to share the details of her marriage and her exile in excruciating detail. Vivi would only let her stay if she told her the full truth. And somewhere in her heart, Jude was glad to share the story with a pair of mostly non-judgmental ears. Vivi never cared for politics or strategy, so she didn’t look down upon Jude for this mistaken maneuver. And Vivi was also newly acquainted with heartbreak herself, so she had no place to judge Jude for a failure in love. Or whatever it was Jude felt.
“Turn that thing off. You’ve been watching Yuri on Ice for the past four hours,” Vivi calls from the kitchen. She’s prepping food, chopping something green on the countertop, but Jude doesn’t have the energy to reach for the remote. She just hums, and lets her head lull to the side. She knows it’s pathetic. She knows she’s being a mere shadow of her old self. But whatever her old self was living for, it just doesn’t seem to be there anymore. The spring that has always spurred her to action has now gone slack.
The couch dips as Vivi sits next to her. Her arms wrap around Jude. “It doesn’t help to marinate in self-pity.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” retorts Jude, but even that jab sounds half-hearted.
“Heather doesn’t want me anymore,” Vivi says with a shrug, and despite her light tone, Jude knows it costs her something to say this out loud. “Tough luck. And you, Jude… well, Cardan doesn’t want you anymore. You know what I say to that? Tough fucking luck.” She chuckles, as though she’s said something inventive and poetic.
Jude wants to shove her. Vivi, no matter how much she hates it to be so, is a faerie through and through. Which makes her capable of stomping on people’s souls without a second thought.
“Sometimes I wonder if staying in a homeless shelter would have been more pleasant,” Jude mutters. “I wish you would stop reminding me of him.”
“Your wish is granted!” Vivi exclaims with a grand gesture of her arms. Jude squints at her. “I’ve come up with the best idea on how to spend a dull Tuesday lunchtime. You will love this, I promise. No mentioning of Cardan is part of the package.”
After switching off the TV, Vivi gets up and walks over to the old CD player she’s recently gotten second-hand. She begins playing a song that Jude doesn’t recognise first, but the melody strikes her with a feeling of nostalgia; she must have heard it before, maybe in her childhood. Maybe her mom and dad played it once. As the song goes on, Vivi starts swaying in the center of the living room, as though she’s a dancer at a 1960’s club, plastering on an dreamy expression.
Wise men say only fools rush in…
Vivi sings along to the words, imitating the singer’s slow, strikingly deep voice. She swings closer to Jude, looking her in the eyes as she lowers herself on one knee, addressing the next line to her.
But I can’t help falling in love with you.
Jude’s eyes narrow. What a wonderful Tuesday lunchtime activity. Listening to sappy love songs—just to remind herself of what she once thought was possible. If only for a moment, she believed it. And maybe the song is right. It is a fool’s business. And a fool she indeed was.
“But it gets better!” says Vivi, clearly having noticed her cynicism, addressing it before Jude could shut her down. “Watch this.” Vivi pulls out something from her hoodie’s front pocket. It’s an off-white piece of paper, rolled up with some crushed green substance in the middle. Is that what Vivi was chopping before? Jude stares at it, but there’s no spark of recognition in her eyes. Vivi doesn’t care to explain. She lifts it to her mouth, propping one end between her lips, and lighting the other end with a Zippo lighter. She takes a long inhale and soon, smoke is wafting out of her nostrils. “This shit never fails me.”
“What is it?” Jude asks. The heady smell hits her only a moment later.
“Take my hand…” Vivi grabs Jude’s hand and hauls her off of the couch, pulling her into her arms. Jude, still suspicious, but slightly entertained, allows Vivi to sway her into a slow dance. “Take my whole life, too.”
“What is that thing you are smoking?”
“It’s pot, Jude.”
“Pot?” she asks, puzzled. The image of a cooking tool pops into her mind.
“Weed,” Vivi says, exasperated. “Don’t you know it? Marijuana?”
Jude has never heard of it. She was seven years old when she was taken to Faerie, and it has always frustrated her how Vivi seemed to remember and understand more of the mortal world than her and Taryn were ever able to.
“It’s a drug. You smoke it, and it makes you go woo-woo.” Vivi laughs. It’s clearly not her first time doing this. Despite not being familiar with weed, Jude knows a thing or two about drugs—Faerie is rife with them. And she isn’t an enjoyer of them.
But as Vivi leans her head against her shoulder, resting one hand on her waist and on the other side, holding their clasped hands out and away from them, Jude finds herself relaxing. The melody of the music is soothing and has a sway to it. It almost feels like Vivi has her wrapped in a long-needed embrace, rocking her back and forth.
“Like a river flows surely to the sea… darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be,” she sings quietly against Jude’s hair, and takes a long drag of her joint. Jude tries desperately to shut Cardan out of her memory, but when the the slow, honey smooth voice sings—for I can’t help falling in love with you—she can feel her heart crumble. If her chest trembles, straining to hold back a sob, Vivi doesn’t seem to notice. If Jude squeezes her eyes shut, and if, by chance, tears glide on Vivi’s shoulder and seep through her clothes, Vivi only seems to hug Jude tighter.
Jude allows her sister to hold her through till the song ends and Elvis Presley’s voice fades into silence. She wipes her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Can I try that thing?”
Vivi flashes a grin. “Why not?” she says, and hands over the joint to Jude. She clips it between her teeth and inhales. Going through the paces of her breathing cycle four times, she lets the smoke pass through her lungs until she feels a little different, and then allows Vivi to take the joint back.
“Let’s listen to something else,” Vivi proposes, and walks over to tinker with the CD player. “I just know you’ll love this.”
Jude scrunches her nose. She was feeling warm and relaxed before, and the sensation only seems to expand. It feels as though life has lost its edge, as though a warm, fluffy blanket has been cast around her. It is not similar to faerie fruit which made her overly optimistic and benign, and it isn’t like glamour which empties the brain completely. She doesn’t feel like she’s out of control or particularly vulnerable, and Vivi’s presence probably assists with that. It doesn’t feel like she’s in danger.
She likes it.
“This one is a little more upbeat,” says Vivi with a smile as the next song starts playing. She grabs Jude by her hand and spins her around. As the first words of the song ring out—Hey Jude—a laugh bubbles out of Jude. This song sounds more familiar; she is certain their parents played it before, but it’s a distant enough memory that the lyrics still surprise her.
Hey Jude, don’t make it bad, take a sad song and make it better…
Vivi gives her a wide, bright smile and in that moment Jude can feel Vivi’s love for her. She well and truly wants her sister happy. Even when she acts negligent, or says crude, heartless things, Vivi still holds her dear. Seeing Jude’s lips curl into a ghost of a smile, Vivi laughs and gives her another spin.
And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain, don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.
Vivi mouths the words at her, addressing them to Jude as she looks her in the eye. Jude grimaces, but she can’t deny the rush of joy that comes with being seen. While she was in Elfhame, it did indeed feel like she was carrying the weight of the world.
Vivi trots around the room in a mockery of the whirling, circular dance of the Folk. She executes the moves with surprising accuracy and grace for someone who has refused to attend most revels under the hill, but Jude supposes it’s in her blood to dance like a faerie. It clenches her heart a little, evoking a painful, tender memory of Elfhame—until Vivi breaks her form and begins twerking. Jude can’t hold back a snort, and when Vivi starts backing into her, shaking her butt against her, Jude screams with laughter.
“Na, na, na, na-na-na-naa!” chants Vivi, “HEY JUDE!”
Jude joins her, and they yell the next lines together, inventing new moves as they go, blending the elegant twirl of faerie waltz with more contemporary, human elements, peppered with the occasional twerk and random limb swinging. Vivi is bold and dramatic, she leads the way, while Jude follows her direction with a cheek-splitting smile on her face.
“You know what, Jude?” Vivi says, grabbing her by the shoulders, leaning in. “You know what? Heather is missing out on this! The stupid fucking Faeries are missing out on this! This is our moment and they will never own any part of it! You know what I say to that?”
“Tough fucking luck!” Vivi and Jude shout in unison.