Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When you’re a kid everything seems like the end of the world; the only thing that matters is what people think about you. He was never like that; in fact, I don’t know if he ever really was a kid. Jude Jacob was the most real thing I had ever met; and sitting here, now that I’m twenty-one, I’m ashamed of how I treated him. I was one of those kids; I was on the baseball team, and once I figured out that that made me popular the rest just seemed to fall into place. I wasn’t anybody special until I started doing well on the baseball field when I was thirteen; as soon as I found something to make me special I just took off. I became your typical jock, a meat head with dreams of major league, no desire to go to college, a party boy with plans that went as far as Friday night. Jude and I we were close for a few years before the baseball stuff, and he was genuine and kind; I was just couldn’t handle that kind of honest at that age.

Well, now that I’m older, I know that junior high isn’t the end of the world; but I came pretty damn close, too close. That’s why I’m writing this; it’s time to make things right. I lost track of Jude Jacob when I was fifteen; my parents had divorced, my baseball was the only thing they both tolerated, and I was about to take that little punk I had been and turn him into a class ‘A’ trouble-making jerk. At fifteen I tore my childhood apart and I landed in a boarding school half way across the country. And I haven’t seen Jude since a long time before that.

I’m getting off topic a bit, it must be the pain meds that the doctors have me on; let me explain. Tonight, or maybe it was this morning, I nearly died-the timeline is still a little fuzzy. The doctors haven’t given me the full run down yet, but it hurts like hell and I didn’t see it coming-apparently no one could. But when I came out of the anesthesia I knew that I had made a huge mistake, and it wasn’t going to be easy to fix; there’s a whole lot to the story, and I know I might not be making very much sense right now but I know what I have to do. I have to find Jude Jacob. I have to fix what I broke. Because almost dying, now that’s the end of the world… And I don’t want to face that without him.

Chapter Text

I groaned, the searing pain that licked up my abdomen cutting through the remaining haze of anesthesia, as I was forced back into the conscious world; my eyes felt glued shut, but I forced them open. The room was almost pitch black except for the grainy glow of the television that was bolted to the upper corner of the ceiling. I reached my right hand up to rub my bleary eyes; my muscles felt foreign and stiff, but it was the I.V. stuck in the crook of my arm and the heart monitor clipped to my finger that slowed me to a stop. I stared dumbly at it for a minute before I heard a rustling to my left.

“Connor?” My mother stood up and came closer to the side of my hospital bed, her voice a strained whisper. “Try not to move around too much, you might pop one of your staples out.”

I stare at her numbly, as if the shadows thrown across her face have changed the fact that she’s my mother-not that I’ve seen her very much since I started college. “What…” I croak, my throat dry. “Happened?”

She turned around and a moment later she was stepping even closer with a plastic cup; “Here sweetie, have some water while I go get the nurse.” I gingerly took the cup with my left hand, suddenly aware of how my muscles felt like jello that hadn’t been left in the fridge long enough. When she was sure that I wouldn’t drop it, she walked to the foot of my bed and across the room to the door.

I sipped; the cool water feeling like the most wonderful thing in the world against my dry-as-desert throat. The world was quiet and yet my mid was spinning, howling with questions and screaming with self-judgement. The last thing I remember I had been in my dorm room, it had been late, and I had had a stomach ache that was keeping me up so I had decided to just tackle another business assignment. Part of me was confused and wondering how I had gotten here and what had happened to me. But a bigger part of me, the part that I had pushed down and pretended didn’t exist was whispering to me through the darkness; I had made a mistake, and many more after that, and I had lost the only person who had ever been real.

When my mother returned a few minutes later with two nurses in tow I was quiet; I stayed quiet, still disoriented and slightly drugged, as the nurses performed a battery of tests to check my vitals. They finished and told me the doctor would want to explain everything in the morning-apparently it was very later. They asked me if I wanted anything to help me sleep, but I shook my head; they left, closing the door behind them. My mother returned to my bedside, taking my cup and refilling it.

“Everything’s going to be alright Connor,” she murmured-I couldn’t tell if it was for my comfort or for her own. She turns to hand me the refilled cup. “Drink some more water before your go back to sleep.”

As I sipped more of the cool fluid, my mother continued to chatter in a soft whisper. “Your father’s on his way from Boston, but her couldn’t get a flight till five in the morning.” She was busying herself with straightening my bed clothes. “We’ll know more tomorrow when the doctor talks to us, but I’m sure that it’s just fine.”

When my cup was empty again, I lowered my hand. She was about to swoop in and take it from me, probably to refill it again, but I pulled it out of her reach. “Mom,” I cleared my throat before continuing. “I have to tell you something, and I have to tell you before dad gets here.”

She looked at me, and even in the darkness I could see her hazel eyes widen. I took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the oxygen tube fixed under my nose. “I was in love with Jude when I was thirteen.”

There was a silence that filled the room with an empty feeling, but it only lasted a moment. Then my mother reached up gently to take the empty cup from me, but she didn’t refill it. Instead, she put it aside and came close to my side, took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You should probably get some rest before the doctor arrives,” her voice was warm and far less fluttery than it had been a moment ago.

“Mom I…”

She leaned in, cradling my head under her chin as I heard a small sniffle. “Oh Connor,” she was close to tears, but her voice was warm and calm. “I knew. You don’t have to be scared, no matter what your dad says; you’ll always have me.”

As soon as I felt warm tears in my hair I couldn’t hold back my own; my mother held me as we both cried, for all the distance that this had put between us over the years. She held me until we were both beyond words and the tears had run dry, then she helped me lay back so that I was comfortable enough to sleep again.

How could one mistake have hurt me in so many ways? I had begun to heal in more than one way, and even though my body was stinging with pain, I knew that my soul was on the mend.

Chapter Text

As if the blinding pain wasn’t enough, when seven in the morning rolled around I was blinded by a very different kind of pain, a way that was literally blinding. “Morning Connor,” a loud, far too cheerful, voice bellowed as the curtain of my hospital room was ripped open, searing my corneas. “How are you feeling today?” I groaned, trying to cover my eyes with my hands, but impeded by my attachments; I tried to turn over to escape the brunt of the light, but was immediately winded by the sheer amount of pain coursing through my body. Thankfully, my mother was quick enough that by the time I was gasping for air, once again lying on my back, she had pulled the curtain closed again; I could just make out her glaring at the doctor through the multi-color spots dancing across my vision.

“Let’s see how everything looks,” the doctor continued, oblivious to the fact that my mother was going to claw his eyes out and that I was still breathless from my movements. He reached over and in a single flick of his wrist I was struck dumb as he torn the sheet away from my body. The huge jagged cut down my midriff that was oozing blood both from the cut as well as the staples that were holding me together explained why I hadn’t noticed that I was naked under the blanket; I gasped, humiliation and cold air making my instinct to cover up jump into action, but I fell back immediately. There were two sides to every coin; where I couldn’t feel my skin or muscles due to pain medication, it wasn’t enough to obliterate my sense of pain when I tried to move.

I closed my eyes, hiding from the humiliation as well as the light, trying to control my breathing as I heard the doctor continue to babble. “I know it may not feel like it right now, but this is one of the best suture jobs I’ve ever seen; you’ll have a scar, but it’ll be way prettier than a lot of other scars.” He was talking when I felt him move to the right of my bed and begin gently pressing on the flesh near my operation site.

“So the surgery went well for the most part,” he was talking as if this was no big deal. I’m sorry, he may be a doctor and deal with naked bodies all the time, but my mother hadn’t seen me this naked since I was ten and told her that I didn’t want her in the changing room with me anymore. “There were a few complications, but we were able to correct them well enough.”

My eyes snapped open. “Complications?” I took a deep breath before struggling upright a bit more. “I don’t even know what happened, why don’t we start there; okay?” And for a moment I forced down the humiliation and gave this doctor a hard stare; he wasn’t expecting that, I could tell by the way his fake smile sort of just melted off his face.

The doctor proceeded to tell him the facts; he kept everything calm, his bubbliness had worn off apparently. I had lost consciousness on my way out of the dorm; apparently I knew that stomach aches weren’t supposed to last that long or have that sharp stabbing pain. One of my roommates, Brandon I think, had found me on his way out for an early morning run; he’d rushed me to the emergency room, called my mom and dad, and then left for his first class. I remained unconscious in the ER for most of the day while the doctors ran tests; by the time my mother arrived in the early evening they had a guess as to what was wrong.

“My appendix burst?” I echo as the doctor takes a breath in between sentences.

“Well, actually that happened later on; see, your body was in distress because it had this huge amount of tissue that was dying, but what really happened was kind of extraordinary.” I made a face because I could hear the glee in his voice; he went back to the facts. “Somehow your already inflamed appendix got twisted; half of it was simply infected and going to burst like an average case of appendicitis while the other half was filling both with infection as well as blood that was dying. We suspected from your blood work that it was appendicitis, but from scans and ultrasounds we weren’t sure what we were dealing with due to the abnormal shape.”

That’s when it occurred to me; “Was that the complication then? That you were guessing?” There was a sharp bite to my words as I looked down at the harsh red of the two sides of my once smooth skin.

The doctor shook his head sadly. “No, we were prepared for everything, that’s why we were able to handle the complications that did arise. When we found the problem we began the extraction process, but just as we were beginning both hemispheres of the appendix burst. It took us a long time to clean up the mess of infection and tissues, but that wasn’t the end; we hadn’t noticed in all the chaos that the side that had pooled with blood had begun to leak into your blood stream and collect in a gap between the folds in your intestine. We were forced to scrape some necrotic tissue before cleaning the area and then suturing you up.”

“So what you’re saying is that my body was rotting from the inside?” I quirked an eyebrow at the doctor.

“Well I guess you could say that, but really it was just an abnormal situation with a very common procedure.” He looked at me as if he was wondering if I had used the morphine pump a few too many times. He continued. “Look, everything turned out alright in the end, there’s no reason to get too upset; those complications are behind you and your recovery will be just like every other case of appendicitis.”

I would be stuck in the hospital for at least four days; the doctor explained that I needed to fulfill everything on the “check out-check list”, which meant I had to be able to walk on my own, manage my pain, and I would need to get my catheter removed and be able to control my bladder and bowels without medical assistance (just another thing that I had failed to notice as it was below my waist). I would have to make post-op appointments to follow up with my surgeon as well as my own doctor to make sure that no residual infections popped up and to make sure my surgery site healed up as well as to have the staples removed as I healed. Apparently my recovery would take over six months, not that I really cared.

“My associates and I will be monitoring your recovery closely while you’re still here, so if any new developments come up, we’ll deal with them quickly and efficiently, but do you have any questions now?” I was tired; tired of the doctor, tired of the pain, tired of thinking about all the parts of my life that were ruined that didn’t matter anymore. I shook my head silently, the doctor nodded at me and then smiled at my mother before leaving.

My mother fussed over my sheets for a while before she helped me adjust the bed so that I could sit up without having to actually move. “You look like you’re miles away sweetie,” she said as she poured me another cup of ice water. “Do you want to talk some more?” She handed me the cup and continued busying herself around my hospital room in the early morning light.

I watched her for a moment; her blonde hair twisted up into a big hair clip, her faded blue jeans with the paint stains, and the T-shirt that was stretched out and almost falling off one of her shoulders. She moved the hospital tray with the water pitcher on it closer so that I could put my cup down when I was finished and then finally pulled her hospital chair closer to my bedside to sit down again. She placed her hand on mine as it rested on the bed, bringing me back to the reality that I had to face. “I’m going to have
to withdraw from classes before I lose my tuition,” I mumble vacantly.

My mother squeezed my hand. “Sweetheart,” she waited for me to focus my eyes on her. “Your dad texted me, and he should be here in forty minutes or so.”

I felt my stomach seize up a bit. “He’s going to be so upset.” It was just something I had accepted about my father; Adam Stevens wanted a perfect son, and I had failed him on so many levels, this would just be another.

My mom sighed, running her thumb over the back of my hand. “I know you’re dad’s never been big on the whole emotional support part of parenthood, but I know that you haven’t been in contact with him all that much the last couple of years.” I felt my brow scrunch in confusion. “You know,” she chuckled; “There are few things more motivating for parents to communicate that their concern for their child. When your father and I stopped getting letters and phone calls after your first semester we started talking more; he’s been worried about you, and he’s been taking some advice from me.” My mouth fell open. She laughed out right; “I know; it’s time to buy a lottery ticket.”

I chuckled softly, afraid to jostle my stapled abdomen. “I’ll talk to him when he gets here, but now that you mention it, could you do me a favor?”

My mom smiled and nodded. “There’s no way I’ll be able to finish this semester, and thinking about it over and over again is just driving me crazy; can you call the college and deal with that?” Then I blushed, embarrassed that I couldn’t just do this myself; but I knew I had to put something into motion now or I’d never be able to focus on my poor marred body. “And would you mind looking up Lena and Stef so I can call them when I’m a little more awake?”

She beamed, rubbing my hand happily. “No problem sweetie; you feeling sleepy?”

I nod, but then I grimace at the sharp pain in my lower belly. “Think I’ve got enough time for a nap before breakfast?” She nodded again. “Think it’s okay if I use the morphine?”

“You need to rest in order for your body to heal, and you heard the doctor-you need to learn to manage the pain.” I nodded and picked up the button for the morphine pump. I smiled at my mom one last time; “sweet dreams sweetie.”

The pain meds kicked in pretty quickly and I drifted off without another word. Recovery was going to take a long time, even more than the doctors estimated; I had a cut going from my pelvis to my belly button, that wasn’t something that was just going to heal quickly. My mom was on my side though, at least for now; I wondered and worried that she would stick with me even after I broke it to her that I was already working on a plan. A plan that included things that my father and mother might fight me on, but I knew that I couldn’t go back to the way things had been; I wasn’t the same person I was yesterday. Things were different now, and I didn’t want to go back to a world where I wasn’t real. I wanted a real life, with real love, with a real person; I wanted Jude, I just needed to hold out hope that he might still want me when I found him.

Chapter Text

I woke up, disoriented and groggy, a few hours later and to the warm smell of brown sugar and the floral scent of orange. As I blinked, my eyes unable to focus properly for a moment, I realized that someone must have delivered recently because there was still steam coming off of the oatmeal sitting in front of me. I yawned, but was very careful not to stretch; the pain meds were helpful, but not all pain could be masked.

“Connor?” A rough hand squeezed mine as I looked over at the chair that had most recently been occupied by my mother. My father was there, his eyes sunken and dark, but also watery. “How are you feeling son?”

I blinked some more before shaking my head to clear away the rest of the morphine drowsiness. “Dad,” I clear my throat. “When did you get here?” Then I felt my stomach gurgle. “Never mind, better question; when did breakfast get here?” We both smiled.

“Here, let me help you with that tray.” My dad pulled the tray closer so I was able to reach everything on the breakfast plate.

I grabbed the spoon and tentatively tasted a spoonful of the oatmeal; I groaned happily when I tasted brown sugar and maple on my tongue. “Good?” My dad asked chuckling as I took another huge spoonful and stuck it in my mouth. I nodded happily; I had no idea when the last time I ate was, but this was the best thing I had tasted.

I continued to savor my breakfast. “So your mom went down to the cafeteria to grab a bite and make some phone calls;” I looked at my dad as my spoon dangled from my mouth, but just smiled and nodded. “She said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

I finished up my oatmeal, leaving the rest of my breakfast for after my little discussion with my dad; there was a fruit cup, orange juice, and toast and jam. I swallowed my last spoonful and then cleared my throat. “Yeah,” I fisted my idle hand in the bed linens so I wouldn’t fidget. “She and I talked a little when I woke up after the surgery and I… I need to be honest with you.” I looked at my dad expecting to see him frowning with a furrow in his forehead; instead he looked somber, but nodded, giving me time to speak.

Maybe mom was right, maybe he was different; he’d never really given me a chance to explain anything, ever. “Well, do you remember when I was like thirteen and I was still at Anchor Beach, before baseball and all that shit I got into?” He nodded, so I took a breath and continued. “Do you remember the boy I used to hang out with, the one you didn’t like me hanging out with for a while-you wanted me to focus more on baseball?”

My father looked at me with sadness in his eyes. “Jude,” he breathed and sat back a little in the chair, but did not let go of my hand.

I swallow thickly. “I woke up missing him dad, like really missing him; like the hole in me that they had cut was where he was supposed to be and I was just aching for him.” I blushed and looked down at my lap huffing out a laugh, and he still didn’t interrupt me. “I know it sounds stupid dad, and I know this isn’t what you wanted for your only son, but I just don’t want you to hate me when I say this.”

I looked up, finding his eyes, and took a breath; “Dad, when I was thirteen I fell in love with Jude, but then everything got ruined. Because I ruined it…” Suddenly I was sniffling, barely holding back the tears. “I ruined my own life and I don’t even know what happened to him; I’m tired of living a half a life dad, and the last time I remember feeling alive was when I was with him.”

I started to whimper, staving off a torrent of sobs, and closed my eyes; if my dad was going to blow up at me, then I couldn’t watch it happen right now while my heart was already breaking. Instead of the anger that I had expected, in complete silence, my father stood up and leaned over to scoop me into a hug; it was awkward, but soothing. “I’m sorry for the anxiety that this caused you Connor; I never wanted to be the cause of such discomfort for you, I hope you know that now.”

Now that my hands were free I clutched the arm he had wrapped around me and turned my head into his shoulder to muffle the sobs. “Oh Connor, it’s okay; it’s all going to be okay.” I sob again, this time relief starting to trickle in. “Let it out son; we’ll fix this together, I promise.”

He let me cry on him until my mom returned to the room ten minutes later. “Everything okay guys?” She asked quietly as she closed the door behind her.

My dad released his grip on me, cradled my face for a moment; we exchanged watery smiles before he took a step back to turn towards mom. “I think we’re better than we’ve been in years. How did the phone calls go?”

Dad scooted the chair back and sat down so mom could stand by my bedside. “Well, the school stuff is done for now; the only thing left to do is to figure out the long term plan. If you need to take more time off we’ll need to cancel your student housing and move your stuff out, but we’ll deal with that once you’ve recovered a little.” The smile on her face faded a tab before she continued. “About the favor you asked me to look into…”

I cleared my throat before interrupting her; “Dad knows about Jude. We were just talking about it before you came in.”

There was a fleeting grin on her face. “I’m glad things went well.” Then she sighed heavily. “Unfortunately it might be a little more difficult to get ahold of Lena and Stef; I called the number I had from all those years ago, but it seems that they moved quite a few years ago. I’ll make some more calls a little later, but I promise that I will not stop until I find a way to contact them; don’t worry sweetheart,” she placed a hand on my shoulder. “This is just the beginning.”

I hummed, thinking of where the Fosters might have moved and why; when I came out of my thoughts my mom had found a seat on the window ledge near my dad and they were talking quietly, and happily, which was surprising and refreshing. While they talked I pulled my breakfast back towards me and resumed munching and sipping; who knew food could be so good, or that it would make me feel so content. Things were feeling surreal and no matter how long I was awake, I wasn’t really sure if it was real or if the medication was affecting my ability to process things.

As I finished my meal I couldn’t help but imagine the Jude that I had known, the quiet boy with chocolate eyes and wild brown hair who was always just himself. If I had changed this much over these long years without him, I couldn’t even imagine how much he had changed; he would be twenty-one as well, maybe in his junior year of college like I was or perhaps he had chosen to take a different path. No matter what he had chosen to do with his life, I hoped that he was still the Jude that I had known.

“You look so lost Connor,” my dad looked genuinely concerned when I glanced over at him. “You okay there son?”

If I hadn’t cried my eyes out just a half hour ago, I probably would have shed a tear; as it was, my voice wavered when I spoke. “I just miss him; I miss the Jude I knew when I thirteen, but I miss him now. I feel so close to losing my mind with wanting to see him, but I don’t even know what I would say yet.”

My eyes felt dry and tired, and it’s hard to keep them open. “I think I’ll try to sleep some more; everything is just so out of control.” They stayed quiet as I settled back against my pillow. “Thanks for being here, both of you.” I mumble an “I love you” before my eyes just drift closed and don’t reopen.

Chapter Text

The next few days went by in a blur of emotions and medications; I was either exhausted beyond measure or fidgeting to get out, but either way I was forced to go at my body’s pace. My mom and dad took turns staying with me while the other was off getting something to eat or just stretch their legs; my job was to work on the check list the doctor had given me, the sooner I could leave, the sooner I would begin to find Jude. But it wasn’t as easy as the doctor seemed to think, and nothing about it felt like average appendectomy pain; maybe he’d just never had his bowels sliced into, so he couldn’t know.

It was early on the second morning of my hospital stay when a male nurse came into my room; “It’s time to get you back on your feet.” He was cheerful, but not in the way the doctor had been; I wasn’t overcome by the urge to smack the smile off his face, and he seemed to get that I was still dealing with the fog of pain medications. “See, the thing is, it may sound counterproductive to be up and walking around when you’ve got a two foot gash in your abdomen, but trust me you’ll heal a lot faster once you get up and start the blood flowing to that area. Plus, if you don’t get up and walk around we’ll have to give you blood thinners to prevent clots, and that’s just another needle we want to avoid.” As he explained this all to me, I watched him arrange a mobile device; my IV, my morphine pump, and my catheter bag were all transferred onto it before he came over to my side.

“I forgot to introduce myself,” he smiled as he extended a hand. “I’m Cody.” I shook his hand gently, offered a smile in return, but didn’t really know what to say. “What I’m going to have you do after I lower the safety rail is to slide yourself until you think you can pivot your legs over the side here.” Thank God that I’d been dressed in a hospital gown after that first morning otherwise this would have been even more humiliating.

Cody snapped the safety railing down and put a hand on my shoulder as I took a deep breath. “Take your time; we’ve got nowhere to be.”

Thankfully Cody was true to his word, even though I couldn’t help feel like a turtle that had been tipped onto its back; it took me nearly forty minutes to get my legs in a position so they could edge off the side of the bed, and for someone who was a star athlete this was winding me. When I managed to pivot, my legs slide towards the floor and my torso remained flat against the bed. “Alright, we’re almost there,” I heard Cody say. I couldn’t see him since he was standing in front of me, but I knew what he was going to ask me next. “You ready to stand up? You’re going to feel like you’ve never felt gravity before so there’s going to be dizziness. I want you to grab hold of the metal pole of your IV cart and use that to ground yourself till you feel a little better.”

I can’t even imagine walking, let alone standing, when my torso and all my stomach muscles had been sliced through just a day earlier. But when he asked me “Are you ready?” I nodded and I grabbed the hand that he offered me.

It was like nothing I had ever felt before; it was like being under water and then being in an earthquake and then flying and crash landing on the moon, all at the same time. And then there was the pain; I knew it would hurt, but I felt as if all of my staples had popped out and my stomach had burst open and was being torn out of my body. Once I was on my feet though, Cody brought the IV cart closer and transferred my death grip from his forearm to the metal pole.

“Take your time,” he soothed. “Take deep breaths Connor; in through your nose, out through your mouth. You did it, if you do nothing else today you still made a huge leap in your recovery.” He may have been right, I don’t know because he was the one with medical knowledge; but, it didn’t feel like that big of an accomplishment. I stood there, with Cody monitoring me and patting my back occasionally, for god-knows-how-long.

“What’s next?” I breathe when the pain isn’t so bad and my body doesn’t feel like it’s going to float away at any moment.

Cody gives me a once over before apparently deciding that I’m up for the challenge. “Let’s take a little walk down the hallway; I’ll show you a really nice window, then we’ll come back so you can have lunch.” I guess I really had taken my time if it was almost time for lunch.

Cody made sure not to help me as he stayed by my side and we walked, or should I say shuffled, out of my hospital room. The window was just down the hall, and yet those ten feet felt like ten miles as I breathed heavily along the journey. We looked out the window for a few minutes, and then Cody monitored me as I shuffled back to my room dragging my IV cart along with me as my support.

The goal was to be able to walk the entire ward in a loop as many times as I could, but that would take time. So, that was my job for the next two days; I would sleep and eat and rest, but then I would get mom or dad to come with me for as long as I could stand it; and Cody was right, after the first day, when I thought that I might die every single time I tried to get back out of that bed, I felt a little bit better. So now there was something new to focus on, something that I could control; and it helped.

Until that third night; I was feeling so much better, especially since I was comparing my current state to the near-death state that I had been in only a few days ago. Everything was still a little wonky because I still needed to use the morphine pump to manage my pain; but, I was almost done with my check list and I would be able to go home soon. Mom was keeping me company until I fell asleep and dad had gone to get a cup of coffee from the lounge around the corner; I had already taken the medications from the nurse and they’d taken my nightly vital readings and it was dark inside my room except for the black and white television show that was on the TV. So why was I suddenly sweating?

And why did it feel like my chest had a huge weight on it?

And why was I breathing like that? Was that normal?

And, oh god, was I having a heart attack? I was having a heart attack. I was going to die.

“Connor,” my mother yelped as she rushed towards me. “What’s…”

“Get the nurse…” I gasped as I hyperventilated. “I’m… I’m having a heart… attack.”

She was gone, her head out the door, hollering for a nurse, before I could finish getting it out. I closed my eyes, praying that it was just a nightmare, trying to get my breathing under control-cause seriously, were people supposed to breathe like that? No.

I didn’t even comprehend my mother or the nurse who was rechecking my vitals. I just focused on my breathing; I kept repeating the phrase “Don’t die” over and over again in my head. And then it all went numb except for my heart. “Your vitals are the same as they were an hour ago,” did this nurse not know what it felt like to have a heart attack; something was very wrong, my skin felt tingly and my heart was beating too loudly.

I began to babble; trying to tell her that I had felt a pain in my chest and I couldn’t breathe right, and weren’t those signs of a heart attack. “It sounds like you had a panic attack,” like this was just something that happened and I wasn’t really dying. “It’s passed right; you don’t feel and pressure on your chest any more do you?” I shook my head, still dazed.

“But,” my voice is small. “I feel like I just ran a mile and drank an espresso. That can’t be normal.”

The nurse smiled as she stepped away from my bed. “Just try to get some rest.” And then she was gone and my mom was standing there, holding my hand. Mom stayed up and talked with me for a while, but she was tired so I sent her to go find dad and get some rest.

By the time they returned I had positioned myself so that I was lying back; but I wasn’t sleeping, not after that. They fell asleep in the chairs by my bed, snoring softly, and I just lay there thinking. It was like that panic attack had chased off all the fog from the pain meds and it hit me all at once; I had had surgery, major life-threatening surgery, and my mom and dad had come all the way here to be with me. And they were talking, even getting along. And I was… a mess. Yeah, I knew what I wanted, and I knew who I wanted, but in the past three days I had acted like a completely different person; maybe that was the drugs, maybe that was nearly dying, whatever it was I think I actually liked this new person I was becoming. If you considered it changing; maybe I wasn’t changing so much as discovering. God, no wonder so many people got addicted to pain meds; this stuff was making my head all wonky. But maybe it was helping. My head had been so far up my butt; maybe it needed to be jostled a bit.

Chapter Text

I had been thirteen when Jude had come to Anchor Beach; loving him had come as easy as breathing, and it frightened me. He may have been quiet, even reserved, but he had always been the one to show me what was what. I always wondered how someone who was the same age as me could know so much about the world; I hadn’t even figured out how to talk to girls, and Jude was talking about how labels could tear a person apart. He amazed me in the most profound ways; but, I was still only thirteen. I remember when I felt like I might have the maturity to actually be with him, to come out to my mom and dad, to hold his hand in public, to take that leap of faith.

I had decided to take that leap when we went on a class camping trip; I thought I might be able to turn it into some sort of romantic first date. I was so naïve, but so hopeful. We had been in the woods all day, talking about keystone species and discussing the difference in the trees, and Jude was nearly dead on his feet. It was twilight when they we were told to set up our tents; and even though Jude insisted on helping, he mostly ended up assisting me. Once the tent was up, I threw all of our stuff inside and ushered Jude inside; the sooner we were out of view, the better it would be. I always felt better when it was just Jude and I.

“I never knew camping would be so much work;” Jude chuckled as he unfurled his sleeping bag and arranged it how he wanted it.

I hummed, thinking about how to bring up my feelings without abruptly startling Jude; I knew I had to do this right, but I had no idea what I was doing. I unrolled my sleeping bag, barely a foot from his, and I sent a silent prayer to the camping gods thanking them for making tents so small. “Head to toe?” I asked quietly, knowing that Jude should be in charge.

He chuckled again, this time as he unzipped his duffle bag. “Since when have we ever done heat to toe Connor?” I huffed out a low laugh too and sat cross-legged on my sleeping bag. I watched silently as Jude pulled out his favorite soft pajamas-the soft blue shirt and matching soft flannel bottoms. He caught me staring; I blushed and looked down at my fingers that were playing with the zipper of my sleeping bag. “You gonna get changed Connor?” He asked softly?

I nodded, my head still hanging down. “Yeah, then I guess we should go to sleep.”

“I never thought I would say this,” Jude said as he shuffled around, taking his shirt off or whatever. “But if tomorrow is anything like today, then I’m looking forward to going to sleep early.”

I kept my head down as I reached for my duffle bag, only humming in response. I grabbed my own pajamas and turned so my back was to Jude; I changed into my pajamas, but my mind was on Jude. He was tired, that much was obvious; I was on the verge of chickening out, to let it go and grin and bear it. But Jude could read my like a book. “Okay,” Jude sighed as I turned back, now dressed for bed, and sat on my sleeping bag. “Spit it out. You’ve been in your head all day Connor.” I opened my mouth to deny it, but Jude narrowed his eyes at me and I snapped it shut. “What’s going on?”

He was giving me an opening, and being thirteen, I was not going to waste it; however, also being thirteen, I was going to humiliate myself. I cringe at the memory just a bit, wishing I had been less spastic.

One moment, I was staring into Jude’s warm brown eyes-he looked so concerned, waiting for me to answer him. The next moment I was practically on top of him; I had slide right up to him and leaned so far over that I was nearly leaning him back onto his pillow, and my lips had found the corner of his mouth and latched on. Oh, but I wasn’t done yet; in my mind, this was perhaps the most romantic moment I was ever going to get to experience, so I was going to make it as memorable as possible. One hand was bracing myself, palm flat on the floor of the tent, and the other I slid over Jude’s thigh and under his night shirt to rest on his hip bone. The entire time, I was sucking and tonguing (possibly also drooling) on the tender lips that I had dreamt about so many times before this; in reality it was clumsy and messy and erratic.

What finally broke the spell, the one that told me I was the hottest thing to ever happen and that Jude would reciprocate by sucking on my bottom lip any moment, was shattered by a suddenly very squirmy Jude who was pushing himself away from me across the tent floor. His eyes were wide and his lips were wet and red; and I felt like I should run away, but I was frozen in fear. “Connor?” He tried to get me to focus with a firm tone, but my heart was plummeting. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see that fear mirrored in his eyes.

I just tried to breathe, that was all I could do. “Connor,” he said more gently. “What was that?”

I couldn’t take it; at thirteen, my world was crashing down in a storm of humiliation. I flopped back, lying flat on my back before I opened my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at the friend who probably wouldn’t be my friend in the morning-if he even wanted to sleep in the same tent as me anymore. “I’ve been thinking about that all day; that’s why I’ve been so far away.” My voice is a whisper, and still, it cracks into a thousand shards as I feel my eyes sting.

I hear Jude rustle around before I feel him lie on his back next to me; I can feel the warmth from him as I feel him pressed against my right side from shoulder to toes. “Connor, I’m still here. Okay? Please don’t be upset; you know I can’t stand to see you hurting.”

I catch him watching me out of the corner of my eye, his chocolate brown waves messed up and his nose pointed in my direction so I can see his freckles. “I shouldn’t have done that; I just thought that… Well, we’ve been through a lot this year, together, and I thought maybe… I know it meant a lot to me.” I take a deep breath to try to get my thoughts together. “I should have just told you instead of jumping on you, that was wrong; but, you know what?” I finally tilted my head towards him. “I’m glad you know, even if you don’t feel the same, because now I have someone to talk to about it with. Right?” We both knew what I was asking; I wanted to know that this wouldn’t mess up our friendship, that he wouldn’t cut me out, that we were still in it together. I knew I sounded desperate, and I was; I needed Jude on so many levels, and if I lost him… I didn’t even want to think about it.

I was just hoping to keep my friend; I had let go of the idea of Jude seeing me the same way I was seeing him. So when Jude responded by leaning up on his elbow and stretching his neck in order to lean down and press a soft kiss to my lips, I thought maybe I was dying of heat stroke. And I don’t know how, but Jude knew what he was doing, at least more than I had. His lips slowly opened in order to take my bottom lip, but he didn’t suck or tongue as I had; he kissed me as if time had stopped. When he pulled away from my mouth, he put his other hand against my cheek and his thumb ran circles over my skin. “We’ll get through this together.”

I woke up with a start, still in my hospital bed, still in pain, and still without Jude. But my brain had dragged up that memory, after the most terrifying moment in my life; maybe it was encouragement. Maybe the universe wanted me to see Jude again, to kiss him again, and to thank him for being there even though I was horrible. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains; mom and dad were still asleep. Today, if all went according to plan, I would be going home; mom’s house was the closest, and even though it was a long drive I was looking forward to being somewhere a little more comfortable. The verdict was in: hospitals sucked, and I never wanted to have to be in one again.

Chapter Text

I was discharged the next day by one and the relief I felt was like a drowning man finally breaking the surface; as the nurse wheeled me through the hospital, it was like the layers of walls were being removed until I was finally reunited with the fresh air they had been keeping me from. My mom helped me out of the wheel chair and into her waiting car. “Here sweetie,” she pulled a pillow out from the back of the car. “The doctor said to put this against your suture, between you and the seatbelt, in case of sudden stops.” I held the pillow to my abdomen while my mom helped me situate the belt so it wouldn’t rub.

My parents had made arrangements; my mother’s house was closer, and bigger, so we were all headed there from the hospital. My father would follow us in his rental car. They had talked to my college and everyone was in agreement that once I was stronger I could decide what my next step with school would be; I still hadn’t told my parents about my plan, partly because I was still figuring it out but mostly because if I was going to drop out of college then I wanted to have somewhere to go. And that meant find out where Jude was.

We had been on the road for half an hour and I think my mom was getting worried about my brooding silence. “So, I did a little more digging; I didn’t want to say anything until I had something to tell you, but I think I cracked a piece of the puzzle last night.”

I look at her, suddenly very attentive. She smiled before laughing at me; I didn’t mind, she said she had news. “Go on,” I say with a chuckle. “You know you have my full attention now.”

Her smile turned into a smirk and she sighed happily as we soared along the highway. “Just let me savor it okay; you’ve gone through a lot the past couple of days, let me enjoy your smile now that it’s back.”

I laugh, wincing at the pain in my stomach. I think that made her change her mind about gloating. “Okay, okay. So the Fosters moved only a few years ago, but they moved across state lines which made it a little harder. Eventually I managed to piece it all together; as you might know, Jude was the youngest of Fosters’ family, but once he was off to college it appears that Lena and Stef were able to bounce around more freely. From what I heard it sounded as if both Callie and Brandon attended colleges around New York; I assume this had something to do with Lena and Stef purchasing an apartment there two years ago.”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out; New York, I couldn’t imagine Jude is a place more bustling than San Diego. My mom’s boisterous laughter brought me back. “I don’t know where Jude is, in case that was your next question. But, I do have this.” And with one hand she deftly dipped into her purse and produced a piece of paper with a flourish. She waved it back and forth for me to stare at as she giggled.

I took it from her, trying not to rip it from her hand too eagerly. I stared at the phone number scrawled across it in my mother’s careful script. “Go ahead; I know you’re dying to. You can use my cell.”

I take a moment to smile at her, because that’s all I can manage at the moment. “It is okay sweetie, I love you too.” My mom handled me her cell phone and then turned her attention back to the road. I knew she was trying to give me the illusion of privacy, but I could also see the way her lips were turned up.

I quickly set to dialing the number, careful to double check it before hitting the call button, and then I held my breath. At the first ring, my eyes closed and I thought that there was no chance that either of them would pick up; but after the third ring, there was a click.

“Hello?”

I smiled; “Lena, Lena Adams-Foster?”

“Yes,” I could hear the apprehension. “Who is this? The area code…”

I clear my throat. “This is Connor Stevens. Do you remember me from all those years ago?”

There was a long silence and I thought I heard some whispering. “Of course I remember you.” That would explain the cool detachment of her voice now; they only remembered me as the Connor who broke Jude’s heart probably. “I’m surprised that you have our phone number, but I hope you’re doing well Connor.”

I could hear her trying to lead the conversation to an easy end. “Actually Mrs. Adams-Foster I just got out of the hospital.” There was an audible gasp; I know it’s wrong to manipulate people, but I had to get her to understand. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things and I would really like to get back in contact with Jude. I was wondering if you might be able to give me his phone number, email address, anything.”

I waited, there was more faint whispering, and then a different voice came on the line. “Connor,” Stef’s voice was every bit as sharp as I remembered it. “This is Stef; Lena had to go for a bit, but I wanted to talk to you. I hope you don’t mind.”

I was about to shake my head when I realized she wouldn’t be able to see it. “That’s fine,” I manage. She’d always intimidated me, apparently even as a twenty-one year old the habit never died.

“You can’t just do this Connor, not without explaining yourself; Lena said something about you getting out of the hospital, let’s start with that.” As always, Stef was straight to the point.

“I almost died,” my voice was hushed, not because I thought my mother would contradict me but because even saying those words still made me want to cry.

There was a heavy sigh on the other side of the phone. “Don’t be so dramatic Connor; what happened exactly? Did you tear your ACL? Or did you binge drink yourself into a trip to the ER?” There was a venom in her words that I never expected even out of Stef.

I took a deep breath before speaking next, trying to keep the tears from falling. “I collapsed and one of my dorm mates brought me to the hospital. I had complications during an emergency appendectomy. I spent four days thinking about your son and how much I hurt him; four days trying to figure out how I could make things better, and still I feel as if there’s a huge hole in my gut that I created myself nearly seven years ago.” I sniffled and managed to glance over at my mom who was giving me a concerned smile; I knew that if she wasn’t driving she would have snatched that phone out of my hands and given Stef a piece of her mind.

There was a pregnant pause. “I’m sorry Connor that sounds like a horrible ordeal.” Her voice had lost the venom but I could still hear ice in her words. “But that doesn’t mean that you can just show up in Jude’s life again and shake up the life he has now.”

Before she can continue I make my last effort to sway her. “Mrs. Adams-Foster if you could just give me one more minute, please, then you can finish telling me that you won’t give me Jude’s number.” When I didn’t hear anything I continued. “Your son was the best thing about my childhood; he was real, and honest, and actually cared about things. I don’t know why I did what I did, but I do know what I didn’t do. When I was thirteen your son loved me and I was selfish, I wasn’t mature enough to know what love was. But, I loved him too; and I want to be able to tell him that he was right, that loving him would have been better than all of the trouble I went through to pretend that I wasn’t already.” I was coming to the end of my minute. “I loved him then and didn’t know how to show it, I’d like to believe I’m different now.”

I listened to the breathing on the phone line. “I tell you what,” she said after a long time. “Why don’t you give me your cell number and if Jude wants to he can contact you. What do you say?”

I accepted eagerly and gave her my number on the spot. “I can’t promise anything Connor,” her voice sounded somber.

“I know, but thank you for giving me a chance.” We said our good-byes and I hung up the line.

My mother was looking at me expectantly. “I guess it’s up to the universe now,” I said as I slid her phone back into her purse. “She said she would pass it along to Jude and that it would be up to him.” I slumped back into the car seat. I chuckled, my body suddenly feeling heavy with relief. “Do you think Jude is going to college in New York too? He never seemed like much for the city; he used to love the beach, but really enjoyed it when it was quiet or we were alone.”

My mom hummed, but it lacked the energy from before my phone call to Stef. “What mom?’ I ask as I listen to the buzz of the cars outside my window zipping by.

“I’m just worried about you baby;” I turn my head towards her, my brow pinched together. “Just remember that while you’ve been changing and living your life, so has Jude.”

It was my turn to hum; I didn’t want my bubble of hope to be burst so quickly, even if my mom was acting on her motherly instincts. I turned on the radio and hunched down in my seat. “How long till we get to your house?” I ask as I yawn.

“You sleepy, kid?” She smiles again as my eyes start drifting closed. I hear her chuckle next, but I don’t bother opening my eyes. “We’ve got plenty of time for you to take a nap; I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”

Oh, if only she knew. I wished all my dreams could be of Jude; then or now, Jude would always make my dreams good. I fell asleep with my head leaning against the window, sunlight warming my face, and the thought that Jude might possibly call me encouraging me to keep myself positive.

Chapter Text

I woke up just as mom was pulling into her driveway, the bumps jostling my head. I blink a lot, trying to get my eyes to focus; I didn’t think L.A. could be this green. I hadn’t really bothered to come and check out my mom’s house; she bounced around the city for a while before finding this place, she had been telling me about it in the hospital. And let me tell you, she underplayed it. It wasn’t in the heart of the city, in fact, I didn’t even know which city we were in; but it was nestled into the hillside, huge trees canopied over most of it, and you couldn’t even see the houses on either side.

“Wow mom,” I yawned as she pulled into the garage and put the car in park. “I didn’t expect your house to remind me so much of an English cottage.”

She smiled and got out of the car. I unbuckled myself, but I was stiff and still in pain, so when she came around to my door I let her help me out of the car. “There’s a room on the first floor I thought would be good, that way you don’t have to worry about the stairs every night.” That’s right, the trees hid the fact that mom’s house was two stories.

“Dad and I can get your room set up while you eat something and rest a bit; sound good?” She grabbed my bag of stuff that the hospital had kept for me until I could go home and we walked into the house. As we were getting into the kitchen we heard my dad’s car pull into the driveway. “He’ll be in in a minute,” she said casually as she helped me settle into a chair in the kitchen. “What do you feel like for lunch?”

Now that I was starting to come out of the fog of hospitals and medication, I was hit by the peculiarity of the situation. I sat at the kitchen table and watched as my mom busied herself making hamburgers for lunch, but eventually I just had to say something. I could hear dad moving around in the other rooms. “Um, mom?” I can see her squishing the ground hamburger into patties.

She looks up from what she’s doing with a smile. “Yeah?” and then it’s like a lightbulb goes off or something. “You know, I could use some help. Want to slice up the tomato and leaf the lettuce?” I nod and get up. I need to keep moving, even if it’s only little things here and there, and she knows that keeping me busy is a good way to keep me talking.

“So, is dad like staying here?” I ask as I maneuver back to the table with a knife, a cutting mat, and a tomato.

She sighs, but I swear it sounds like a giggle. “Your dad and I have come to an agreement…” I look at her as I slice into the tomato; she’s still not really making any sense.

“Okay, fine, just give me a minute.” She huffs. I continue slicing the tomato as I hear her start the stove. By the time I’ve finished she’s putting the burgers into the pan; as the meat hisses and sizzles she wipes off her hands and comes to sit in front of me at the table

“I don’t want to spring too much on you at once, so you just give me a sign if you want me to slow down or stop, okay?” She’s got her serious face on, so I nod and let her continue. “While you were in the hospital your dad and I came up with a plan; you know, just so that things didn’t completely fall apart when you came home. I know you’re taking time off from school to heal up, so we don’t need to worry about that for another few months, but you’ve got to keep on top of things while you’re recovering. Of course, we both understand that you’ll probably want to spend a lot time looking for Jude and what not; but we’ve agreed that until you’re able to get around we’re going to put our differences aside and be here for you together.”

I take all this in for a moment, then decide I may as well at least tell mom about my half-baked plan while we were getting confessional about secret agreements. “I have some plans of my own, not quite as fully formed as yours seem, but I’d like to put them out there.” It comes out feeble and unconfident.

“Of course,” she takes my hand. “Tell me what you were thinking.”

I take a breath. “I’m leaning towards not going back to school; I need to remember what I wanted to get out of college before I go back, and I’m not sure I know what I want anymore. And I know that you and dad helped me with paying for this school so I know you’re going to be mad; but, please, just remember that I’m just thinking about it, like you said we still have months before I have to make the final decision.” She doesn’t seem phased so I continue. “I was kind of hoping that when I’m a little stronger I might be able to work with you for a bit, like you said to keep me busy and something to do other than think about Jude all the time. Plus, there’s all the doctors’ appointments that I have to go to that will keep me on my toes.” I smile and squeeze her hand.

“I like the idea of you working with me,” she says quietly. “And I’m glad you’re staying so open-minded about all of this. You know, even though we make plans, there’s bound to be some detours. I think we’ve got enough to go on for now. Don’t you think?”

I sighed because there was still something bothering me. “I’m still not sure how this thing is going to work with you and dad; I mean, you split up for a reason, several of them if I remember right. I don’t want either of you to be unhappy or uncomfortable on my behalf.” I meet her eyes, but their strong as ever.

“Connor,” her voice reminds me of when I was a child and she used to scold me. “Your father and I agree on very little in this world, but you are the thing we agree about the most; we both want to be here to help you recover.” She smiled and then slowly got up from the table. “We weren’t always there for you when you were growing up Connor, but we’re here for you now. Whatever life you decide, we’re going to help you put it back together.” She goes back to the stove to flip the burgers and I sit there at the table.

I wasn’t allowed to do very much the rest of the day; I went on a short walk around the house, took some time going up stairs to look around, but all-in-all I mostly sat on the couch in the den and watched television while I listened to my mom and dad fix up my room. I had never in my life had this much free time; I was both exhausted as well as bored. Soon enough though, the light began to fade and I was taking my nighttime meds.

“We fixed it up so that you can lie on your side without too much pain on your sutures,” my mom said as she walked me into my new room. “See, we built you a pillow fort basically so all your weight can roll onto the pillows and not so much your front or your back.” The bed was indeed piled high with bed pillows; the bed was against a wall so in some ways it looked like would be lying on a huge couch.

Overall, the room was almost as green as it was outside; the walls were painted a deep hunter green with an oak wood trim that matched all the furniture. My first thought was that I would be sleeping in a tree house, and my second was that my mom knew exactly how to sooth my nerves; in addition to my bed, there was a nightstand, a large desk that faced a huge window, a desk chair, and a wardrobe. The finishing touch was the scented candle that was sitting on my desk; even though it wasn’t lit I could smell the scent of lavender whispering around the room. “Thanks mom, this is perfect.”

She continues chatting as she helps me get into bed; it’s only slightly humiliating that the bed is too tall and I need a step stool to get onto it since jumping is out of the question. “Your cell and its charger are here on the nightstand; if you need anything in the middle of the night just call me or dad, we’ll have ours on.” She tucked me in like I was five and still afraid of the boogeyman. “Now, your laptop and everything is still at your dorm, but you can borrow mine till we make a trip up there to get it.”

She quiets, running her fingers through my blonde forelock; I can see the shift, when she stops thinking “you should think about getting a trim” and starts thinking “When was the last time I got to tuck you in?”… It’s in her eyes. So I decide to break through her sadness. “There is one thing I was hoping you could help me with still.”

Her smile brightens and I see her eyes blink away the tears. “Anything.”

“I was hoping to get some paper and pens.” She gives me a puzzled look and I can just hear her ask “Well, what kind?” so I beat her to it. “A variety, just something to keep my hands busy while I’m working on walking without getting winded; surprise me.”

She huffs out an “Okay, whatever” before she kisses my forehead and turns out the lights. There’s nothing but darkness and thoughts; suddenly I’m anything but tired and I fight the urge to toss and turn. Tomorrow is the first day that I’ll be on my own, so to speak, and I’m already bored with my recovery. I’ve always been able to move about freely and do what I want; being independent was so easy, I never wanted someone to tag along with me. Now, I was basically a child again, and whereas my mother might find it endearing I was not; but then again, wasn’t independence what gave me the opportunity to screw everything up. Too many thoughts, too many deep and terrifying thoughts; I closed my eyes and started counting my breaths. One. Mom and dad were getting along, but for how long. Two. If I sat really still it felt as if nothing had happened, there was no pain or scar or staples. Three. The world was white halls and IV tubes. Four. Stef would never convey my message to Jude. Five. Tomorrow was a new day.

Chapter Text

The next week of my life I spend getting a routine down; I wake up, stiff and in pain, enjoy breakfast with both of my parents, then one would stay at the house with me and the other would go to work. From there my day was resting periodically punctuated by walks or meals or running errands with whoever was in the house; so it fell on me to find something to occupy myself while I recouped my strength. I knew that I needed to find a way to sort through both the emotions as well as the thoughts swirling around in my head; and I knew most of them had to do with Jude.

After breakfast that first morning my dad went off to work while mom cleaned up. “So, I was thinking I would work out in my studio for a while unless you wanted to do something together?”

I had been so wrapped up in my own life that I had pretty much forgotten that my mother was an amateur painter; she had always loved bringing me into her home studios when I was younger, and while she would paint landscapes I would make a mess with my finger-paints. I laugh at the memory; she doesn’t notice. “Maybe in a little while I’ll join you; you can show me your new studio, what you’ve been working on lately, maybe I can catalog some of your prints for you?” I finish the orange juice in my glass and hand it to her so she can dip it in the hot dishwater.

“What are you going to do?” It may be an accusatory statement, but from the small frown I can tell she’s just curious; to be honest, there’s not a whole lot I can do right now and it’s frustrating. It’s not like a vacation where you’ve got down-time and you can use up all your excess energy going on hikes up volcanoes or diving off waterfalls. I was a prisoner to my own body, a body I had previous maintained to near perfection; and now, it was like I didn’t even know what I was capable of because my body was a stranger to me.

I sighed, or possibly groaned, or both, as I stood up and gently stretched. “I have a project I want to work on a bit before I take a walk around the garden.”

“Project?” She echoes over her shoulder as she finishes rinsing the dishes.

“Yeah,” I blush as I turn toward my room, hoping to get away before she can weasel any more into it; it’s personal and I feel as if my life has been completely put under the microscope lately, I’d really just like to keep one thing to myself.

“Okay, well,” she says as I make my way out of the kitchen. I hear her call after me; “Just holler if you need anything. Love you sweetie.”

I smile to myself as I walk back into my room; my mom always has a sense of when to push and when to give me space. When I get back to my room I take a seat at the desk where I’m greeted by an assortment of small gifts; mom sure is quick to act, I think as I peruse the plethora of office goodies she left for me. She must have put this all together early this morning when I wasn’t in here. There’s a variety of notebooks, journals, lose leaf papers-both lined and unlined-as well as the colorful selection of pens and pencils. The lavender candle is still sitting on desk, just off to the corner so that there’s plenty of space for all of the materials my mom left.

I’m immediately inspired, so after stashing away all of the papers and journals I pull out a single sheet of a pearly white stationary and a black fountain pen. And so I start writing…

Day One

Jude-

I’ve been thinking so much about you, and I’m hoping to hear from you soon, but I’m still so nervous. I know that I was stupid and childish and immature, but that doesn’t excuse any of the pain I’ve caused you. I just don’t want to take this lightly; if I get the chance to talk to you, I want to be able to say the things I want to without sounding like a selfish basket case. So, I’m writing to you; because of the two of us, you’re the one I trust more. I just don’t want to screw this up, Jude; second chances like this, if it even happens, are an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I wonder if you’ll ever see these one day; I bet you’d think it’s cheesy. I bet you’d smile and laugh at me; god, I miss your smile… I hope you call.

Chapter Text

Ten days. I spend ten days going on walks, talking to mom in her studio, watching television with dad, and writing to Jude. Each day I feel a little better, the panic from the hospital slowly ebbing away. Each night I find myself rereading what I’ve written to Jude, reflecting, and trying to decide what I’m going to say if and when he calls.

Day Two

Jude-

Do you remember how it felt when we were thirteen, and my dad was my biggest fear; you and I would talk about how close-minded he was and how to sneak around without him catching on? I guess everyone’s changed in the past seven years because my dad is sitting here watching a Padre’s game even after the fact that I told him that I was in love with you. It’s all still a bit unreal; I wake up sometimes and think that I’ve just had some sort of weird dream, but when I have to wash my wound and change my dressing over my sutures the reality sinks back in. I know it might sound like a line, but Jude, I swear when I was coming out of the anesthesia I was thinking about you. I was so awful to you, and then I went and screwed my own life up; I just kept thinking “this is the most painful feeling in the world, I wish Jude were here because Jude always knew exactly what do say or do to make it all okay”. Now that I think about it, that seems like a really selfish thing; but, forgive me for that just for now because I was on some heavy duty pain killers. Besides, of all the things you have a reason to hate me for that seems like the least of it. I really missed you, which was a weird feeling to wake up to seeing as I haven’t seen or hear from you in over seven years. But there it is-the truth… I miss you Jude.

Mom and dad never pushed or asked about what I would do in my room in the morning; in return, I tried not to isolate myself too much. For ten days I helped out where I could around the house, picked up or tidied up whenever I could. I got stronger each day, but each day I had to change my bandages I was reminded that I couldn’t push myself too hard; I didn’t want to make my injuries any worse, I couldn’t afford to be set back. The three of us took to taking walks around the block together at dusk; it may sound so picturesque, but mostly we were all aware of how far I could go or for how long I could walk before I got winded.

Day Three

Jude-

I’ve been thinking about the difference between childhood and adulthood. Jude, I was a happy (albeit naïve and sheltered) kid when you first came into my life, then I turned into an angry attention-seeking teenager but now that I’m older I would have thought I would know more about myself than I do. Turns out, I knew more about myself when I was a kid than I do now; I was going to school, majoring in kinesiology, before I landed in the hospital but I hate math and science is boring. But even when we were kids, I think you knew more about who you were, and maybe even who I was, because you never pretended to be anything other than who you were. I used to envy you for that; when I kissed you, in the tent, I thought maybe I was brave enough to be like that. But even if I did know somethings, I was still a kid, Jude. A stupid kid. A stupid kid who fell in love with the most amazing boy. And all I want is to be able to show you that I’m still the Connor who kissed you in that tent-only now, I really am brave enough to take that leap into that unknown place.

Day Four

Jude-

If you call I want to be able to explain myself, to tell you I miss you, and to apologize… But I want to know about your life too; you’ve grown and changed and you have a life of your own. I don’t know what I expect; I know what I hope, and that’s that you forgive me. Maybe we can talk, on a regular basis, get to know each other again. I might have to resign myself to the fact that you don’t want to be with me romantically, and that might hurt for a while; but if I get the chance to know you as we are now I won’t let that get in the way-I’d rather be with you as a friend than not be with you at all.

Day Five

Jude-

I thought about you today and smiled; see, I can’t get around really well right now due to the staples in my belly, so I take the opportunities I get to go outside. My mom wanted to go to the mall because there’s this really small art shop inside; I tagged along (I travel with a pillow now; by the way, I can see you mocking that). We walked around the mall, poked our heads into a few stores, but what made me think of you was the pet shop. I remember talking to you about dogs and cats; you always leaned more towards cats, and I remember you telling me why. One of your foster homes had a really mean Rottweiler and you said that even though you knew that dogs in general were nice, you just always found cats more calming. We took a look at all the furry little critters, but there was this adorable little kitten that I just couldn’t help but think would make you so happy. It was a girl, not quite a pure Siamese-her fur had hidden speckles of chocolate throughout it; and her eyes were the bluest that I’d ever seen. I spent at least a half an hour playing with her, but eventually my mom had to drag me away. You would have loved her.

Day Six

Jude-

Today was a little bit harder-I think I over did it at the mall with mom. My staples have started to itch, which according to mom is a good sign because she says that means that scabs are forming. I’m feeling really run down and stiff, so dad and I are binge watching shows. I remember watching stuff with you, but we liked things like cartoons and Disney shows. We’ve been watching creepy things like CSI, Law and Order, and even Criminal Minds; I like the mystery aspect mostly, but I know you would hate them. You were always so gentle, even with stuff like television shows and music; I wonder if your tastes have changed much in that department. I wonder a lot of things. Currently, I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to do normal things like go to the mall without the worry of being so drained the next day that I feel almost bed-ridden.

Day Seven

Jude-

I swear this is a vicious cycle Jude, and I hate it. Even when you knew me I was athletic and invested in my body (okay, okay, let’s be honest, I was a vain jock who needed my body to look good because I was using it to hide behind-to hide the fact that I didn’t know what I was doing). Well, now my body is a stranger and I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t feel like myself because I can’t get around and all I want to do is go for a run or hit the batting cages. I rested yesterday, but that meant that I wasn’t exactly tired so I didn’t sleep well; now it’s noon and I feel like I need a nap. This is not how it’s supposed to go, Jude; then again, I don’t know how it’s supposed to go. I feel miserable, like a fragment of my former self.

Day Eight

Jude-

You’ll never believe what my mom did today; but if we ever get to see each other again face-to-face, you’ll love it. So, I was still kind of beating myself up for the past two days and it was my mom’s day to hang out at the house with me. She set me up in her studio to label and price some of her prints, and then she disappeared for a while; I was busy, I really didn’t notice. When it was lunch time, I cleaned up the prints and went to the kitchen. My mom was just standing there, behind the kitchen island, smiling. When I asked her what we were doing for lunch, she opened her mouth to say something and a small “me-ow” came from behind her. We laughed for like an hour, then we had to relive it for dad when he got home, so we laughed some more. Mom said she wanted to see me smile and already the kitten had made me laugh, so obviously she would just have to stay. It was the kitten from the other day at the mall; I think I found my new favorite thing.

“Have you come up with a name for her yet sweetheart?” Mom was sitting on the floor of my room with me while we rolled a jingle-ball in between the two of us; the kitten was bouncing happily after it, pausing for pets and purring happily.

I smile, running a finger from her head down her spine to her tail. “I was thinking about the name Ivy.”

My mom and I giggled as the kitten caught sight of her own tail and went spinning into a summersault to try to catch it. She landed on her back, but undeterred she just stretched. I rubbed her little belly. “I think she likes it,” my mom laughed.

“We’re going to need to go shopping for some kitten supplies tomorrow,” she says. It’s late, and I can tell that we’re all getting tired. I nod in agreement. “But,” she adds, scooping up the happy kitten into a little ball of purrs. “I think she’ll be okay sleeping in here for tonight.”

That night I fell asleep with a warm little friend curled up near my head purring away like a motor. It was a nice reminder that there was still a world out there, waiting for me to return to my full strength.

Day Nine

Jude-

I’ve decided to name the kitten Ivy. She reminds me to keep working through the pain, but to be gentle with myself. She’s beautiful Jude, and so adventurous; you would love her. She gives me something to think about other than you; something to worry about other than the thought that maybe Stef didn’t give you my message. If I think like that I’m surrendering defeat, giving up hope; and if I’m still writing, then I still have hope. I hope that no matter what, wherever you are Jude, that you’re happy and healthy and still have an abundance of hope.

It was early when I woke up that morning; Ivy was up and running around my head like a wild thing, so I texted mom that we were getting up and that we should probably go into the pet store to find her some things to occupy her time with so she didn’t feel the need to attack my pillow in the morning. For such a young kitten, Ivy was already accustomed to her litter box, but she still needed constant care and attention.

During breakfast, for all of us including Ivy, we took turns keeping an eye on her. I was just about done with my poached eggs when I heard my cell phone ringing in my room. I excused myself and went off as fast as I could to grab my phone. It was sitting on my desk, so when I grabbed it I immediately sank into my desk chair.

“Hello?” I answer, realizing that the number had not been recognizable.

There was a long silence; I was about to repeat my greeting when I heard a breath being drawn in on the other side of the phone. “Connor?”

I wasn’t even sure; his voice was so much deeper than it had been. I had to check. “Jude? Is that you?”

I heard a huffed laugh. “Hi Connor; my mom gave me your message.”

It was him. It was Jude…

Chapter Text

I close my eyes, trying to visualize the man that Jude grew into. “Connor,” his voice brings me back. “You still there?”

I take a deep breath. “Jude, is it really you? You sound so different.”

There’s a nervous chuckle from the other side of phone line. “You too. Mom wasn’t big on sharing, but she did say that I should give you a call when I had a bit of free time. I haven’t heard from you or seen you in what…”

“Seven years,” I finish for him.

“Yeah,” Jude’s voice seems a little far off now. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but… What do you want Connor?”

How could I take that the wrong way; I had to remember how out-of-the-blue this was for him. He probably never thought he would hear from me again, so to get a message from his mom… Jude was probably confused. “The short answer is that I missed you.” I take a breath. “The long answer involves an emergency appendectomy that didn’t go as planned and four days of morphine; but in the end, it’s the same conclusion. I missed you Jude, and…” I take another breath because I feel myself beginning to babble emotionally. “I made a lot of mistakes in my life Jude; but the biggest one was leaving you, everything else was just me trying to deal with that I think.”

When I’ve finished, or at least spoken enough, and I feel like I might burst into tears if I say any more, I close my mouth and wait. It takes too long, at least that’s what I’m thinking; and then Jude breaths out heavily. “Connor…”

And somehow I know whatever he’s going to say isn’t going to give me a chance. “Jude, please, just give me a chance. I know that whatever we were when we were thirteen ended horribly, and I know that just because I feel like I nearly died doesn’t excuse anything I did, but please Jude, just listen to me for a few more minutes? Please?” I hear the tears clog my throat and I’m forced to pause and sniffle. God, I feel like everything I say and do comes off as a ploy to play on his emotions.

“Connor? Please, I can’t stand to hear you cry.” Jude’s voice is quiet, there’s shuffling, and then I hear a door close softly and a sniffle. “God, Connor; I… I was sure that I had gotten past this; past the point where looking at old pictures of you and me sent me into fits of giggles, past the point where hearing your voice sent goosebumps along my skin, past the point where hearing you cry makes me want to wrap you up and…”

It’s his turn to take a shaky breath; but I know that he isn’t finished, and I owe him the chance to finish his thoughts. “You know, I had planned to call you, get an update, and make a smart-ass comment before hanging up on you…” he gives a breathy laugh. “But I couldn’t, not after I heard your voice.”

I can hear my mom playing with Ivy in the living room, so I make my way to the door while I keep my phone pressed to my ear. When the door’s closed, and Jude’s still taking deep breaths, I decide I can probably speak again. “I know it’s been years, but I feel the same way Jude; I…” I swallow some of my fears. “I’m not naïve though, you’ve got your own life now and I can’t expect you just to let me back in. I know I hurt you, and I need to make up for that; but, I want to be able to get to know you now, and I want you to know who I am now.”

There’s another soft laugh. “You probably don’t know this Connor, but I’m not exactly living in San Diego anymore; I live in San Francisco, and I’ve got school. How are we going to get to know each other when we don’t even live in the same world? I mean, what are you even doing these days? Did you go to college? Did you join the Army? Did you move to Las Vegas to become a pro-poker player? What?” He’s exasperated; I knew he would be, but the hurt that’s buried under that is what stings.

“Well, Jude, I was going to school-majoring in kinesiology by the way-but for now my folks and I are in my mom’s L.A. house. I’m here until I get the okay from my doctors; I can’t drive, I can barely walk, and I’ve got staples holding my stomach together. So, I understand if you’re busy, but I’ve got all the time in the world right now; I’ll work with whatever time you’ll give me.” I’m feeling desperate and anxious.

“You…” Jude’s breath hitches and I wish I was there with him, because I would hold him in my arms. “You’ve got staples in your…” His breath hisses through his teeth. “God, Connor; I…”

“Jude, please; I didn’t mean to upset you, please, don’t cry.” The tears are stinging my own eyes as I force myself to take long slow breaths, just so he can’t hear my sniffles. “I just want to be able to talk to you again.”

I let us both find some sort of equilibrium, and he’s the one to speak next. “Is this a good number to call you on, Connor?”

“Yeah, it’s my cell.” I hold my breath.

“I can’t promise anything regular,” there’s a pause. “But, I will call. And you can text me, okay?”

“Okay,” I feel like my heart might implode; the combination of lack of oxygen and relief mixing to make my head light.

“I have to go now though,” his voice is small.

“Are you going to be alright Jude?” I can’t help it; I care about him, I don’t want him to be crying his eyes out for the rest of the day.

“Jude? Are you okay in there?” I hear a muffled voice and several small knocks.

“I’ll talk to you later Connor,” and with a click he’s gone.

Jude’s voice is still wafting around me like the scent of the lavender candle on my desk. But now there’s another voice, a muffled voice; whether it was a man or a woman, I couldn’t tell. But he had called, and even though he had planned to hang up on me Jude had spoken to me. Maybe ten minutes, if that, and I could feel the knots inside my chest loosening. Jude had called. We had talked. Sure, we had also cried and blubbered a bit, but it was the first step.

I sent mom a text saying that I needed to do something before we went to the pet store, then I sat back in my desk chair and pulled out a piece of paper.

Day Ten

Jude-

You called today…

Chapter Text

I finish my little writing project for that morning; it takes me closer to an hour today, almost double the time it usual does. When I go out into the living room, my mom has the television on and Ivy is curled up on her lap. She looks up at me as I come into the room.

“Everything alright sweetheart? You were longer than I thought; and did I hear you talking to someone?” She’s still watching the television and rubbing Ivy’s head, but when I just stand in the door way and don’t say anything she turns her eyes to me. “Connor?”

I must have a strange look on my face; I open my mouth, but words don’t come out. “Connor, you’re so pale; what’s wrong?”

My mouth closes and I feel a smile tug at my lips. “I was on the phone…” I take a deep breath. “…with Jude.”

The television goes dark and there’s a high pitched squeal as my mom shifts Ivy off her lap and onto the couch next to her. She’s up and in front of me in a second, a huge grin on her face. “Am I allowed to ask?” She squeaks as she puts her hands on my shoulders and squeezes gently.

I can’t help but laugh; she’s so excited, I never thought I would be sharing things like this with her. “We can talk while we go to the pet store; now, do you think Ivy will be okay in the house by herself?”

We decide to confine Ivy in my bedroom with her litter box while we’re gone. Mom drives while I spend a lot of time squishing and un-squishing the pillow that protects my sutures from the abrasiveness of the seat belt; I can’t wait till I don’t need it, I feel like a toddler. “So,” my mom says, much more calmly than before. “Jude called. That’s a good thing, right?”

I chuckle softly. “I think so, but I’m not a hundred percent sure; I think it was a lot for both of us to deal with.”

That seems to keep mom occupied for the remainder of the trip, not that it’s a long car ride. I think we’re both processing what this means; obviously I have a lot more information than mom. We’re walking into the pet store; I’m pushing the cart, when mom seems to come back to reality. “Did he say what he’s been up to, you know, the last seven years?” Maybe she’s on the right track, I think; start with the basics, then deal with the hardcore emotional stuff.

“He’s going to school up North, San Francisco.” We pick out an assortment of food for Ivy, not exactly sure which one she’ll like.

“Wow,” mom says as she’s picking up a container of kitty litter. “I never took Jude to be so adventurous; he always seemed so shy.” She tossed the kitty litter into the cart. “Did he mention what he was majoring in?”

I shake my head, picking up a couple of kitty toys to show my mom. “We got a little emotional, so there was some stuff that just didn’t make it into the conversation. Which one?” I ask.

“Both,” she says as she picks out a couple as well. “So he’s in San Francisco for school, you got emotional, and…What else am I missing? You said you thought it was a good talk, right?”

I start looking at the cat towers; Ivy will definitely need one, she loves to climb. “He said he’d call. I asked him if we could talk, get to know each other now… He said he would call when he had free time.”

Mom’s standing next to me, comparing the prices of the cat towers, when she nudges my shoulder. “That’s definitely something to celebrate.” We both laugh. We pick out a cat tower, something that Ivy will enjoy but that she might grow out of later on.

“How about we stop at that frozen yogurt place before we head home,” she suggests as she’s loading all our purchases into the back of the car. “In celebration of this new chapter of your life.”

I laugh at her mock medieval tone from the front seat. We end up at the frozen yogurt bar, huge cups of yogurt topped with chunks of cheesecake and cookie crumbs; we laugh and chat and I blush a lot when mom talks about how happy she is to see me like this. It’s good; for the first time since the surgery, I see a glimmer of a life, something that makes me happy that I can work towards.

We head home, unload the car (okay, mom unloads and I supervise Ivy), and decide that the rest of the day should be all about celebrating. Mom makes popcorn and I pick out movies, and we spend the afternoon munching and mocking the movies. I’ll put the cat tower together tomorrow; for now, Ivy and I try out some of her new toys. The rest of the day passes in quiet bliss, something that up until now has seemed unattainable; the past couple of weeks quiet has been a curse. But now, I have something to look forward to.

That evening, before I got to bed, I check my phone; I was in such a state that I had forgotten to save Jude’s number. I go into my phone log and find it; under contact name I put “I left My Heart in SF” and chuckle. I’m almost asleep when I hear my phone ding; I turn over and grab it.

I have a text…From Jude. I squint at the too bright screen until I can make out the words of the message. “I’m sorry for before. I should have been honest and not hung up. I’ll try to call you tomorrow or the next night.” Honest? A cold chill went up my spine and made my scalp tingle. Curse the quiet.

Chapter Text

“Jude? Are you okay in there?” Then he knocks on the door.

I take a breath before I answer him. “Yeah, I’m fine Paolo; I’ll be out in a minute. Sorry.” I hear his footsteps recede and then I sniffle freely. Damn you Connor Stevens; why couldn’t I just blow you off like I had wanted to, I wondered. Slowly I got up off the cold tile floor; I stood in front of the mirror, my hands braced of either side of the sink. I was a mess; my eyes were blood shot and puffy, there were tear stains on my cheeks, and none of this made my pale skin look any better. To add to the obviousness of my emotional upheaval, my nose was stuffy and runny; I couldn’t go out like this. I grabbed a washcloth off the towel rack and turned on the cold water; I washed my face and rang out the cloth before swiping it on the back of my neck.

I took a few more minutes to get myself together before unlocking the bathroom door and slinking back out into the living room. Most of the group had already gone, but Paolo and Karen were sitting on the couch talking. Paolo was facing the restroom door, so he saw me first.

“Jude, will you please explain to Karen why the Baroque period is better than the Gothic; she doesn’t see how wrong she is.” Paolo laughed as Karen punched his arm playfully.

I crack a smile, but even I don’t believe it. “If it ain’t Baroque, don’t fix it.” It lacks the punch that it’s supposed to have, so they just stare at me blankly. “Sorry guys,” I mumble, shuffling my feet absently. “I’m not feeling too hot, I should probably go.”

I’m at the door when Paolo comes up behind me and touches my elbow. I stop and turn to look at him; he’s got his eyes trained on me. “Well, I know you’re not stoned, so you must have been crying in there.” My eye must still be red and puffy.

I snicker, but avoid his gaze. “Like I said, not feeling well.”

His hands go to my shoulders, they’re incredibly warm even through my t-shirt; he’s only known me for six months and he already acts like we’re together. “Maybe we’ll talk about it later tonight, if you’re feeling up to it.” I nod my head, still not looking him in the head. “I’ll bring home a pizza; sausage, peperoni and pineapple, sound good?” I nod again, still silent.

He engulfs me in a hug, but I stay stiff; I can’t deal with this right now. “Text me when you get to the apartment, you know I’ll worry.” He mumbles into my shoulder.

“Okay,” I say flatly as I extricate myself and slip out the door. I feel numb until I reach the lobby and step out into the crisp air; then it all hits me and I feel like I’m stuck in a tornado of thoughts. I get on the bus and sit in the back, trying to reason with myself that my conversation with Connor is in no way cheating on Paolo… We aren’t even exclusive, this isn’t even a relationship. We’re just roommates who occasionally act like a couple, nothing sexual or deep.

By the time I get off the bus I’m trying to reason out the micro-details of what Connor had said; I wanted there to be some sort of lie I could catch him in, some detail that would unravel the emotions that he had brought up again. There wasn’t; it was Connor, and he may have been a horrible friend when I last saw him, but nothing he said had been untrue. I couldn’t even bring myself to think if his call as manipulative because I had cried too; we were both a mess, because we had one thing in common. We missed each other. I may not have said it to Connor, but it was true; I missed him.

I’m still a little numb by the time I reach the apartment building; it’s really a residence hall for the college, but it’s just an apartment complex really. I feel like a zombie as I walk through the lobby and into the elevator; I don’t notice if anyone waves or says hello, instead I keep my head down and I trudge through. I’m relieved when I unlock the door to my dorm; Paolo and I live with two other guys, John and William, but they’re out-they usually don’t get in until late anyway. The apartment is divided into two bedrooms with a living room.

I don’t bother turning on the lights even though the sun is setting outside; I just flop onto the couch and turn the television on. I don’t pay attention to what’s on; I’m still thinking about Connor. I’m stuck on the idea that Connor had to have emergency surgery, that he had to have staples in his stomach, and that he’s spent who-knows-how-long in the hospital; I can’t help but wish I was there for him.

I fall asleep at some point, the television is still on, but I wake up when I feel warm hands trailing up my chest and a solid body behind me on the couch. I feel soft lips press at the nape of my neck before a nose inhales my hair; I giggle sleepily, stretch, and turn. I don’t know what I was expecting, but Paolo wasn’t it; I freeze up for a moment, hoping it isn’t noticeable, before I relax again.

“You forgot to text,” he mumbles into the crook of my neck as he holds me close. “Karen had to finish her sketches before class, so she sent me home anyway. Pizza’s on the coffee table.” He sounds sleepy too, and glancing at the television I see that it’s past ten. This is early for Paolo though, so maybe he’s feeling needy; he does this sometimes, just wanting to be cuddled or kissed.

“I’ve got an early class tomorrow,” I mumble as I roll myself out of his arms and off the couch; I land on the carpet with a soft thud before managing to get to my feet.

“Jude,” he catches my wrist with a whine. “What’s going on? We were all laughing and joking, you went to make that call, and then everything imploded.”

I grab a slice of pizza with my free hand, not wanting to deal with this tonight. “It was more than I thought it would be.” I say before biting into my pizza.

Paolo sits up and pulls me down to sit next to him; thankfully, he leaves a little space between us. “This was that call to that guy Connor, right? You said it was no big deal; you joked that you were going to call, make him feel jealous, and then hang up. So what went array?”

I continue munching on my pizza as Paolo stares at the side of my face; I don’t turn to him even when he clicks the television off, I just keep chewing. “The fact that Connor is Connor…” I sigh. “That’s what went array. He was sweet, honest, just like he was before…”

“Before what?” Paolo prompted.

I give him a side-long look and take a breath. “Before he broke my heart.”

Paolo’s eyes fall, and I can tell that it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. I figure we both need some alone time, so I stand up, this time he doesn’t stop me; I take my pizza with me to my room. I sit on my bed and finish eating; I take out my phone and go into my contacts. I change Connor’s contact name from “the devil” to “kicked puppy” before I start typing out my text. I wait up for a little while, getting cozy in my bed, but Connor doesn’t text me back that night. He’s probably asleep already; lucky him, I think, as I turn over and pretend to be asleep before Paolo comes into the room.

Chapter Text

The next day it’s just me and dad, well and Ivy; mom had an early appointment or something so she was already gone by the time I got up. But dad was in fine form, working the waffle maker when I came into the kitchen. “Oh my god,” I chuckle as I slide onto a stool at the kitchen island. “I had no idea you even knew how to cook.”

My dad roared a laugh as he turned his attention to the pan of bacon on the stove. “It’s something new.” He remarked as he bounced back to the waffle iron. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Actually my girlfriend’s been teaching me some of the basics.”

My dad’s had several “girlfriends” since I was thirteen, but he’s been very careful never to mention them directly or introduce them to me; in fact, that’s why I saw so little of him on my visits to his condo after the divorce was finalized, he would stay out late with his “girlfriend” leaving me to fend for myself. So, to hear him mention one now, made me warry of what he might say next. I watch dumbly as he continues working on breakfast. “What?” He finally groans as he’s plating up the waffles and bacon.

I start pouring syrup, shaking my head absently. “Um, it’s just weird.” He comes around the island to sit next to me. “You’ve never talked about your love-life before. Who are you?”

He chuckles and snatches the syrup away from me playfully. “Well, I thought it might be time. You’ve been so honest with me lately; I thought it was time I start being a little honest with you.”

“So that starts with you telling me about my new step-mommy to-be?” I quip as I chew on a strip of bacon. But when I catch a glimpse of him out of the side of my eye, he’s still as stone and his eyes are staring blankly at his plate. I sputter. “Dad, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make light, it’s just been a lot to deal with lately.”

He nods his head solemnly and sips at his glass of orange juice. “I get it, Connor, I really never spent a whole lot of time with you; to be honest, I wanted to hurt your mother for a long time, but I was really just hurting you. I’m sorry about that,” he looks over at me; his face is open, his eyes are shining, but he seems calm.

“I’m sorry too dad; I mean, I cut you and mom out of my life too.” I chew numbly on the piece waffle that’s in my mouth. “I have to get used to this new arrangement; you and mom getting along, you accepting me being in love with Jude, me being crippled.” I scoff and sip at my juice.

Dad claps a hand on my shoulder and I look up to see him smiling gently. “It is a lot to deal with, I get that. But I really do have to tell you about Sasha; she’s been so supportive through this whole thing, and she really wants to meet you sometime.”

I smile back and we go back to eating breakfast. When we finished dad started to chatter away; he was in such a good mood now. “What do you want to do today?” He asks as he’s cleared away the dishes.

“I think together we should be able to put Ivy’s new kitty tower together; what do you think, are you up to the challenge?”

We pull the box into the center of the living room; okay, maybe dad did the heavy lifting and I set up a movie. We sat on the floor, Ivy distracting us every five minutes, laughing at the movie I had picked and making a mess of the materials from the box.

Dad is trying to figure out the different pieces that I’ve been pulling out of the box when I decide to finally bring up the topic that we’d been avoiding since breakfast. “So how long have you been with Sasha?” I hand him another piece.

He smiles, and I can tell; it’s one of those smiles that goes beyond his lips, the kind that makes his eyes twinkle a little. “Three year anniversary will be in November.” I swear, if he wasn’t my dad and it wasn’t completely obnoxious, I would have sworn that he was blushing like a teenager.

“Seems serious,” I smirk as I pull out an accordion folded piece of paper; the instructions, most likely. “I guess living in Boston has really been a good change for you; I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “But, Sasha and I have been talking about moving back here to California. She works as a professor, so it wouldn’t be right away.”

We start organizing the bits and pieces of the cat tower. “And she’s been teaching you how to cook? What else?”

Dad starts putting a couple of the pieces together while he laughs. “Here,” he folds the instructions the way he wants and hands them to me. “You hold this, and I’ll tell you about her.”

Apparently Sasha is a miracle worker; I find out about how she got my dad to do yoga and talk to a shrink and all sorts of things. She’s not as young as I thought she would be; she’s a little younger than dad, but nothing too creepy. I think the most surprising is the fact that Sasha is actually the one who encouraged dad to smooth things over with mom; apparently maturity takes time, because dad finally listened. She twisted his arm into trying to go vegetarian, but it only lasted for a few days before dad had to have a steak; even then, Sasha was understanding, she wasn’t a hundred percent vegetarian anyway. They’ve been living together for a little over a year, and it was his idea; he had asked her after six months, but she had turned him down, so he waited.

“You love her,” I say. Our movie is running through the credits and the cat tower is almost done. “Don’t you?”

He grins at me over the instruction pamphlet. “I think so; it’s kind of terrifying between you and me.”

I chuckle as he turns back to the tower-Ivy’s already playing on it, even though it’s in three huge pieces that we still need to put together. “You’re telling me.”

He shoots me a look and his eyebrow is cocked. “Spill; what’s going on?”

“Well, you know Jude called yesterday.” He did; when he had arrived home last night mom and I had told him about it and he’d whooped and asked for a high five. “He sent me a strange text late last night; makes me think that he lied to me or something.”

“But he said he’d call you, right?” He was busy snapping the pieces of the tower together.

I sighed and flopped onto the couch. “Yeah, but who knows when that will be.”

I try not to dwell on it, but I have to admit that there’s a pit of anxious energy in my stomach. When the kitty tower is done dad asks if I want to go for a walk, but I tell him I need to do something before. I got to my room, like I usually do, and pull out a piece of paper and a pen.

Day Eleven

Jude-

You, your existence, your voice, your everything, does something to me; it’s like all the air in the room comes from you. You sent me a text yesterday that took that air right out of me. I only talked to once and I’m already afraid of losing you. I don’t know why I feel so strongly about you, but I do. I think I got a glimpse of what its like to see it from the outside today; my dad, after having such a hard time with him, he opened up to me today. He’s in love with a woman, I haven’t met her or anything, but I can tell by the way he smiles when he talks about her. I wonder if that’s how we used to look, before I screwed everything up and left you. God, why did I leave you? I should have been there to witness all the great things in your life, but instead I’m stuck wondering things like… Who was that I heard on the phone? His boyfriend? His roommate? I just wish I wasn’t so in the dark. I want to be able to see you and not wonder.

Dad and I go for a walk after I finish writing; we talk a bit more about Sasha and what she’s like, but we don’t talk about Jude anymore. When mom gets home I do something I haven’t done since I was a kid; I curl up on the couch with her, my head in her lap so she can play with my hair. I know mom and dad whisper a bit; they’re concerned about how quiet I am tonight, but I just explain that I’m worn out.

I go to bed early but I don’t sleep for a while. I get a text message around midnight; it’s from Jude: “Sorry I couldn’t call tonight, some stuff came up. I hope you’re feeling better. Surprised you haven’t texted me.”

I decide that I can’t be scared to be honest, even if I’m terrified; so I text him back: “I can’t wait to hear about your life, mine is so boring right now. We should both get some sleep. Good Night Jude. Love, Connor.”

Chapter Text

Other than the awkwardness that was building between Paolo and me, Connor Stevens’s unexpected entrance into my life hadn’t really affected my life. I woke up the next morning to a blaring alarm clock, same as usual; Paolo gave me a disgruntled glare since his first class wasn’t until noon, which wasn’t all that unusual although the finger he gave me was a tad unnecessary.

I didn’t have class until eleven, but I had managed to snag a job at the smoothie and juice bar just around the corner from campus last year so I picked up hours around my class schedule. I showered, dressed, and got out of the apartment without a word to any of my roommates; okay, fine, that wasn’t typical of me, and yes, it was because I was thinking about Connor. I didn’t bother eating anything before leaving the apartment, I could always just whip myself up a smoothie when I got to work; even the dorm lobby on the ground floor was empty as I walked out into the dewy San Francisco morning.

I caught the bus just outside the dorm apartments. As I was sitting on the bus, I pulled out my phone; I read and reread my text to Connor, and tried to dismiss my disappointment at the fact that he hadn’t texted me back. I spent the rest of my trip into work rationalizing through the reasons why Connor hadn’t texted me back; it was a late night text, it was still too early, he was giving me space, or he didn’t have texting on his phone plan (yeah right, everyone texts).

I was glad to walk into work and find the place busy with people; I put on my smoothie apron and stopped thinking about Connor Stevens long enough to spend the next three hours making smoothies. Then, it was time to focus on classes; I took the bus back to the dorms to grab my school bag and then took another bus straight to campus. I went through a two hour seminar on Greek Architecture, four hour figure drawing class, and then a meeting with my illustration professor. It was nearly eight by the time I was done with school, but then I had a meeting with my portfolio advisor.

I was on the bus, heading back to the dorms, when Connor popped back into my head. I pulled out my phone to check it because I keep it on silent during classes; still there’s no text from Connor, not even a missed call. I get back to the dorm only to find that Paolo is having an anime movie marathon with a couple of his cartoon-major friends from the building.

“Hey guys,” I say lamely as I try to get into the tiny apartment living room; there are at least seven relative strangers sitting around staring at the neon rays of the television. “What are we watching?” I try to get to the couch; anime isn’t my favorite, but I’m not too picky.

I can’t make it to the couch, which is where Paolo is sitting-in the center with a giggling goth girl on his left and a clingy guy on his right. He turned to look my way when I managed to accidently kick the shin of a guy as well as lose my own balance and crash into the wall. “Oh, hey Jude.” I couldn’t make out his expression in the dark and neon shadows being thrown by the television. “We’re watching TopGun.”

I groan as I get myself back on my feet. “How much longer do you think this little party is going to last? I’ve got an architecture sketch I have to work on and an early shift again tomorrow.” I shuffle backwards until I’m clear of arms and limbs.

Paolo sighs heavily before I catch him rolling his eyes. “Well, we just started an hour ago; think you can work in the lounge for an hour or so? I can find you when we’re done.”

I feel my shoulders slump; Paolo’s not above being passive aggressive, but I thought we were beyond that. I figure he just needs some time to be angry, so I tell him I’ll be in the lounge and I leave. The lounge is on the fourth floor, which is a couple down from our floor; it’s a large open space with tables and chairs and armchairs scattered all about. When I get there, there’s a few other students working on various assignments, but no one I recognize so I find a table and set up shop.

I have my Ipod on, my headphones in, and I’m just about done with my architecture sketch when a hand waves in front of my nose; I jump, startled. The lounge is empty now, and Paolo is standing there with his hands on his hips; he sighs, like I’m bothering him. “We’re done, and I even cleaned up. You can come on up when you’re ready.” I don’t even get a chance to say thank you before he’s striding away. He’s gone before I even stand up.

By the time I get back to the room, it’s almost one in the morning; Paolo and my other roommates are all asleep, so I try to be quiet about putting my stuff away and getting ready to go to sleep. Paolo turns over in his sleep as I’m getting into bed; I can’t make out words, but I think he says something along the lines of “keep it down”. I lay there for a while, the darkness peaceful; then my brain comes back to Connor.

I pull out my phone; there’s still no reply from Connor, and I finally decide that I want to text him again. In my head I tell myself it’s to explain why I didn’t call him today, but really I just want to say something to him. I type out an honest message, without filtering my feelings or worrying about how I might appear: “Sorry I couldn’t call tonight, some stuff came up. I hope you’re feeling better. Surprised you haven’t texted me.” I send it and lay back in bed, not really expecting anything-it’s late, just like last night, why would he reply.

A few minutes later, and a grumble from Paolo, my phone vibrates and I look to see a text from Connor: “I can’t wait to hear about your life, mine is so boring right now. We
should both get some sleep. Good Night Jude. Love, Connor.”

My breath catches in my throat as I reread his words; is Connor Stevens honestly telling me that he loves me. If it were anyone else, and if the message hadn’t been so heart-felt, I would have said that he was just using a typical farewell. But this was Connor Stevens, and he did love me, at least he did when we were thirteen. I put my phone away and vowed that tomorrow evening, before it was too late in the day; I was going to call Connor Stevens. Connor was a trap, one my heart had been caught in years ago; and maybe, if i was honest with myself, my heart was already falling into that trap again. If I was going to keep thinking about Connor, then I at least had to talk to him.

Chapter Text

The next day I woke up to Ivy batting at my the fringe of golden hair that was hanging in my eyes; it had been a while since I’d gotten my hair trimmed, I guess this was Ivy’s way of letting me know that it was time to get a haircut or maybe it was her way of approving. As I got up I noticed that there was a note lying on my desk; I left Ivy to play under my sheets and I went over to pick up the folded piece of paper.

“Had such a good time hanging with you yesterday, unfortunately I got a call early this morning and I’m needed back in Boston. I should be back in a few days; text me if you feel like it. Love you, Dad.” I wondered how much of my dad’s sudden business trip was motivated by his missing Sasha; I smile as I drop the note back onto my desk, happy that my dad had found someone he was so crazy about.

I scoop up Ivy and we both head out to the kitchen to find mom scrambling eggs. “So we’ve got a big day ahead of us,” she chirps as she sets a plate of eggs in front of me before sliding onto the stool next to me; I quirk an eyebrow at her, confused and slightly sleepy still. “We’ve got your appointment with Dr. Keller this afternoon; just a checkup to fill him in and then get his input of the post-op treatment.”

“Oh,” I draw out the sound for a moment. “That’s right. I must have forgotten.” I start eating, grabbing a slice of whole wheat toast to go with my eggs.

“Not surprising since we made the appointment while you were still in the hospital, all doped up on morphine.” She chuckles and ruffles my hair. “The mops getting a little long; did you want to swing by a barber on the way home from the doctor’s office?”

I shrug as I continue eating. “Got a couple texts from Jude,” I try to keep my voice level and calm; it doesn’t matter, mom squeaks.

“I can’t believe you’ve waited to tell me this,” she says as she munches on toast. “What did he say? I thought he was going to call you yesterday.”

I smile as we finish up breakfast; I even help clear up after. “He texted me to tell me he had had a long day, and that’s why he hadn’t been able to call. He also hoped that I feel better; I think it’s sweet, and a good sign. Maybe he’s coming around a little bit.”

Mom couldn’t help but “aw” a little, but a sharp glance her way sent her into a fit of giggles. “Sorry sweetie,” she said as she finally calmed down. “I just can’t help but remember how sweet he was when you two were thirteen; he’s still the same Jude deep down.”

“I should go change,” I say before she can squeal or giggle anymore. “The doctor’s going to want to take a look at my staples, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded; we both pretended that I hadn’t been living out of sweatpants. I couldn’t wear anything that was stiffer than elastic because my waistline ran right through the middle of my surgical staples; I had even occasionally gone without underwear to cut down on the pressure that pressed into my wound.

I went back into my room, leaving my mom to play with Ivy; as I pulled my shirt off to start getting dressed I heard my phone chime from my nightstand. I picked it up and saw that I’d just received a text from Jude; as I walked over to my closet, I opened it and read: “You up already? I’ve got work, but only one class after; I think I’ll be able to call you later. How are you doing?”

I smile as I pull a pair or sports shorts out of my dresser and then look into my closet for a faded, comfortable t-shirt. I type out a reply, the smile not fading: “Surprised you’re up, aren’t college students supposed to sleep till noon? I have to get my staples checked out today by yet another doctor-I’ve never had so many people interested in my belly button/groin.”

I strip down to my underwear-a much harder feat now that I really can’t bend at the waist; I don’t expect anything, Jude said he had work (wonder what he did) and then class. But, just as I was pulling up my shorts my phone chimed again: “Some of us have early morning jobs so we don’t sleep in very much, but we make up for it by staying up late and drinking way too much coffee. Sorry about all the poking and prodding you have to go through. Although, I bet you’ve had a lot of people interested in that area before.”

I feel my brow crinkle; I put my phone down on my bed while I pull my t-shirt over my head. Jude thinks I’ve been a playboy; I don’t like thinking about it, especially now that I’ve decided to face up to my mistakes. I don’t want to lie to him, or give him the wrong impression, but I also know that if I make one wrong move then Jude could cut all communications and that would be that. I smoothed my shirt down before I pick my phone back up.

I type out a text that I hope will ride right down the line: “Never the right person interested. Hey, shouldn’t you be doing whatever it is you do that they pay you for?” I hope the joke is what he holds onto.

I get a text back almost immediately: “Send me a pic when you aren’t getting molested by doctors; I want to be able to see your face when I’m thinking about you. I’m about to clock in, but know that I’m thinking about you. Love, Jude.”

I chuckle and take my phone with me; mom puts Ivy in her room this time when we leave the house, I grab my pillow from near the front door, and then we left. We ran a couple of errands before the appointment; mom and I hit a bookstore, an art supply store, and the pet store before we have to drive to the medical offices.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Mom is pretending that this is completely normal, flipping through an out of date magazine. She’s trying to give me a chance to claim my privacy since I didn’t get any in the hospital.

“No,” I sigh heavily. “You were more aware during the whole ordeal, you might have important information that I just can’t remember.”

A few minutes later a nurse in pink scrubs called “Stevens” and mom and I were escorted into through a small hallway into an even smaller cubicle. The nurse helped me up onto the exam table while my mom took a seat in a spare chair in the corner. My vitals were taken, written down, and the nurse made took down all the medications that I’d been prescribed post-op. The nurse smiled, said the doctor would be right in, and stepped into the hallway before closing the door behind her.

I couldn’t stand sitting on the exam table, forcing myself to have good posture when it felt as if my stomach would split open any second; I lay back on the table. Doctor Keller came in a few minutes later, a file in one hand and a serious smile for both me and mom. He shook my hand and asked me to show me the staples; I wiggled my waistband down and then lifted my shirt up to my armpits.

Doctor Keller spent more than a half hour going over the details of my surgery and the post-op care that the surgeon had given me; I thought maybe that would be it, but apparently after incidents like this doctors get a little skittish. “I want to run some tests while you’re recovering and not in school; we don’t want to miss any other issues that might have resulted from a trauma like this.”

I was going to complain, to explain that it had been a fluke, but then I realized that maybe it was better to be safe than sorry; I didn’t want to have any other emergency surgeries. I kept my mouth shut as Doctor Keller wrote out blood orders and asked to see me in a month to check on things. Once that was settled, the doctor left and the nurse returned to escort us out to the waiting room. Mom helped me set another appointment before we walked back out to the car; I sighed, frustrated and exhausted.

“Well, at least he said you were healing well.” My mom looked over at me, a sympathetic smile on her face.

I couldn’t help but grimace; “Yeah, but he wants to run all sorts of tests now.” I groan. “I hate this; I feel like a freak, like everyone wants to study me just because my stupid appendix was twisted in a knot.”

Mom wrapped me in a hug, even with the car’s center console blocking her; hot tears of frustration stung my cheeks as she soothed me with words of love and encouragement. When I had snuffled myself out, she squished my face between her hands and gave me a watery smile. “How about we treat ourselves to a movie before we head home, yeah? Something stupid? Ivy should be good for a few more hours.”

I nod wordlessly and she kisses my forehead. We get home a couple of hours later, the sun starting to sink into the distant ocean, and I go off to my room while mom starts making dinner. I take Ivy into my room with me; we lay on my bed for a bit when I remember that Jude had asked for a picture. I take out my phone, hold Ivy under my chin and grin as I snap the photo; I send it to Jude with the message: “This is Ivy by the way”. Ivy curls up on my pillow to take a nap, so I leave her there while I go to my desk.

I’ve just begun writing…

Day twelve

Jude-

I feel like my body is a stranger to me; I can’t even bring myself to look too closely at my staples-it’s too weird thinking that there are staples holding my lower abdomen together. I tried once, and I started to cry hysterically and mom had to take over replacing my bandage. I was always so concerned with my appearance and now I’m not sure even you would be able to find me sexy-I’m going to have a gnarly scar from my groin to my bellybutton. Today you texted me, wanted to talk to me, even sort of asked if I was seeing anyone in an odd way. I wanted so much to tell you that I’m single…

When I get a text from Jude: “Still the most adorable smile I’ve ever seem; Ivy looks cute too, but I would probably snuggle with you. I’ll call you at ten, if that’s not too late for you?”

I smile, a blush creeping over my face, and I chuckle softly. I type back: “Can’t wait, but you’ve got to stop making me blush.” I put my phone down and stare at the sentence I was in the middle of writing and curse under my breath; I have to make it right, and preferably before Jude knows.

Chapter Text

“Have you seen my phone Paolo?” I grumbled as I shuffled back into the dorm apartment; things hadn’t gotten any better. In fact, in the past twelve hours everything that could have gone wrong had; at least, that’s how it seemed. And I had a feeling my roommate was behind most of it. My alarm had mysteriously been changed from six to eight, which landed me in hot water with the owner of the smoothie shop. In my frenzy to get to work I had skipped food, showering, and apparently left my phone somewhere. Work was no better; customers were particularly irritable, impatient, and it was a trial just to smile as I made their smoothies. Then, due to the unfortunateness of being late to work, I was now also late for class; to add to that, I didn’t have any of my school supplies with me. I had a lecture, so I bummed a pen and a couple sheets of paper from a classmate, and then after class-to make up for my screw up that morning-I worked an evening shift at the smoothie shop.

Now, at nine in the evening, I walked into my apartment only to find my roommates huddled together, all three foreheads knocking together, giggling. As I walked in the noise evaporated and all six eyes snapped onto me; I froze. John and William quickly scurried off to their bed room, giggles trailing after them; that left Paolo, a sour look on his face, and my cell phone in his hand.

“What are you doing?” I snap as I step into the room, closing the door behind me.

Paolo scoffs and tosses my phone lazily toward me; it slides across the floor, but doesn’t make it all the way to me. “It kept ringing,” he said as he shifted so he wasn’t looking at me.

I scrambled forward and crouched down to pick up my phone; I gasped, horrified. “You’ve been texting Connor?!” I screech; the giggling coming from the other room ceased immediately.

Paolo huffed and shifted so his back was to me. I read the messages that I hadn’t written, as well as Connor’s responses; my eyes widened, Paolo had openly been flirting with Connor and even gotten him to send a picture. My head was spinning, anger and shame running through me full force. “Paolo, how could you do this?!” I was openly yelling now, something I hated, but now it was necessary.

Paolo’s head turned to look at me over his shoulder, his dark eyes smoldering with resentment and his own healthy dose of anger. “You should have changed your passcode.” He snapped, sniffling dramatically.

“I trusted you,” I seethed as I stepped towards the couch. “And you do this; why? Tell me why you did this.”

I was nearly on top of him when he jumped up and stood to face me. “Because Jude,” he crossed his arms, his voice guttural with how he was trying to control his anger. “Two days ago I was sure that you were going to ask me out and now suddenly you’re acting all weird and closed-off.” He huffed again and edged away from me; I stayed still.

“So that gives you the right to steal my phone and text people on my behalf?” My words have bite, but I don’t care. “What else did you do? Should I be concerned about your stability? Paolo you have to talk to me because this doesn’t make any sense.”

Paolo threw his arms up, rolling his eyes. “Really Jude,” he hollered. “You’re concerned about my mental state; that’s laughable. Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve spoken to me in two days?”

I feel my brow crinkle; Paolo’s face suddenly fell, his eyes desperately searching me. “That’s what this is about?” My voice is lower, and I feel drained.

Paolo stepped closer to me, his hands reaching out for me. “Don’t you see Jude; before you called this Connor guy, we were so close. We could go back to that; he’s not worth throwing what we have away. Just call him and tell him to go to hell; we can snuggle and make up after and things will be good.” Paolo steps closer and I immediately recoil.

“You’ve got to be kidding me Paolo,” I back up until I’m practically against the door. “I can’t believe you would do this. I’m filing for a room transfer tomorrow; I don’t think I’m comfortable living in the same apartment with you.” I put a hand on the doorknob; I make sure I’ve got my phone, my keys, my wallet and my book bag. “When I get back, I want you to be asleep.”

Paolo rushes forward, but I put a hand up to stop him; he’s a few feet away, I can see tears running down his cheeks. I would have been inclined to comfort him before he had done this, but now I just wanted to get away from him. “Don’t, Paolo; just don’t.”

“Jude…” he cries as I open the door and start to slip out into the hallway. I don’t turn around; I just closed the door behind me. I could hear Paolo start to wail, mostly my name, but I hear words like “No” and “I’m sorry” and “Come back”.

I end up in the lounge, staring at the texts that Paolo had written to Connor and what Connor had written to, well, me. Eventually I stop rereading the messages and I focus on the selfie that Connor sent; he looks happy, so does Ivy. It’s almost ten now, he’ll be expecting me to call; my world was crashing around me… Maybe I should reconsider, but calling Connor seemed like the only good thing that I had at the moment. I stared into those hazel eyes. “I’m not as flirty as Paolo,” I mumble. “Hope you don’t mind.” I take a deep breath before I hit the call button.

Chapter Text

My phone starts ringing just after ten; I remind myself to breathe before I hit the answer button. “Hello?”

I hear a sharp inhale before Jude speaks. “Hey Connor,” he sounds tired.

“You alright, Jude? You sound kind of…”

“I have to tell you something.” His voice is soft, which should calm me but I can’t help but remember his first text.

“Okay,” I try to keep my voice level. “What is it?”

“My phone was stolen today,” he sighs. “The person who’s been texting was my roommate, not me.” He seems sad.

“Are you okay? I mean, you’re on it right now…” I pause, thinking of how to phrase it. “Did he just give it back?”

Jude sighed heavily. “That’s the other thing Connor; he says he did it because he thought he and I were together…” there’s another sigh. “Or at least he thought we were going to be together.”

I can’t help the “Oh,” that comes from my lips.

“No, Connor, don’t even think…” he inhaled sharply. “Whatever he was thinking, it wasn’t what I wanted; he didn’t even talk to me about it. Either way, he knows now…”

I take a breath. “Knows what? I mean, there’s not much to know is there?” I take the chance to situate myself on my bed so I won’t get overwhelmed and fall over.

Jude groans and I can’t help but chuckle. “Connor there’s definitely something between us; you know it, I know it, and apparently my roommate knew it.” He grumbled. “Whatever, I got my phone back and I made it clear that what he did was crossing a line. And tomorrow I have to transfer dorms cause I can’t live with him after this.”

Now it was my turn to groan, but before I could speak Jude was gasping. “Connor, are you alright? Is it your staples?”

I chuckle softly and sigh. “No, Jude, I’m fine. I just hate that I’ve caused you such problems and all I’ve wanted was to talk to you…” I can’t believe this is all happening. “Maybe I should have just left you alone.”

“If I was closer I’d punch you in the arm Connor Stevens,” Jude said exasperatedly. “What I’m trying to tell you is that I was about to jump into a relationship with someone who was completely untrustworthy and even though you and I are still in a weird place, you helped me see that.”

I scoff, but he continues. “I should be thanking you Connor; I thought I knew him, thought he was a decent guy, turns out I still have dismal taste in guys.”

We both laugh lightly. “I’m so sorry Jude; you deserve so much better than him, than me…” I breathe heavily. “I wanted to know about your life, not blow it up.”

Jude chuckles and I swear I hear a smile in there somewhere. “My life… Connor, I’ve been so worried about you the last couple of days; I can’t believe you had surgery.”

“Surgery was nothing,” I snort. “It’s everything after the surgery that’s chaos.”

“At least you’re not too lonely,” he quips. “I saw the picture of Ivy; she’s so pretty Connor, and she looks little.”

“Yeah,” I smile. “She’s just a few months old. Mom adopted her from a pet store after I fell in love with her.”

Jude laughs. “So I guess you’ll be staying with her for a while then, huh? Dorms don’t usually allow pets, do they?”

I clear my throat; this could be a tender topic, so I ease into it. “I’m not allowed to go back to school right now, doctors’ orders. When they clear me, I’ll have to figure out if I can catch up I guess, but until then I’m staying in L.A.”

“With your mom you said, right?” His voice has started to lighten, which makes the knot in my stomach loosen.

“Yeah and dad too actually.” I chuckle when I hear Jude say “No way”. “I know, it’s been totally weird to see them getting along after so many years of hatred, but they both seem to be doing well.”

Jude sighs deeply. “It must have been bad, whatever happened, if it brought them back together.” There’s another soft sigh that’s verging on a yawn. “I…I was wondering if…Could I ask what happened?”

I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion that I can hear in Jude’s voice as well as my own emotion. “I…” I take a breath. “I don’t know where to start,” I say honestly. “Why don’t you just ask me whatever questions you might have and I’ll try to answer them?”

Jude chuckled and said “Sounds fair” before asking me his first question. “So, you said you were in the hospital for four days? How miserable was it? I mean, you must have been on bed rest, so they must have had to tie you down to keep you from getting up.”

I laughed at that; Jude had known me right as I was getting into baseball, which meant that I was always training and working out. “Well, when I first woke up I tried to sit up and it felt like I was being sliced in two, which I kind of was, so whatever. And I actually nearly fainted when the doctors made me start walking; not to mention I was hooked up to like three different tubes so it wasn’t like I could have done sprints if I wanted to.” Jude’s quiet, so I force a chuckle to ease my own nerves. “And then I had a panic attack towards the end which was just the cherry on top of sundae that was my four day vacation to the hospital.”

“Connor…” Jude’s voice sounds like gravel, but the sniffle that follows makes it clear that he doesn’t find it quite as funny. “God, I’m so sorry Connor. I should have…”

“What, Jude?” I cut him off because I know what he’s trying to get at. “We hadn’t even spoken in seven years; you couldn’t have known that I was hospital, so there was no way for you to be there or anything.”

“But…” He sniffles. “I wish I had known…” I hold my breath. “I would have been there for you.”

I can’t seem to breathe normally. “You would have?”

Jude sighs, but I can hear the wetness in his voice. “Connor, I would have been there in a heartbeat…” I inhale through my nose, air suddenly an amazing feeling. “But don’t
you see Connor; I don’t know why you affect this much, and it scares me. Connor, it’s been seven years, and the first thing I hear about you is that you were in the hospital…”

“It’s a lot to take in, I get that.”

“Do you know what my first thought was?” Jude breathed heavily into the phone. I made a noise to indicate that I had no idea. “I was about to buy a plane ticket, to fly down there to see you; it took looking at my bank account to realize that I couldn’t…”

“Oh Jude,” I feel the tears prickling at my eyes. “I’m scared too, you know; it’s all happening so fast. I want to know you, I want to see you too, and I want to hear about your college and your friends…” I take a deep breath. “But I get it; I hurt you, and that isn’t something that just goes away. I understand if you can’t…”

“Connor,” his voice is soft, but I stop talking immediately. “We should talk more tomorrow, it’s getting late.”

I feel my heart drop as I look at the clock; it’s past eleven. Jude’s had a hard day though, I remind myself; he’s lost a friend and a roommate. “Hey,” it’s soft, but desperate.
“Are you okay? You know, going back to your room with your roommate; I don’t want you to go back there if you’re uncomfortable.”

Jude huffs a laugh; and I swear I can see him running his hand through his chocolate brown waves in my mind. “I’ll be okay Connor.”

“I worry about you too, you know.” I feel as if I’m holding my heart out for him; he could smash it or he could take it. “Before you go, could you at least tell me something about your day…Maybe something other than your almost-boyfriend texting me on your stolen cell phone?”

Our laughter is awkward and short lived, but I hear him breathing and it makes my breathing easier. “Today was actually kind of terrible Connor; I don’t know what I can say…” He inhales, there’s a second of silence, but then he snickers. “I think the highlight of my day was a tie between being late for everything and not having anything I needed. But, I think if I had to pick, I’d have to say my favorite was actually being able to see you.”

I feel my cheeks heat up, suddenly aware that that text was sent to a person I knew nothing about. “I thought you’d like to see Ivy more; she’s so sweet Jude, you’d love her-she’d probably like you more than she likes me.” I try to play cool, but my voice is slightly squeaky.

Jude giggles, actually giggles, at my clear awkwardness. “She’s very adorable Connor…” I groan in embarrassment. “You know, I might be down there for Spring Break this year, maybe I could come over and meet her?”

I swallow my humiliation quickly. “Um, sure, but wouldn’t you rather do something fun?”

Jude laughs at me again; I never knew I was so hilarious. “Spring Break is more than a month away Connor; we’ll talk and text until then…Who knows, maybe I can do both.”

My mind is blank, numb, empty; did Jude just… “Anyway, I’ve really got to get going Connor. I have an early morning shift at work tomorrow. I’ll talk to you tomorrow hopefully; if you don’t hear from me send me a text to make sure I’m alive, okay?”

I laugh; I can tell Jude is a little embarrassed, the way he’s itching to hang up the phone now. “Sleep well Jude,” it’s better than saying “Good Night” because it’s clear that Jude’s had a bad day and a horrible night... But I still want him to get some sleep.

“Good Night Connor, feel better.” Jude’s kind even when he’s confused. I hear him hang up, but I keep my phone pressed to my ear for a moment longer. This is going to take a lot of talking, I remind myself. But Jude cares; he wanted to visit me in the hospital, and I couldn’t imagine it. We were different people, but the same thirteen year olds who had fallen in love.

Eventually I put my phone on my nightstand and get up to tell mom that I’m going to sleep; she’s got Ivy on her lap, so I give them each a kiss on their heads before I head back to my room. Lying in bed, I can’t help but hope that Jude’s okay going back to his room with that guy there. I wanted him to feel safe, not like he was in jeopardy of his things being stolen. Who was I kidding; I wanted Jude to be with me, and knowing he was on the verge of a new relationship only made me more nervous. Sleep was an elusive friend that night; I tossed and turned, and when I did sleep I had dreams of robbers with no faces.

Chapter Text

When I go back to the apartment I’m thankful to find everything quiet, everyone seemingly asleep, and all the emotions hidden away. I made sure to be as quiet as possible as I put my stuff away in the entry, and as I walk into the darkness of the apartment I suddenly decide that I really don’t want to sleep in my room; the idea of sharing a room with Paolo giving me a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. I creep into my room to grab a pair of sweatpants and then head back into the living room. I change into the sweat pants, leave on my t-shirt, and make myself comfortable on the couch; I set an alarm on my phone before I try to get some sleep.

I don’t sleep well, the couch is small and I toss and turn so much that I almost fall off of it several times. I’m exhausted, but at least it’s a new day. I get up before my alarm, change back into my clothes from the day before, and get ready to head out. I leave before I even hear anyone else’s alarms, take my bag with me and head down to the first floor to wait outside the resident housing office.

“Can I help you?” I’m rudely awakened from a light doze by a woman not much older than me; she’s wearing the green Res-Life polo and unlocking the door that I’m sitting in the hallway next to.

I clear my throat, sleep still thick in my throat. “Yeah,” I grumble as I get to my feet. “I need to put in a request to transfer dorms.”

She sighed heavily as she pushed the door to the office open. “Come on in and we’ll try to sort this out,” she looked as tired as I felt just I walked into the office. She followed closely behind me and managed to get around me and take her seat behind her desk. “Sit,” she waved to the empty chairs in front of her desk.

I took a seat and let my bag fall to the ground at my side. “So first I need your name, school ID number and your room number.” I give her my information and sit patiently as she types it all into her computer. “Alright, I see you’re in a quad with Paolo, William, and John; is that correct?”

She looks up from her computer screen to meet my eyes. “Yes,” I say flatly.

“Now, you say that you want to switch rooms; why?” This may be her job, and it may be part of the process, but I swear I see a glint of amusement in her eyes.

“One of my roommates stole my phone and made people believe that he was me; he wasn’t even sorry that he’d done it, and I don’t think I’ll be able to live in the same room with him anymore.” Her eyes got wide as I finished my brief description of the events of yesterday.

“Well, sure,” she says as it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I can see what I can do, but it might take as long as a week for the head of the Res-Life to arrange an appropriate swap.” I grunt in acceptance. “Um,” I look up and she’s got her eyes trained on me. “If this is a problem you might want to file a grievance against your roommate.”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “What would that do? I got my phone back already anyway.”

“It creates a paper record in case something like this happens again,” she says very seriously. “If he were to do something dangerous or illegal you would be able to show a history of escalation.”

“I’ll think about it,” I answer numbly; I had never thought about if there could be a next time with Paolo. “Can we just get this done; I have to get to work soon.”

I have to fill out some forms and sign a couple of papers; it doesn’t take very long, so the woman fills out another form for me to sign. “Here, just fill out the bottom portion; it should only take you five minutes, then you can leave.”

I take the paper and look it over; it’s an official grievance complaint form. I sigh and start filling out the form, the faster this was done with the better. When I finished, I slide the page across the table. “Here,” I groan. “Can I go now?” She nods, takes the paper and smiles.

I get up and leave; I feel like a zombie as I get on the bus and watch as San Francisco go by. Work drags by, but I smile and hand people their smoothies. Class that day was harder to get through than usual; a fiction class, an illustration workshop, and a late history of children’s literature. I check for mail when I get back to the dorm apartment; there’s a letter from Callie and a notice from Res-Life. I take my stuff up to the lounge, not wanting to risk running into Paolo.

I read the Res-Life notice first; it basically says that they’ve received my request and that I should be hearing from them soon. Next, I open the letter from Callie; she tells me about moms and school and Brandon, but it’s still too short. I haven’t called them since mom gave me the news about Connor; to be honest neither of them had forgiven him, so talking to them had been hostile and uncomfortable. I knew moms would be a little disgruntled when they found out about Paolo and how Connor had played into that; I didn’t need the stress of their judgement on top of the stress I was already feeling within the dorm.

I started working on a short story for my fiction class; it was supposed to be a sci-fi romance, but I kept killing off characters which was kind of killing the mood. I was about to start over for the fifth time when my phone vibrated with a text from Connor; I opened it and immediately smiled. His text read: “Hey, it’s getting late and I wanted to see if you wanted to talk tonight. I hope things were better for you today, thought about you a lot today.”

I checked the time; it was nearly half past ten. I had found out this morning that my manager at the smoothie shop wanted to change my shifts around, so tomorrow I had a longer shift in the morning but the next day off. I sent Connor a text in response: “Crazy day, and even crazier tomorrow; I don’t think I have time to talk tonight, but I’d love to hear from you. How was your day?”

I packed up my things; I had to face the possibility of running into Paolo. I was about to leave the lounge when my phone went off again; if was Connor: “I still feel bad about everything; your roommate was awful, but I should have never stuck my nose in it. I spent my day playing with Ivy and walking around; mom and I talked a little about future college plans.”

I waited until I was in the elevator to send him a text back: “I never got to tell you what I had majored in; I’m double majoring in art and writing. I’m at one of the art schools up here.”

I get another text when I’m entering the apartment; Paolo is sitting on the couch crying noisily, and when I come in he jumps up and tries to come up to me. He’s blubbering in excess as he tries to grab my arm; all I can make out is “Jude, please” and “I can explain”. I extricate myself from his suffocating grasp long enough to barricade myself in the bedroom. I pull out my phone: “That’s amazing Jude, I can’t wait to hear all about it. I hope you’re able to talk tomorrow, I really love hearing your voice.”

I smile, even with the sounds of Paolo sobbing hysterically on the other side of the door. I send a quick text to my friend Virginia asking if I can crash on her floor for the night, then I spent a minute composing my next text to Connor: “Why don’t I send you a picture to even the score, that way you can at least see me like I can see you. I’m sure I’ll have time tomorrow, so please get your hopes up-I want you to have something to look forward to.”

I grab sweatpants, a clean change of clothes, and my phone charger; after shoving it all in my bag I check my phone. I’ve got a message from Virginia confirming that I could come up to her room any time, so I bolt. It’s hard getting out of the apartment with Paolo crying and trying to hug me, but eventually I make it out and to the elevator. When the elevator starts moving my phone goes off again. It’s Connor: “I’m always looking forward to hearing from you Jude. I should get some sleep, you should do the same. Sweet dreams Jude and a purr from Ivy as well.”

I knock on Virginia’s door at a quarter to midnight; she’s in pajamas, but both she and her roommate are still up so I don’t feel too horrible. She lets me get changed in their bathroom and then I settle down on the floor with one of her spare pillows and a blanket. She tries to get me to talk, but when I tell her that Paolo and I are going through something I think she understands that I need time to process. Both girls are getting ready for bed, and I’m just lying on the floor smiling, when Virginia says “Must not be too bad, you’re smiling.”

“Not because of Paolo,” I tell her as she turns off the light. She scoffs, but doesn’t say anything.

Chapter Text

Mom and I spent the next day hanging out in her art studio with Ivy; mom showed me her actual work space, together we cleaned up a lot of her art supplies and organized it into the different mediums. She laughed, told me that it probably wouldn’t last, that it was something about artists, that they loved working in messes. We talked to dad on the phone; we took turns passing it between us and walking around. Mom and I went for a walk around the neighborhood around dust; I was really starting to feel better, but I still got worn out way too early-especially for someone who had been playing sports for more than seven years.

But the best part of my day had been the evening; Jude hadn’t texted me, so I did as he had suggested and sent him an inquisitive message. What resulted was a relatively light, interesting, and informative conversation. When we said good night, I didn’t go to bed; instead, I sat down and I wrote another letter to Jude.

Day Thirteen

Jude-

You deserve so much better Jude. That guy, your roommate, he isn’t someone you can trust, but maybe I’m not either. He lied to me, yes, but he stole from you; he stole your trust and your phone. But I lied to you for seven years; I left you, let you think that I didn’t love you, that I was straight, that I didn’t need you. All of those lies and I never bothered to tell you about anything that was true. Jude, you should be with someone who can give you the truth. I was so intimidated by you when we were younger; you weren’t afraid of being honest even when you knew that other kids and even parents were judging you. You are incredible Jude, and you need to be with someone who can stand by you and let you be incredible without hurting you or making your feel scared. I want to be that person, but maybe I’m just not there yet; I mean, there are things that I need to tell you if I want this to work out, but I can’t bring myself to say it just yet… And that’s selfish, because I’m not telling you something important because I know that it will hurt me. I want to be able to tell you once I’ve fixed it, so that maybe there’s a chance that we can move passed it. If I tell you now I don’t stand a chance. Every day I have to work to become the man that I think you deserve.

I went to bed that night with my brain still whirring about trying to come up with a way to deal with the situations that I had created for myself; if I couldn’t handle this, then there was no reason for me to think that I deserved a second chance with Jude.

I woke up with a head splitting ache in my forehead the next morning; I grumbled a good morning to mom as I sat down at the kitchen island. “You feeling okay there honey?” She asked as she placed a cheese omelet down in front of me and slid onto the stool next to me with her own plate.

“I’ve got a problem that I don’t know how to fix,” I mumble as I eat. “I was thinking about it last night and now I have a headache.”

Mom got a couple of aspirin for me after I had finished eating and put them down in front of me. “Here,” she said. “Take these with your orange juice and then tell me about
this problem.”

I swallow the little white pills and drink my orange juice pensively. “Well,” I sigh. “Big surprise, it has to do with Jude.” Mom chuckles as she begins washing the breakfast dishes. “I haven’t been completely honest with him…” I take a deep breath. “Or with you and dad.”

Mom looks over her shoulder at me, but her face is mostly curious so I just continue. “There’s someone back at school who I’m technically in a relationship with; not that relationship is the best term for what we were, but let’s just say they’re probably going to start wondering where I am.”

My mom’s laughter started after the word relationship and didn’t stop until she started hiccupping two minutes after I had stopped talking. She was having trouble breathing through all her laughter, so much so that she decided to slide back onto the stool beside me. She gripped one of my shoulders, a little too tightly, until she was able to take deep breaths again; she still hiccupped occasionally but she was mostly calm. “Connor, how could you not tell me or your father about this; I mean, we were the ones who had to deal with the school stuff when you were in the hospital.” Now that the hilarity had worn off a bit, she had a serious tone and her eyes were focused on me.

“I didn’t want to deal with it right away,” I shrugged hopelessly. “And then the longer I put it off the less pleasant the thought of dealing with it became.”

She nodded sympathetically. “I guess I can understand that, but you know you deal with it now especially if you want to have a future with Jude.” She sighed and ran a hand through her own sandy hair. “So, tell me about him.”

I groaned and let my head fall to the tabletop with a muted thud. “Her name is Sarah,” I say flatly. My mom choked on another laugh, trying to turn it into a concerned-sounding noise. I don’t bother looking at her, I already feel like an idiot. “I met her at a fraternity party three months ago; we’ve been hooking up on and off since then. She’s not the only one, but she’s the most recent and most persistent.”

Mom couldn’t hold in her giggles, so I just sat there and sulked silently with my forehead against the island’s marble top. “Well, your father always thought you’d be a lady-killer…” she said breathily as she tried to get her laughter under control again.

“Mom…” I whine pathetically.

“He’s going to be so proud…” she wheezed helplessly.

“Please, just help me think of something.” I groan.

It takes her a few more minutes before she can get her laughter out of her system. “Well, let’s see; a girl, named Sarah, that you met at a frat party…” She took a deep breath. “Any chance she’ll get distracted by something shiny? We could send her a mirror or an envelope of pennies.”

I finally lift my head up from the counter; mom had this hilarious grin stretching across her face. I let a chuckle escape on a sigh. “She’s a sorority girl, but she’s also a geology major. She’s going to be wondering where I am; she’s bound to show up at my dorm asking questions, and my roommates won’t care about giving her my information.”

Mom sighed, becoming very serious again. “Well, we’ll just have to make a little trip to campus to deal with some of these loose ends. How about we take a trip in two days; dad’s coming back tonight so that will give us plenty of time to get things together.”

I perked up at the news that dad would be back soon. “I just hope she doesn’t do anything crazy.” I can’t imagine what Sarah might do if she were to get my address or my phone number; that’s when I remember that I’m at mom’s house, and I don’t even know the address for this house. At least I know she won’t be able to just show up at the house looking for me.

“We should talk about your college plans dear,” my mother’s hand on my shoulder brought my attention back to the present. “I know you mentioned that you might not want to go back to school.”

I nod, quietly contemplating the idea of not returning to school. “I think I might need to figure a few things out about myself before I go back to school.”

“Like changing your major?” Mom asked curiously as we both stand up and head towards the living room, with Ivy chasing our heels.

We sit down on the couch; mom grabs the remote but doesn’t turn the television on. “I mean, I should probably think about what’s actually going to make me happy in the future instead of just picking things that I think will make me happy.”

My mom’s eyes shine a bit as we sit on the couch, legs crossed, Ivy in between us; she’s looking at me like I just told her I was getting married or something equally emotional. “I guess you’ve got a lot of thinking to do.” I smile back at her, a little embarrassed by the burst of emotions.

Chapter Text

I spend the next night crashing on Virginia’s floor as well; I bring her home a couple of free smoothies that I know she likes to say thank you, but I can’t help but feel guilty for taking up the space. I go through the next day in almost a normal fashion, which after all the drama with Paolo the last few days is a refreshing and rejuvenating thing. I manage to pay attention in my classes and talk to my professors and then go to work for a couple of hours; I even get my assignments done, or at least mostly done, when I get back to the apartment building. I read and reread the texts between Connor and I throughout the day, but I don’t send him another text until around ten, after I’ve finished packing up my things in the lounge.

I don’t want to go back to Virginia’s room yet, because I know she had a late class tonight which means that she’ll be up for at least another hour doing her own assignments and I didn’t want to bother her; this was the perfect time to see if Connor wanted to talk some more. I leaned back in one of the comfier chairs in the lounge and pulled out my phone to type up a text: “I’ve finished being an adult for the day, feel like talking for a while?”

I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking it might take Connor a little while to get my text and respond. Two minutes later my phone went off with a text from him: “Call me anytime Jude, I’ve missed you.”

I smile as I pull up his contact information and hit the call button. There were two rings before I heard Connor pick up.

“Hey there,” his voice was soft and smiley, even over the phone. “Hope your day was better.”

I smile too, I just can’t help it. “Yeah, it was thanks. I’m staying with my friend Virginia till my room transfer comes through, which hopefully will happen in the next couple of days.”

“Have I mentioned I’m sorry for having caused this particular problem lately?” Connor asked sheepishly.

I chuckle softly before I respond. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about Connor,” I breathe heavily. “I had another run in with Paolo yesterday and it didn’t go very well; I guess its better that I find out now rather than later.”

Connor made a whimpering sound, but that was soon drowned out by a large amount purring; it sounded like it was sitting on Connor’s phone. I started laughing hysterically, which was echoed by Connor. “I assume that’s Ivy trying to console you?” I manage to get out through fits of giggles.

Connor doesn’t respond right away, but there’s plenty of purring and laughter on his side of the phone. “Yeah, she decided that she needed a head scratch which turned into a belly rub and now she’s a purring maniac.” His voice is higher and lighter; suddenly, I wish I could give Ivy some love too if she was cheering up Connor.

“She sounds like a cross between a furby and a guinea pig,” I laugh.

“Oh my gosh,” Connor sighs. “I remember those, they were so creepy. She’s way too cute to be referred to as having any resemblance to one of those.”

“You’re right,” I say remorsefully. “That’s not what I meant; she just sounds like a little motor boat.”

Connor chuckles, there’s a disgruntled meow, and then Connor speaks again. “Now she’s mad cause I got off my bed and now I’m too far away from her to pet her.”

“I think I might be a bit grumpy too,” I say too quickly, and the laugh that it came out on soon turned into a groan of embarrassment. “I…”

Connor’s laughter dies as well, but it turns into a sharp inhale. “Jude,” and my name on his lips makes my stomach flutter. “It’s okay.”

But it’s not, because he’s Connor and I miss him and he doesn’t know that; and at this point, I don’t even know why I haven’t told him, but some it has to do with making him suffer just a little. But I’m suffering now too. “Connor,” and suddenly that annoying thing happened where my brain and my mouth don’t operate on the same frequency. “I…I meant that…If I was Ivy. God, I…She must be…”

Connor giggled at my lameness. “Jude,” he said and I went silent. “I know what you meant, don’t freak out.” I groan again; he laughs again. “Please, it was cute; I loved it, so don’t worry.”

I sigh deeply, but the smile on my face is so powerful that my cheeks start to ache. “I think that’s a new personal best for me; completely embarrassed myself within less than twenty-four hours of making a new friend.”

There’s a solemn silence for a heartbeat. “Oh, um…”

Great, I think, now I’ve made him feel as if he’s just a stranger to me. “I mean,” I say quickly, still very flustered from before. “Remember when we first met, I was so awkward that I told you that blatant lie about my biological father; you saw right through it, and we sat there in awkward silence for a full ten minutes. Remember?” I ask hoping for a positive reaction.

A small chuckle reassured me that he did remember, so I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, you were a terrible liar back then. Have you gotten any better at that?” His smile was evident in his voice again, and I loved it.

“I mean I guess,” I say truthfully. “I try not to, gives me stomach aches. You might find this funny,” I say lightly; I hope if I down play it, then he’ll see that it’s nothing to worry about. “But I spent senior year of high school and freshman year of college dating girls; the family refers to it as my “straight phase” but I just call it my “insane phase”. God, I think I ate my weight in antacids those two years.”

There’s a really quiet giggle, and I’m worried for a moment that it’s too much too soon and that he’s upset; a few seconds later, Connor speaks again. “Jude, you don’t have to do that; I spent twenty-one years trying to be someone I wasn’t. Two years is nothing, and I’m sure it was painful for everyone involved; but you don’t need to worry about me. I wish I could laugh about my “insane phase”, but it’s all too fresh right now.”

I take a breath to calm my nerves, when suddenly I realize something. “I almost forgot, hold on just a second.” I put Connor on hold and turn on my phone’s camera. I fix my hair and tilt the device this way and that until I’m happy with the lighting and snap a selfie. I send it to Connor before I put my phone back to my ear.

“What was…” then there’s a chime and Connor goes quiet. I wait till I hear him inhale to smile. “Jude, thank you.” His words are so sincere, my smile falters as I blush deeply.

“I haven’t shaved in a couple of days, which isn’t really me, but…” I’m about to defend my choice of shirt when Connor cuts me off.

“You’re gorgeous Jude,” and my breath disappears in my throat. “Absolutely stunning, no wonder your roommate went crazy on you; I bet the guys are lined up to get a date with you.”

I’m completely overwhelmed by his sincerity and his loving tone; but what really strikes me down is the fact that I can’t bring myself to receive his affection when I can’t bring myself to return it. I feel the sudden need to be alone and dwell on my emotions, possibly make a pro and con list. I want to feel like I can have an entire, unhindered, conversation with Connor; that means I need to really decide what I’m feeling for him.

“Hey Connor,” I say, trying to keep my internal conflict internal. “I’ve got to get going; I don’t want to keep Virginia waiting up for me. I’ll text you tomorrow when I find out my work schedule, okay?”

I hear him sigh deeply, and I wonder if he’s still staring at my picture. “Sounds fair, and I hope you hear from whoever’s in charge of the transfer soon; your friend must be a gem for letting you crash with her.”

“Good night Connor.”

I wait, smile still on my face, and I’m not disappointed. “Sweet dreams Jude.”

I don’t like hanging up on Connor; I wish we could talk until one of us falls asleep, and even then I feel my stomach curl in on itself with a happy feeling. Maybe, I don’t just miss Connor, I think as I grab my bag and make my way back to Virginia’s room. It’s the first time that the thought of feeling something for Connor hasn’t been accompanied by an equal amount of dread and self-loathing. By the time I’m knocking on Virginia’s door I’ve decided that if anything, for now, I can accept the fact that the Connor I’m getting to know now makes me happy.

Chapter Text

The next morning as I’m waking up I hear the sounds of my mother and father speaking in the kitchen; so I pad out of my bedroom and smile as I see both of them sitting at the kitchen island talking over their coffee cups. My father turns to me, since he’s got his back to; his stern smile is what makes me hesitate as I’m coming over to them.

“So I hear that you’ve got a little girlfriend problem.” He says flatly as I take the stool to his left; I wince, and for the first time I can’t tell if it’s because of the staples or the pain that my father’s disappointment caused.

“I guess you told him then mom?” I ask shyly, but in actuality I had wanted to be the one to tell him; I was turning over a new leaf, which meant I had to handle the consequences of my actions. That involved being mature and giving people the truth myself.

To her credit, mom looked slightly ashamed after that. “Sorry sweetie, didn’t know you wanted to be the one to tell him.” And brusquely she followed that with; “What do you want for breakfast?” and turned to the fridge.

I clear my throat and turn to look at my dad; his face is hard to read, but I can tell he’s not in any mood for jokes or light-heartedness. “Sarah is hardly what I would call a girlfriend,” I began.

I was promptly cut off by my father’s eyes narrowing and a clipped remark. “That does nothing to make this situation any better Connor.”

I sigh; I had to get through this, and I just had to deal with the humiliation and judgement. “What I’m saying is that hopefully I won’t need to deal with as much drama as with a girlfriend.”

My father ran a hand through his hair, an exasperated noise escaping his mouth. “God, Connor, please tell me you were at least smart enough to use protection; we’re not going to show up on campus and find her pregnant, are we?”

I shiver at the thought; if I were being completely honest, most of my rendezvous with Sarah were under the influence of alcohol. “I tried to be as careful as possible,” I whisper in defeat. “I screwed up, trying to be some guy I wasn’t; I…” I can barely breathe as I say it. “I may not have always been a hundred percent coherent when I was with Sarah.”

I feel as if the world is tilting and I can’t look at my dad anymore, not that he’s really been making eye contact with me; I bow my head between my arms and breathe into the space between me and the kitchen island, my eyes closed and my body tense. I feel like I might throw up, and the smell of mom cooking bacon is not helping. “Okay Connor,” my dad said exasperatedly. “We need to have a little talk. Come with me.”

My dad’s heavy hand on my shoulder and the slight scrap of his stool as it moved told me that he was moving; I looked up and saw him walking out the kitchen door onto the back patio. I got up and slowly followed him outside, where he was already sitting on one of patio chairs that were shaded under the wooden awning. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt, but he was also seething under the surface. He had pulled out his chair so that he could rest his elbows on his knees and hang his head down; he ran his hands into his hair and breathed heavily through his nose.

“Okay Connor,” he sighs after I manage to take a seat as far away from him as possible. “I need to know right now; is Sarah the only one you’ve been intimate with while you’ve been at school? I mean, is there a possibility that you’ve had unprotected sex with other people?”

I feel my face flush and I decide to focus on my shoes. My breath hitches before I speak. “There were others.”

My dad sighed again, his head hung between his knees for a moment before it pops up and he straightens up. “Well, thank you for being honest.”

“Really?” I ask, my body almost shaking from the relief and shock that were converging in my body.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “And I guess now we know what we’re going to do today.”

I cock my eyebrow and utter a questioning “Huh?” and dad chuckles at my confusion.

“Sorry buddy,” he smiles sadly. “But we’re going to have to get you tested for STIs, and we can’t put it off. If we’re going to visit campus tomorrow then we need to get this done today.”

Dad gets up, and as he’s walking back into the house he pats my shoulder again; this time, I’m in such shock that I can’t really feel the heavy weight of his judgement. I sit out of the patio for another couple of minutes, trying to get my head around the fact that my dad and I had just talked about my sex life; the fact that I hadn’t burst into flames from sheer embarrassment alone was a miracle. When I finally went back inside, mom and dad were talking again, this time over breakfast. I couldn’t stomach anything more than orange juice, and the just the thought that dad was telling mom about what we were going to do today made my stomach curl into a knot.

I excused myself after only a few minutes of awkward silence; I figured they really just wanted to continue their talk and I just wanted to be anywhere but there. I went into my room to get changed for the day, continually groaning at the repeated revelation that I needed to get tested for STIs; every time I would realize just what I had done, I would kick myself internally.

When I walked out of my room a little later my dad was waiting for me in the kitchen, thankfully by himself. “You ready?” He asked, trying to smile as I walked over to him. He was failing miserably at trying to comfort me, but it wasn’t his fault; I could barely forgive myself for this, how was I supposed to let him forgive me.

I nodded solemnly, my eyes fixed on my shoes. He takes the hint and we proceed in silence; we don’t speak until he pulls into the parking lot of a health clinic twenty minutes later. “Is this the place?” I ask in a hushed tone. The building looks more like an office building than a medical facility.

“Yep,” he says as he gets out of the car. He’s opening my door before I can even register that he’s coming with me. He goes before me, opens the door, and once we’re inside he steps up to the glace partition that a nurse is waiting behind. I just stand there, numb, in the middle of a sparsely decorated waiting room.

“Connor,” my dad’s voice, and the fact that he’s standing right in front of me, jerk me back into the moment; I’m still numb, and my knees are slightly shaky. “Why don’t you sit down with me and help me fill out the forms.” I nod dumbly and follow him as he sits down in one of the chairs.

It’s a whole other wave of embarrassment as my dad whispers questions to me from the forms and I have to whisper back my responses. He asks me things like how many sexual partners I’ve had; I give him an estimate, seeing as I wasn’t always aware of things. He has to ask me how many female and how many male partners, and I tell him and I feel like dying. He asks me questions about the last three to four months, about how many times I’ve had sex and how many times it was unprotected; this time, when I answer, I feel as if I might start crying. He goes through a list of possible symptoms, and thankfully I can tell him not to check any of those boxes. It’s a full twenty minutes of utter humiliation before he’s finished and he goes back up to the nurse behind the glass.

We wait another ten minutes in the waiting room before another nurse calls my name and dad and I are escorted into a private medical room. I guess we’re lucky that this clinic isn’t very busy, because I feel nauseous, which isn’t helped when the nurse puts a tourniquet on my arm and draws my blood. She’s nice enough, but it all just rolls off of me like rain off a roof.

We follow her from that room into another room where she has me sit on a medical table so she can take all my vitals. She smiles, says someone will be with us shortly, and leaves. Dad stands, or kind of shuffles from one foot to the other, in a corner of the room while I try to remind myself that breathing is an important thing in life.

I’m relieved when the doctor comes in; she’s not as nice as the nurse, and for some reason that hurts. She’s young, tall, and brusque with her responses. Dad does most, if not all, of the talking; which is fine, because it’s a quick meeting. The doctor takes a look at my file, says that my results will be ready in a week, and that if I need to come back in they will call to set up an appointment-if not, then they’ll call to let us know I’m fine.

It isn’t until we’re back in the car and dad turns to me and says “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” that I fall apart. I just break into a million pieces; crying so hard that I can’t breathe and sometimes I don’t even make any sounds. Dad tries to hug me over the center console, but it’s awkward and a little painful for both of us. I sob until I can tell there are no more tears and yet I’m still crying. When I’ve calmed down to the point where I’m randomly sniffling and only occasionally racked by dry sobs, dad starts the car and drives us home. It’s a different kind of quiet on the drive back, and it only makes my head spin even more.

We get home and dad has to help me inside because I’m still crying and my legs don’t seem to want to work. I feel like a limp noodle as he helps me into my room and tucks me into my bed. I’m still quietly weeping as he brushes my hair out of my eyes and kisses my forehead.

“It’s going to be alright Connor,” he whispers as he rubs my back. “We’ll get through this, no matter what those tests say. Just get some rest for now.”

He flicks my light off as he leaves my room, the light from the hallway sending a beam through the crack underneath the door. I sob a bit more before I fall asleep, and I can’t help but see that my alarm clock reads noon; all this, and it isn’t even half way through the day.

Chapter Text

I wake up early the next morning; Virginia and her roommate don’t have early classes, and they both work at galleries so they work mostly nights, which means that they’re asleep when I wake up. I change quietly in the bathroom, making a mental note to stop by my room later to grab some fresh things and maybe shower; I know Paolo’s schedule pretty well, so hopefully I can avoid running into him. When I’m in decent shape, I scribble a note for Virginia and leave it taped to her coffee mug; I head out into the hallway and take a deep breath.

I make my way out of the apartment building and into the chilly San Francisco February air, where the fog is still clinging to the buildings to give the city a few more minutes of sleep. I don’t’ have work today, but I do need to stop by the shop to check my schedule for the next week and to pick up my check for the past two weeks’ salary. I decide to walk this morning; it’s cool, and the shop isn’t so far away. The walk gives me a chance to think about Connor; I instinctually check my phone, but it’s only seven in the morning, so I’m not surprised that I don’t have any texts from him yet.

The walk only takes me twenty minutes, which is really pushing my ability to dawdle. When I get there, I have to go in through the back because the shop doesn’t open officially until eight. The shop is pretty quiet, the morning shift team will be arriving in ten minutes to prep for the morning rush; I hoped to be out of here before that so I wasn’t in the way. I went into the break room where the only other early bird was sitting there, sitting his coffee.

“Hey Jess,” I say as I head toward the schedule that’s posted on a cork board on the far wall.

“Hey,” he says between sips of coffee. “You’re not working today, why are you in so early?” He’s a thirty-something that bounces around from one college campus to another, taking classes or crashing lectures. It might have been pathetic, if I hadn’t been aware that Jess was also a well-known street artist by the name “Phantom”; it had taken me months to earn his trust enough for him to tell me about his secret identity. Ever since then, he and I had bonded over art, which meant we were friends.

“Came in to check the schedule and pick up my paycheck,” I say as I look at the board numbly.

“Spit it out,” Jess says as he puts his coffee cup down heavily. “You never come in this early, even for your paycheck. What’s going on with you; I haven’t seen you at all this semester, since you decided to switch shifts.” Jess came to stand beside me, but I was too tired to face him.

I stared at the board so all Jess could see was my profile. “I’m just dealing with a lot of roommate stuff right now; I didn’t feel like sticking around this morning and dealing with it.”

I stand there, like a stone, as Jess just stares at the side of my face. “Do you realize you’ve been staring at that piece of paper for five minutes?” He finally says.

I sigh, exasperated, as Jess puts a hand on my shoulder and guides me over to the table that he was sitting at. I sit down quietly in a chair opposite his, and look the man in the eye for the first time. “Sorry,” I murmur. “There’s been a lot of stuff going on with me.”

Jess picks his coffee mug again. “Tell me about it; maybe I’ll get a painting out of it. Pain is so inspirational.”

I tell him about Paolo and putting in for a room transfer, but I leave out the bit about Connor for now. He sits, sipping his coffee, taking it all in. I can hear the other employees starting to come in, so I clam up. “Listen,” Jess says as he finishes his coffee and takes his mug over to the sink in the breakroom. “I have to get the team started on prep, but why don’t we meet up tomorrow night at Cup of Beans and talk some more?”

I’m still sitting at the table, but I nodded. He rinsed his mug and put it on the counter to dry. “Nine sound good?” He asked as he turned back to me; his face is stern, and I recognize the signs of him thinking about a painting.

“Yeah,” I say and check my phone; it’s almost a quarter to eight, I should be heading to campus. “I’ll see you then; I’ve got to go.”

Jess pats my back as I get up to leave. “Don’t forget your schedule and your pay check,” Jess says as he exits the breakroom and heads into the shop. I groan, quickly jot down my schedule for the next week and pick up my paycheck from the little basket of envelops that are sitting under the corkboard.

I leave the shop and grab the next bus that’s heading in the direction that I need to go; I don’t have class for another couple of hours, but I want to meet up with my creative writing professor and get his opinion of my latest work. I get to campus without any problems; it’s quiet, the fog is starting to lift, and there aren’t a lot of students around because art students tend to like sleeping in. I head into the refurbished old house that sits in the center of campus; most of the professors’ offices are in there, including my creative writing professor’s.

It’s an old house, so there’s no elevator and three floors; I spend an hour hanging out on the second floor talking to my creative writing professor as well as my character design professor. My writing professor likes what I have to show him, but he wants me to push myself so he gives me a book of writing prompts and tells me to pick a couple, something challenging, and come back next week so we can review those. He and I are sitting at the conference table on the second floor discussing subtle plot twists when my design professor was walking by the room. By the time I had to leave, I was feeling better than I had in the past three days; at least, as far as school was concerned.

I enjoyed classes and even had lunch with a couple of my friends from my writing class. For San Francisco, the day was bright and warm; I was out of my sweatshirt and relaxing on a sunny patch of grass on campus by one in the afternoon. I’m done with class by three, so I decide to make a stop back at the apartment building to check my mail box and sneak into the apartment.

Paolo is supposed to be in his History of Asian Art lecture, so I take my time. I head up to the room before I look at the things I’ve pulled out of my mail box; it’s quiet as I ease the door to the apartment open, so I exhale in relief as I walk inside. I put down my bag and the mail so I could get some more of my things together; a couple of shirts, my toiletries kit, a clean pair of pajamas and some pants. If I remember correctly, Paolo isn’t due back for another hour or so; I decide to risk it and I jump into the shower.

I don’t feel at ease until I’m out of the shower and dressed in clean close; I never expected to feel like such a criminal in my own apartment, but sneaking around like this make me feel anxious. I took a couple of deep breaths to calm down, but I was getting jittery. The last thing I wanted was for Paolo to come in and get emotional all over again.

I grabbed my stuff and bolted out of the apartment and went over to Virginia’s. I was lucky; Virginia’s roommate was in, so she let me in and I dropped off my stuff. I didn’t have any other classes, but I need to do some research in the library on campus; I had an assignment having to do with character traits and cross-overs within the media and the school had a huge archive of movies and television shows. I also had a hunch that Virginia’s roommate was going to be having her boyfriend over, and I didn’t want to ruin that for her.

I took my bag and the mail and left the apartment just as the sun was starting to dip below the cloud bank and shine against the mirror buildings. The sun was such a brilliant force that I had to hide my eyes for most of the bus ride back to campus. It wasn’t until I was situated in a study carol at the library that I realized I hadn’t looked at my mail.

I had a letter from Mama, and it felt thick, a post card from my father, a letter from Taylor, and another letter from Res-Life. My breath hitches in my throat as I rip open the envelop; inside is a letter that seems so formal. I read it through, and I make myself read it slowly…

Dear Jude Adams-Foster,

Your transfer request is in the process of being formalized; as the head of the Residence Life Department, I, Heather Glenn, have taken it upon myself to find you a suitable transfer. However, while I was reviewing your transfer request, I found that your roommate has also filed for a room transfer. This, along with the fact that you filed a formal grievance, gives me grounds to request that the both of you be present for a sit down. I will be sending similar information to your roommate; you will both be required to sit down with myself and one of the campus counselors. If, after that, you both still wish to go through with the transfer then you will have to come to an agreement on which one of you will be transferring and which one of you will be staying in your current dorm situation. Please contact the Residence Life office to make an appointment for this conference; the sooner, the better.

Sincerely,

Heather Glenn

I sighed and slouched down into my chair, closed my eyes, and tried to think of things that could be worse than this. I just hope that Paolo doesn’t cause too much of a scene; maybe he’ll be on his best behavior because we’ll be in public. I softly groan; he’s going to bring up our almost-relationship that me might have had if he hadn’t flipped out. I wonder if I’ll get penalized for that, or if they’ll speed up the transfer because of that; I just hoped that I could avoid talking about my other almost-relationship. Connor and I were “just friends” officially, but if Paolo brought up his jealousy…

I shook my head, trying to shake off the damper that this was causing; I had been having such a good day before this, the only thing that could have made it better…

That’s when I took out my phone and checked it; I had a text from Jesus, reminding me to call him this weekend about surprising moms for their anniversary, but nothing from Connor. I spent a good five minutes debating whether or not to call him, but I decide that since I’m already at the library I should try to get through my work. So, I go through the stacks and pick out a couple of things that I think will help me with the assignment that I’m working on and set to work; I needed to create a character, both biographically as well as artistically, that melded two or more different characters within pop culture.

I was in the middle of sketching out my interpretation of an Oliver Queen and Mary Queen of Scots mix-up when I heard my phone buzzing through my headphones; I paused my music just in time for the call to go to voicemail. When I looked at the caller ID I was shocked; Connor had never called me before, it was always me who called him. I was going to call him right back, but I was in the library; by the time I had stepped outside, there was a voicemail.

I dialed my voicemail and held my breath. Connor’s voice was shaky, and I could hear him trembling. “Jude,” he sniffled wetly. “Jude, I need to talk to you.” He sounded like he was whimpering through tears; I felt my heart ripping apart. “I-I-I’m having a-a-really bad day. I just…” There’s another sniffle. “Co-Could you call me? I know-you’re busy, bu-bu-but I really need…” There’s the sound of a throat being cleared and a soft sob. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I shouldn’t have called.” And then there’s a click. And Connor’s voice is gone.

Chapter Text

I woke up later than I thought; my eyes crusted shut and my head throbbing. I sat up and pushed off all my blankets, suddenly very warm; my room was still mostly dark, so I rubbed my face to wake up. My skin was oily and sticky, my eyelashes were caked with dry tears, and my nose is stuffy. I yawn and stretch, but I still feel shaky and close to tears. When I pick up my phone, I blink a couple of times to focus my vision; the time is nine, closing in on ten.

I slowly ease my feet off the bed and slide to the ground, the soft carpet tickling the soles of my feet; then I make my way through the dim light of the house. Mom and dad must be asleep, because all the lights are off and everything’s quiet; I walk into the kitchen, my stomach suddenly growling. Maybe food will help me settle down; my eyes feel fuzzy, and yet I can feel the tears that are on the verge of trickling down my face.

Once I’ve eaten something and drunk some water I head back to my room quietly, everything from the day swirling around in my head. I guess Ivy is asleep in my mom’s room tonight, but I could have really used that little fur ball; Ivy was a ball of energy, but she was also the closest thing to a friend I had at the moment. When I got back to my room I eased back onto the bed, but I was warm and awake; I crossed my legs and pulled my phone out. I figured I could play some games to kill the time and maybe that would help, but the longer I sat there the more emotions I could feel bubbling up inside my chest.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was dialing Jude’s number; to make matters worse, I was sobbing openly, sniffling uncontrollably, and my eyes were completely blurred by tears. I heard it ring, each time making my heart clench, and then it went to voicemail. I was aware of babbling and blubbering nonsensically, there was sniffling and a strangled voice that barely resembled mine, and then I slowly came to my senses. I made a quick apology and hung up before I flopped, face-down, onto my comforter.

I sobbed for a bit, both humiliated and terrified, but my plan to simply dissolve into darkness was interrupted; my phone started buzzing beside my head, one look at the screen and I felt my stomach drop… Jude.

I take a couple of shaky breaths before I hold one and press the answer button; I place my phone next to my ear. I exhale as I hear Jude breathing on the other side of the phone.

“Connor?” His voice is full of concern, verging on panic.

“Jude?” My voice sounds like it’s drowning in tears.

“Connor, talk to me.” Jude breathes. “What’s wrong, tell me; we can talk it through.”

I sniffle before I speak. “I’m scared Jude; really scared.”

Jude takes a deep breath; I can hear it through the phone. “What’s scaring you Connor; tell me.”

I don’t want to, having this conversation with Jude is possibly my worst nightmare; but he called me back, he wants to help. “I had to get tested today,” I whisper. “I felt so numb going through it; and then everything just fell apart.” My voice turns into a whimper.

Jude inhales sharply and I grit my teeth to stop from sobbing. “What were you tested for Connor?” I feel like he’s leading me, baby steps until I can spit it out.

“Sexually transmitted Infections,” I whimper, the tears trickling down my cheeks.

Jude was silent for the longest second of my life. “Well,” he said slowly. “It’s good that you’re being safe.”

I stifle a stressful laugh. “Too little, too late; Jude, I was so stupid. I can’t believe I was such an idiot.” I groan as I lay back on my bed.

Jude sounds a little far away, but still concerned. “What do you mean? College students hook up, so what?” His voice was laced with bitterness, and it made me cry freely.

“Jude,” I cried. “Jude, I was so messed up. I don’t even remember half of the people I hooked up, with all the booze and pills…” I swallow down a sob; I never wanted him to know, never wanted anyone to know.

I can’t seem to breathe without crying. Jude, however, is back to his concerned voice. “Connor,” he said smoothly. “I know that it seems intimidating; the first time is always scary, but it’s better that you find out now. I’ve been tested before, just to be safe; once you get your results, you’ll feel so relieved.”

I feel my breath rattling in my chest. “But what if I test positive?”

Jude sighs heavily, and I feel like he’s already thought about that. “Then you can deal with it, at least you didn’t get anyone pregnant.” His voice lifts; he’s trying to make a joke.

I groan and another wave of tears leak out of my eyes. “Not so sure about that,” I whimper.

It’s Jude’s turn to groan. “So, what, Connor; are you gay or bi or what?” He sounds angry, still concerned, but angry. “I mean, you’re desperate to reconnect with me, you say things that make me feel…things…And then you tell me that you were so messed up, that in the past seven years, you’ve slept with both men and women…What should I be thinking here?”

I take a breath before I speak. “Jude, please, I know that we’re still figuring things out, but I needed my friend and I couldn’t bear to lie to you about this. I didn’t want to hurt you, and I didn’t want to lose you again, but I was scare and I needed to hear your voice.” I sniffle and wipe my nose. “Please Jude, I know that I made a lot of mistakes and I’m still figuring a lot of things out, but please…I’ve only just begun to put my life back together and that means that I have to deal with all of the things I did wrong…So I can do better.”

I ball my eyes out for a few minutes, unable to catch my breath; I can hear Jude on his side taking slow breaths. “You’re going to be okay Connor,” he finally says. “You’re really being mature about all of this, even though you’re scared and falling apart.” He sighs as I sniffle. “And I’m glad you didn’t lie to me, even if it hurt to hear.”

He goes quiet for a minute before he speaks again, and his voice is sweet and soothing. “I’m really proud of you Connor; you’ve gone through so much.” Then he clears his throat. “And while we’re getting all confessional, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

I inhale sharply, holding my breath as I imagine him; he doesn’t seem so angry any more, maybe he’s even smiling. “I miss you Connor,” and I whimper as I bite my lip. “I should have told you sooner, but I was being spiteful. I miss you, so much.”

“Oh Jude,” I sigh. “I don’t know what to say…”

He chuckles. “Are you lying down?” He asks and the sudden change in topic has me confused. When I don’t respond right away Jude continues. “Just get nice and comfy, relax a bit.”

“But…”

I can hear his smile. “I’m going to stay on the phone with you until you calm down and can get some sleep.”

“But…”

“Connor,” he says firmly. “Let me do this for you, please.”

I feel my lips tug up. “But, what about school?”

“You’re more important right now.”

Chapter Text

I had stayed on the phone with Connor for an hour; while he was lying down and his breathing was calming, I paced up and down the hallway outside the library. When I was sure he had fallen asleep, or at least was well on his way to unconsciousness, I took a few minutes to just listen to his steady breathing. Connor Stevens, I thought, would be the only person who could break my heart and I’d love him ten times harder for it.

I hung up eventually and went back inside to grab my stuff; it was late, later than I had intended to stay at the library. I took the bus back to the apartment building, which was lucky because the bus would have stopped running if I had been any later. I trudged through the lobby and into the elevator without so much as a glance at my fellow students; it was almost the weekend, which for me meant work and homework, but for most it meant parties and day trips to the beach. All I could think about as I let the elevator carry me up to Virginia’s floor was how broken Connor sounded. Virginia answered her door with a smile, but it fell as soon as she saw me; I guess I looked as broken as Connor sounded.

She ushered me inside her room, and even though I protested, she made us both a cup of hot tea and she sat me down to talk. It was hard at first, talking about what Paolo had done and then talking about how he was making it ten times harder with his own transfer request; but by the time I got totaling about Connor, I was just too exhausted and emotional to care. I didn’t tell her everything, because even though Virginia’s a good friend, some things are personal; I didn’t tell her much about Connor other than he was an ex from a long time ago who had resurfaced and that I was really missing him now. By the time I was finished, so was my tea, and my head was swimming in wonderful warm feelings of relief and reassurance; Virginia, unlike moms, hadn’t said a word against Connor.

Virginia let me go to sleep after she saw my eyelids drooping; I thanked her for the tea before I got ready and drifted off to sleep on her floor for the fourth day in a row. The next morning I went back down to the Res-Lif office early again to speak to someone about setting up a time for the conference; turns out that Paolo hadn’t come in to talk to them yet, so all I could do was leave my availability for the next week and hope that I got a phone call in the next day.

I was leaving the office when my shoulder bumped whoever was in the hallway trying to head into the office; I quickly jolted back when I saw that it was Paolo that i had back into. He looked ragged; his eyes had huge bruise-like blotches under them and his normally tan skin looked pale and thin. When he realized that it was me his eyes went wide and he tried to hold onto my arm, but I pulled it away and took a step away from him.

“Jude,” he breathed and tried to move closer to me. I took another step away. “Jude, please, this is getting ridiculous.” He huffed a laugh, but it grated against my eardrum.

“I have to go,” I say flatly as I turn away from the office.

I don’t even get the chance to walk away from him; Paolo side steps in front of me. “Look, we both know that I did a stupid thing, but come on Jude it’s been almost a week. When are we going to get over this?” I could hear the desperation in his voice as he rung his hands together, a envelop crunched between them. “I mean, this conference is a joke, you know we’re just going through a rough spot.” He was practically shaking in front of me.

I quirked my eyebrow as I stepped backwards into the wall. “Look Paolo,” I stammer before I shake off the shock of his abruptness. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but this isn't some spat between a couple; you crossed a line, and I don’t think I can get passed that. Now, I’ll see you at the conference.” I straighten up and use all my confidence to brush past him on my way toward the lobby.

I was was walking toward the exit when I heard Paolo yell at me from the hallway. “Stop being such a dick Jude,” and I cringed at the scene he was making. I kept walking. “You’ll regret this; I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you…” And then I was outside, taking deep breaths, fighting down my urge to go back in there and slug him.

I started walking to the smoothie shop; it was Friday so the orders were sporadic but the customers were happy because the weekend was almost here. I made myself a strawberry smoothie with extra strawberries, we had gotten a particularly nice supply, and drizzled chocolate sauce over the top as an extra treat. Then I headed to campus for my one Friday class; it was a color and design course, which meant I got to spend four hours playing with paint and chalk and sketching out abstract concepts. By the time class was done, I was feeling a lot more relaxed even though I still kind of wanted punch Paolo. I had five hours to kill before I had to meet Jess at the coffee house, so I decided to head back to the library and try to finish my assignment from the other night.

I was nearly finished with my character design, a female I was calling “the Verdant Lady”, when my phone buzzed. I grabbed for it immediately, afraid that it might be Connor calling again, but it was a text from Jess: “Still up for nine at Cup of Beans?”

I send him back a text, making sure to check the time before hitting send: “Sure thing.” It’s only a little past seven, so I have plenty of time to finish adding the color to my sketch.

A few minutes later I get another text from Jess: “Wear comfortable shoes and a dark jacket, you’re going to help me with a piece after coffee.”

I smile, Jess has never taken me along with him when he’s done a piece. I send him a text back: “As long as we don’t spend the weekend in jail.”

I’m just starting to add different shades of green to the skirt on my character when I get a final text from Jess: “Your life is too stable, you could use some rattling.”

I finish putting color on my character sketch and safely stow her in a page protector and then slide her into my portfolio; then I head back to the apartments to drop off my school things and pick up my jacket. I make sure to leave a note with Virginia’s roommate letting her know that I might be later then usual and i apologize in advance for waking her up in the middle of the night to let me in. Cup of Beans is only two blocks away and around a corner, so I make sure I have my cell phone and walk through the darkening city streets.

“Hey,” Jess greets me warmly as I walk into the warm coffee house; he stands up from the little table he’s gotten for us, claps me on the shoulder and smiles brightly. “I ordered you a cappuccino with an extra shot; hope that works for you.” He sat down and I took the chair opposite from him.

I laugh and pick up the warm mug filled to the brim with milky coffee. “Perfect, just what I needed. Thank you man,” I say and then take a big sip.

He sips his own beverage, an herbal tea most likely, and chuckled. “How is it possible that in like twenty-four hours you’ve managed to look even more ragged and stressed out?”

I laugh into my coffee and try not to choke. “Life just keeps on turning,” I say as I put down my cup down and run a hand through my hair.

“Tell me about it,” he says seriously. I squirm a bit, uncomfortable and trying to figure out if I should jus tell Jess about Connor and how much I wish I could have been with him last night. Jess doesn’t back down, doesn’t even say anything else, just stares at me over the rim of his mug. Then it hits me, maybe this is part of his plan; he’s sharing a secret with me, so now it’s my turn to share with him.

“Fine,” I sigh. I tell him about Connor and the stress he’d gone through yesterday, but mostly I tell him about how I’ve been feeling with all of this lately. Jess just takes it in, listening and sipping his drink, until i talk myself into silence.

“Sounds like you still love him,” he says as I take a dump of my coffee. It should surprise me, make me sputter in denial, start trying to convince him that he’s wrong; instead I just stare at him and sigh dreamily. “You got it bad man, and with everything that you two have been through its not going to be easy.”

“You’re telling me,” I groan as I finish my drink. “I ran into Paolo this morning to make my life complete.”

Jess chuckled as he put down his mug; we had been sitting and talking for over an hour, most of the shop is empty now. “Time to get going man,” he says standing up. “If we want to get any sleep tonight, we need to get moving.”

I wonder how long Jess has been doing this as I follow him along streets that are dark and ominous; he doesn’t have any supplies on him, and he doesn’t look like he’s lost at all as we move through the Market district and into a quiet little neighborhood park. It isn’t until we walk onto the grass that Jess starts to look unnerved. He ducks under one of the bushes that lines the park; there’s a lot of rustling, then he pulls out two large black duffel bags. “Here,” he says and hangs me one. It’s heavy and I can hear spray paint cans rattling around inside, though they’re muffled.

I figure that he’s going to do his piece on the side of one of the flanking buildings, which is kind of neat because then it’s like a community mural; but Jess isn't known for his work being fluffy, the Phantom usually has a statement to make. Which explains why we sling the duffel bags over our shoulders and exit the other side of the park and head towards the piers and the water. We become shadows as Jess leads me to a run down looking pier; the wood echoes each step we take and mixes with the sounds of the water underneath it. “We’re here,” Jess says, coming to a stop next to the abandoned pier building that runs at least the length of two football fields along the water.

Chapter Text

Jess puts me to work right away; he gives me an idea of what he wants, then hands me a couple of cans of spray paint. I’m supposed paint the base, the background, for Jess’s painting that will go over it; and what really surprises me is that he gives me such freedom with it. I start spraying, blending blobs of blues with teal and aqua and even green; Jess is busy behind me, preparing the rest of the painting. Jess didn’t give me specifics, so I keep going, spraying every inch the I can reach of the wall, until I’ve used up the cans of paint that Jess gave me; it’s relaxing to get lost in the colors, to be working on such a large scale.

“I see that color theory class sure has paid off,” I hear as I drop the last empty can back into the duffle bag. I can hear the mockery in Jess’s voice and we both end up cracking up; maybe its the added effect of the fumes, but I’m starting to unwind from all the tension that had been building inside my chest.

“Alright,” Jess said clapping me on the shoulder. “Now for the fun part.”

Jess pulled out a sketch book and flipped to a specific page; before I could complain that it was too dark to see whatever it was he wanted to show me, he had pulled out a tiny keychain flashlight and clicked it on. “Here, hold this.” He said as he shoved it into my hand. He situated the sketch book to lay open on one of his palms so I could shine the light down onto the pages.

The sketch that I see makes my heart clench; Jess is speaking for a group that is often so over-looked that no one thinks much of their abuse, but what’s worse is that their abuse is considered “family fun”. He’s created a house of mirrors, which I have no idea how he’s going to pull off, and on either side there are animals-one side has humans, a huge crowd, and the other has a menagerie of “entertainment” animals. The reflections as these two classes of animals stare at each other shows just how twisted and distorted their nature has become. The humans look into the mirror, the mothers, children, fathers that all smile and hold balloons, and they see the soldiers, mercenaries, business men, cops all races and ethnicities that had turned their backs on each other and teenagers with their eyes glued to their phones and tablets-even the babies. The animals looked into the mirror, and though there were elephants, tigers, monkeys, birds of prey, bears, sharks, dolphins, and gorillas that were all dressed in their “performance” regalia, the painting focused on the large orca whale that was poised in front of the mirror with the other animals behind him; he looks into the mirror and sees himself floating in the deep ocean, his pod behind him.

“I watched that documentary “Blackfish” like a month ago and I couldn’t get it out of my head,” Jess starts as he runs his hand over his drawing. “I ended up doing a lot of research on the animals in the entertainment industry, and I was walking along the embarcadero one day and I saw this place. It was like a huge blank canvas just begging to be painted.”

My eyes dance from line to line, drinking in the colors, and always coming back to the mirror that divides the picture. “This is incredible Jess,” I breath, the light shaking in my hands. “What can I help with?”

We spend the rest of the night bouncing backhand forth from one end of the painting to the other, crossing each other and yet never knocking into each other. I help lay the base colors for the humans standing outside of the mirror, blending the flesh tone spray paint with the forms of shirts and shorts and sundresses and other clothing. Jess focuses most of his attention on the mirror and the reflections within. I switch over to the other side of the painting and start laying down the colors and forms of the animals; I make sure to do the orca last since it’s the focus and it should lay on top of the other animals’ edges. We take a very short break a couple of hours short of sunrise to drink some water and for Jess to give me instructions and advice for the next part.

We hustle about and manage to finish the piece just as the light on the horizon starts to materialize into the first glimpse of the sun. It isn’t quite to Jess’s liking, I can tell by the way he stares at it at the end. “It’s not quite right,” he mumbles as I stand next to him surveying our handy work.

“You can always come back tomorrow night or whenever and touch it up till it’s perfect.” I grumble sleepily. as I finish gathering up the used paint cans and dump them into the duffle bags.

Jess makes an irritated grumble and huffs something under his breath that I don’t hear. “Well, we’re out of time tonight, guess that’s all I can do.”

He’s right; we can’t risk hanging out too much longer, the police will be patrolling around to wake up the homeless, and if they caught us we’d be headed to jail. Street art is still illegal, even if the city doesn’t bother trying to clean it up anymore, they’ll still lock someone up for “tagging” if they’re caught with a can of spray paint. However, I’m practically dead on my feet; I can’t see straight, my eyelids are sticking together and my muscles are giving out on me.

“Come on,” Jess says as he slings one of the duffle bags over his shoulder. “You only have to make it to the embarcadero, then I’m hailing us a cab.” He helps me get the duffle bag over my shoulder, but when I buckle under the weight of it he grabs me by the shoulder and we walk together to the street. If it wasn't for Jess’s arm around my shoulder I don’t think I would have made it much further than a couple of steps, but together we make it to the curb.

“Just stay vertical, okay, and in less than five minutes you can rest in the back of a cab.” Jess said as he gingerly let go of my shoulder. I swayed a little, and one of my eyes stayed shut a little too long, but I managed to stay standing; Jess turned to the street, the cabs were just starting to roam the city so there were only a few of them. He threw up his hand as one was driving by, it sped up to the curb and came to a stop. “Come on Jude,” he hissed as he pulled open the cabbie’s backdoor open. “Let’s go home.”

I struggled over to the curb with both duffle bags, which Jess took and threw into the back of the cab. Jess hustled me into the back and then slid in after me; as soon as I was sitting, my eyes started to drift closed, my breath slowed down, and my muscles molded to fit the seat. Jess said something to the cabbie, but I was already so out of it that I was beginning to wonder if I was already dreaming. Jess settled back into the seat next to me as the cab roared into life.

“Do you know the address for the dorm apartments?” I sighed. Jess’s arm snaked around my shoulder, drawing me closer to him until my head rested on his shoulder.

He hums quietly. “You can’t go back to the dorms in this state,” he whispers. “You’ll come back to my place and sleep for a bit before you go back; besides, this will give you a chance to get away from some of the drama.”

That was the last thing I remember hearing him say before I must have passed out; I was vaguely aware of being pulled and lifted and carried at some point, but I was too far gone. I was glad to land on something very soft; I tossed and turned to get comfortable, finally settling on snuggling up to a large warm mass. I fall deeper into a peaceful sleep, apparently utter exhaustion is a good way to deal with stress; I still apparently, dream of Connor, however. I see him, as if from across the room, laying in a too-bright white hospital room but even though I try to move I can’t seem to get any closer to his bed.

I wake up from my dream as late afternoon is hitting my face; in the dream I had managed to finally break through the invisible barrier, but by the time I reached the bed and reached out to hug Connor, he had disappeared. Now, I woke up startled, with my face smashed into the sheets of a very comfortable bed. The warmth I had snuggled up to in my sleep was Jess, who was thankfully still dead asleep. I hated that I had been so pathetically unconscious, now I just hoped things weren’t awkward between us.

I made sure I had everything that was mine before sneaking out of Jess’s apartment and out of his building; it turned out that Jess lived across town from the dorm apartments, so I had to take the subway. The entire trip I thought about Jess and worked myself into a proper guilt over everything that happened after the painting. Nothing was ever simple; I just hoped that Jess didn’t expect anything else to happen between us. Another layer of guilt built up inside my chest as I thought of Connor and how honest he had been with me; what was I supposed to tell him now? Jess and I were merely co-workers and artists, it wasn't even as if I had kissed him or flirted, but then why did I feel like I needed to tell Connor right away?By the time I got back to the dorms it was almost five in the afternoon, which meant that Saturday was almost over; I pulled out my phone to call Jesus like I had promised, but froze when I saw that I had a text from Connor.

“I had the best dream about you last night. Thank you for that, for helping me sleep. I don’t deserve you, but I’m working on that. Love, Connor”

Chapter Text

I wake up the next morning drowsy and confused; my phone is clutched in my hand, but they’ve both fallen away from my face as I slept, and my face feels like I’ve been punched. I slowly sit up, rubbing my eyes against the bright chink of light coming in from under my blinds. I must have fallen asleep talking to Jude; suddenly I was concerned about if I had snored into his ear, the thought made me chuckle.

I slid out of bed and padded out of my room slowly, my staples were particularly itchy today. When I walked into the kitchen mom and dad were’t there; I heard the sounds of footsteps and doors opening and closing as I found myself a bowl and filled it to the brim with sugary cereal. By the time I was sitting down to enjoy my sugar rush, dad was coming in through the garage door looking very much awake.

He smiled and called through the open door to the garage. “He’s up,” he called as he walked int the kitchen. Mom came in behind him, smiling and brushing dust off her shirt.

“Morning,” she chirped as she grabbed a bottle of water and sat down next to me. “Hey Adam,” she looked over at dad, who was leaning against the sink just observing me. “Why don’t you fill up the thermal bag with some snacks and drinks for the trip?”

Dad nodded and went to find the thermal bag in the hall closet. I had a mouth full of cereal when mom turned back to me. “So, did you get some rest?” She asks, her tone as neutral as possible.

I finish chewing and swallowing my mouthful. “I woke up around eleven, I think, and had another meltdown.” My voice is hoarse from all the crying. “I called Jude.”

The sentence hangs there like a bubble, waiting to be burst. “Really?” My mom says, full of curiosity. “Was that such a good idea; I mean, you don’t even know what the results will be.”

I nod solemnly. “He was sweet,” I say quietly, staring at my bowl of cereal which is slowly getting soggy. “He helped me calm down so I could go back to sleep.”

“Wow,” mom said as she sipped her water. “How much did tell him?”

I poke at my cereal. “Pretty much everything,” I sigh before crunching another spoonful.

I finish my cereal a few minutes later; mom is still sitting there, looking at me. Dad comes back into the room and starts filling the bag with bottles of water and snacks. “I know you had to deal with a lot yesterday sweetie,” mom starts. “Do you still feel like heading over to campus today?”

I sigh, rubbing my face; I feel my oily skin and eye crust as I move my fingers to my hair. I sigh heavily before I turn to her. “Yeah,” I say, my voice still rough. “Better to just deal with it; besides, I can always sleep on the way there.”

My mom put a soft hand on my shoulder, her thumb rubbing circles there for a moment. “Okay sweetie,” I sigh and lean into her and she hugs me. “Why don’t you go shower and dad and I will finish getting the car ready?” I nod my head as she squeezes me one last time.

She gets up and goes over to the kitchen sink where dad is packing a ziplock bag full of grapes; they both have their backs to me, so I just make my way quietly out of the kitchen and go off to my room. I pick out a clean pair of pants, still elastic waisted, and a short sleeved t-shirt with a faded Disney design, then I go into the adjoining bathroom.

A nice warm shower, and about fifteen minutes fussing over my hair and outfit, and I feel much more human than I did this morning. I walked back out to the kitchen, my hair still damp, and my sneakers untied. “Hey,” dad’s voice calls from the living room. I walk over to him.

“Hey,” I say, my voice tired. “Where’s mom? Are we going to hit the road soon?”

He turns off the television and looks at me. “Mom will be down in a moment, then we can get going.” He looks me up and down. “You okay bud? You got your school ID?”

I pull my wallet out of my back pocket to double check that my ID is still where it was, then nod. Dad still has a concerned look on his face. “Everything okay Connor?” His voice is soft. “I know yesterday was hard for you, and your mom said you talked to Jude about it. Is there anything that You want to talk about?”

I shook my head, just the thought of Jude and our last conversation made me want to curl up and cry. “Just a little tired talking about it, sorry dad.” I see his face pinch a little and I can’t help but sigh heavily. “Maybe later, okay?”

He nods, there’s footsteps on the stairs, and mom comes into the living room. “We ready to go boys?” She says sunnily.

We all pile into mom’s car. It’s at least two hours to campus, and that’s without traffic; I fall asleep before we’re even out of the foothills. I catch a few glimpses out the car window when the car bumps and my eyelids flutter; but I don’t wake up until mom is pulling into the visitor's parking lot at the university. “You awake there sleepy head?” dad asks as mom puts the car in park.

I grumble as I yawn and stretch; dad chuckles as he and mom open their doors. We get out of the car and look around; mom and dad have never really been to campus because I never wanted them involved in my life. And now, here I was, looking at it and wondering why I had even wanted to be here in the first place; the buildings were large and intimidating with little space around them. For all it’s atmosphere, it might as well have been a business park; the cement and glass of the buildings gave no warmth or comfort, but the idea that I wasn’t meant to be here settled over me.

“Alright,” dad’s voice pulls me back from my internal grimace. “Where to first Connor?”

I sigh. “We should probably go to the administration offices first,” I turn to locate it with my eyes. “It’s that building over there,” I point to one of the mirror buildings. “Best to deal with that; we don’t want to get caught up and then have the office close.”

I’m stuck in my head as we walk through the parking lot toward the towering office building; it might be a warm autumn day in Southern California, but everything feels so cold and heartless. I know my parents are concerned at my silence as we walk up the pathway and into the lobby of the building, and I want to talk to them about it, but just not now. If I try to talk about it now, I think I might break into a million pieces. We took the elevator up to the floor that the directory indicated, which lead us into another smaller office lobby.

There was a perky student worker acting as secretary. “Hi there,” she chirped. “How can I help you?”

I stepped forward, mom and dad standing behind me patiently. “I’d like to talk to someone about withdrawing from the semester due to medical issues.”

The girl smiles and asks for my school ID; I hand it over to her to be scanned. “Alright, so if you want to sit down it looks like your counselor will be able to see you in a few minutes.” The three of us take our seats, but with my staples the chair is extremely uncomfortable. I end up standing up, pacing slowly around the lobby; I voice mom and dad’s eyes, I know they’re watching me though, I can feel their eyes follow me as I move slowly back and forth.

“Connor Stevens?” I look up to see a middle-aged woman in a tan blazer standing in the doorway of one of the offices. Mom and dad stand up and we all head over to her office; in my years at this school I think I’ve only ever been here a handful of times, but I still feel as if I’m walking into the principle’s office.

We take seats in front of her desk as she proceeds to pick my file out of a filing cabinet before she finds her own seat. “Alright, let’s see,” she says; she isn’t warm, but she isn’t cold, but she is all business. “So it looks like you put in for a temporary withdrawal for this semester already.”

“That was me,” mom pipes up. “He was in the hospital so I took it upon myself to see that people knew where he was.”

The woman looks at my mother and gives her a small smile. “Well, I’m sure his professors appreciated that. But, it looks like you came in here today to discuss a long term withdraw. Tell me about your reasons for wanting that.” She puts the file down on her desk and turns her eyes on me.

I clear my throat before I speak. “The time I spent in the hospital was not the end of my medical issues, it was the beginning. I have only been home for a few weeks; I still haven’t had any of my sutures removed, then there’s the pain and the healing. My doctors will not let me return if I wanted to, and I couldn’t give you an exact date for when they would allow me to return.” By the end I’m fighting off the catch in my throat.

There’s a long silence as the woman observes me for a moment. “If you wanted to?” She asks finally.

“Huh?” I breathe in confusion.

“You said “even if I wanted to”.” The woman says calmly. “Are you considering not returning at all, even after you recover?”

I suddenly feel like a bug under a magnifying glass, but I need to be honest. “Yes,” I say thickly. “I am considering taking another path in the future, after my recovery.”

She nods and then turns to her computer. She does some typing before she turns back to me. “Well,” she says slowly. “It’s too late in the semester for you to get any refunds back or drop all of your classes.”

“But isn’t that what a medical withdraw is for,” my mother says quickly. The woman turns her eyes to her. “It’s a last resort for someone who cannot attend any of their classes for the rest of the semester, after all other means of withdraw are passed their deadlines?”

The woman nods and turns back to me. “You can fill out an application for a medical withdraw; I can go get the papers for you and we can fill them out together and I will file them for you today. But, what I am saying is that you would still technically be considered a student, at the end of the semester you will have to decide whether or not you with to withdraw completely from the circulation.”

I nod. “I’ll go get the paperwork then so we can get the wheels turning.” She got up and walked out of the office.

I sighed in relief, my mother however was more than a little irritated. “I can’t believe it,” she hissed, turning to dad. “Did you hear that? He has to apply-APPLY-for medical withdraw.”

I guess I hadn’t caught that part. But there wasn’t much time for mom to grouse because the woman walked back into the office. She ha several different packets of papers; she placed them on her desk, organizing them into piles. “So we’ll start with this,” she says and picks up a paper stack and hands it to me to look over.

I start reading over it, but I give mom a nudge with my foot and a quiet grumble. She gets the message. “So, would you mind explaining why he has to fill out an application for medical withdraw? I mean, is there an actual chance that this could be declined?”

I’m reading about loan defaults and other financial terms, all leading to the final line that basically reads: I agree that by withdrawing from classes, I know that I will have to begin my repayment of my student loans. I have to sign it, but I hate it. The woman is speaking to mom. “There’s a very small chance that that would ever happen, but yes there is a chance.”

My mother huffed disgruntledly. “I’m sorry, but who is it that makes these sorts of decisions?”

I sign the bottom of the page and then show it to dad. He whispers in my ear, “It’s okay, we’ll ask for copies of everything before we leave.” I nod and hand the papers back to the woman who automatically hands me the next papers.

“I know this is a difficult thing to understand,” the woman begins and I can feel mom bristle next to me. “But we do need to consider that not everyone is as reputable as we would like; there is a committee of five faculty members, professors and administrators alike, would will look over the application and determine whether there is merit to allowing a medical withdraw.”

I sign this paper after only briefly glancing over it; dad said we were getting copies of everything, and the sooner I got mom out of here the better. I hand back the paper and get another handed to me. “This is ridiculous,” my mother sighs. “His doctors won’t allow him to return, whether or not your committee rejects his application.”

I sign this paper even more quickly and hand it back; there’s only one more stack of papers. I look at it and show dad; it’s a fill-in form, so it will take a bit more time. I start filling out the spaces. “Mrs. Macintosh,” the woman is trying to sound soothing, but I can hear the irritation in her voice. “Please calm down, there is absolutely no reason I can see that his application would be rejected.”

Mom’s anger is fizzling out a bit, but I still hurry through the form as quickly as possible. I hand the forms back to the woman, who looks as if she’s facing a band of jackals at the moment. “We’d like copies of all those forms please,” my dad chimes in. The woman turns her attention to him, her face a bit pale, but nods and stands. She takes all the pages with her.

“Thanks mom,” I whisper once she’s gone. I put a hand on mom’s knee and squeezed it gently.

She wraps an arm around my shoulders and knocks out heads together as we hear the sound of a copy machine whirring outside the door. “Anything for you kid, anything.” She sighs and we stay like that for a few minutes.

“This school doesn’t even feel like a school,” she says as we sit back in our chairs; my staples are still itching and aching. “You deserve so much better sweetie.”

I sit there, thinking about it; all the shit I had gone through while here, on this campus, and all the drama and lies that lead up to me winding up in the hospital. I didn’t really feel much like I deserved anything, let alone better. Mom was right though, this school was not where I belonged. I needed to find somewhere that I could feel like myself, whoever that was.

Chapter Text

Mom and dad take me back to the car after we get all the papers and leave the office building; dad puts the papers away and mom pulls out the cool thermal bag full of snacks. We sit in the car, seat belts undone, munching on a variety of things. Mom turns on the car so we can cool off in the air conditioning.

I’m half way through a deliciously crisp pear when mom takes a break from her carrot sticks. “Alright sweetie,” she says as she grabs a soda from the bag. “After we finish up, where should we head to next?”

She’s sipping her soda, so I finish chewing and swallowing. “We should go to the dorm and clean up whatever I’ve left there; maybe my roommates can give me a heads up on Sarah.”

I pull out a bottle of water and start to drink. “Okay,” she says and gives my dad a nod. “Which way to the dorm?”

We finish our snack before I give mom the directions to the dorm; it’s a couple of blocks away, so we decide to drive. The parking lot for the dorm is half full, so there’s no problem finding a spot; mom parks and we all get out of the car at take in the dorm complex. “Is it me…” dad starts.

I cut him off. “No, it’s not just you; these used to be hotels, the school bought them and turned them into dorms.” They weren’t fancy, but they had seemed like such a luxury when I had thought about the other possibilities when it came to college dorms. It was a cluster of three buildings, each with a courtyard in the middle with rooms on all four sides of the rectangular structure with two floors. But the buildings’ age was obvious when anyone noticed that there were no elevators.

“Alright,” I groan as I pull my ID out of my wallet again. “Let’s go and see what we’re dealing with.” I lead then up to the sliding glass doors to the dorm building that I lived in; they stood there while I stepped to the side to slide my ID card through the security reader.

We walked into the entry way, mostly glass, with lots of palm trees and tropical flowers decorating the staircase that sits right across from the entrance and then branches off to the right and the left. We start up the stairs, dad taking the lead as mom held onto my elbow as I struggle; my staples burn with each step I take, then when I stop to catch my breath they itch, and I can’t help but hate how hard it all is. We make it up the stairs, and even though I’m huffing a bit, I step forward and lead the way to my front door; I pull my key out of my pocket and slide it into the lock.

I take a deep breath before turning the key and opening the door. “Hello?” I call. The common room is dark, so I wait for a minute before I push the door open all the way. “Hello?” I say again, stepping inside and finding the light switch.

The florescent lights snap on, my eyes sting and blink in the harsh light. “Who’s there?” I hear my roommate Brandon call before he emerges from our bedroom; he’s got his nose in his phone.

“Hey man,” I say happily; Brandon was always a nice guy, busy, and academic, but nice-I mean he did take me to the ER.

He looks up, his eyes widening and a smile breaking across his face. “Oh my god, you’re alive man.” He comes over and grabs my shoulders; he gives me a shake, we both laugh, and then he bear hugs me. “I’m glad you’re doing okay; you coming back back soon?”

That’s when mom and dad step into the room behind me; Brandon’s attention is suddenly grabbed. “Brandon, these are my parents.” I say as we step further into the common room.

“Hi,” he says a little distractedly. “Um, I’m Brandon.” He offers his hand to both of them one at a time. Dad smiles and slaps him on the shoulder. Mom smiles politely.

Brandon seemed confused; why shouldn’t he be, I had never brought my parents to the dorm before and he’d never met them. “So,” I say as Brandon turns back to me with a quizzical look. “Long story short, I’m not coming back this semester; the doctors haven’t cleared me yet to do much more than sit on the couch.”

Brandon sighs heavily. “That blows man,” he pats my shoulder. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” His voice is only slightly tinted with concern. I know what it means to Brandon to have the dorm to himself; he’s an academic, so the space will give him peace and quiet to study.

I throw my dad a look, and I hope that it’s at least a little pained. I groan softly and scrub my hand through my hair. “Gee,” I say, feigning an air of disappointment. “At least two more months, maybe even more.”

Brandon nods somberly; he was a good roommate, but I think he’s going to be just as happy with the new arrangement. He helps dad with packing up my school stuff while I go into the bedroom and help mom pack up my room stuff. I never realized how much I hadn’t personalized my dorm room; the walls were bare, which meant the horrible “egg shell” white walls were all you saw, and my stuff was littered everywhere which made the closet look empty.

I sat on the bed with the suitcases as mom handed me clothes to fold and pack; I tried to focus on folding my shirts as small as I could get them, but mom could see right through me. “Honey,” she soothes, a hand running through my hair lovingly. “Are you okay, you seem sort of far away?”

She goes back to my closet slowly to grab more clothes. I sigh, roll my shoulders, and lean back on my hands. “It’s a lot to deal within twenty-four hours, you know?”

Mom brought over a stack of shirts, the last ones in my closet; she rubbed my back and then goes back for more clothes. “How did Jude take it last night? You seemed better this morning after you had talked. Was it the trip?”

I continue folding, but I shake my head. “Jude was great,” I say and I can’t keep my voice was wobbling a bit. “He was so kind to me,” and that’s when the tears start to brim and my voice goes out and I can’t stop the shoulders from shaking as I stifle my sob.

Mom acts quickly, shutting the door and swooping in to hold me. She shushes me and rocks me as I take shaky breaths and cry. “It’s okay,” she whispers into my hair. “It’s okay, you’re alright.”

After a few minutes I can breath and talk normally even though my eyes are still trickling tears. “I feel so horrible mom,” I huff. “I can’t stand that I’m still hurting him.”

She hugs me even tighter. “But you said he was kind.”

I take a huge breath and exhale quickly. “I don’t deserve it. He deserves someone who won’t hurt him.”

My mom rubs my back, soft circles, until I need to feel free and pull away from her a bit. “Honey,” she says as she watches me rub my hands over my face. “It’s his choice. If he chose to be kind to you, that was his decision. And by the way, if you hadn’t noticed, he’s chosen to talk to you; Jude has decided to let you back into his life.”

I turn, lowering my hands, and look into her green eyes. She’s smiling, with tears of her own shimmering in her eyes. “And I look at you, and all you’ve been going through to deal with your physical trauma, and how you’ve made such strong changes in your personal life, and I see you… You love him, always have, and even if I haven’t seen or heard from him in years…” She takes a shaky breath. “If he didn’t still have feelings, then why is it every time you’ve talked to him or texted him…”

I smile at her, tears sliding down my cheeks again. “Connor you look so happy.”

I grab her and hug her, tears still falling silently; her chin rest on top of my head as we share the moment. When we pull apart, we’re both smiling, our eyes are watery, but I’m happy. “Thanks mom,” I murmur.

She stands up, kisses my cheek, and says “Anytime sweetheart.” She walks back to the closet to get the forgotten clothes, opening the door a bit as she goes. When we finish packing the clothes mom helps me off the bed so she can strip it and pack the bedding. We have just enough room left to pack the rest of my things, like shoes and hats and other odds and ends. The suitcases, jam packed, are the only thing in the room that are proof that I had ever been there; and then mom and I roll them out into the common room. Dad’s got a couple of boxes ready to go, but he’s sitting on the foldable chair that I brought with me; Brandon is sitting on the futon; if they had been talking, they stop when mom and I enter the room.

“Do you guys want a hand out?” Brandon offers. I take him up on his offer, since I can’t really care or pull much weight. We all traipse back through the dorm, down the stairs and out to the car. While mom and dad are working to configure the luggage into the back of the car Brandon and I walk back t the entrance to the dorm.

“Hey,” I say lamely. “Um, have you heard from Sarah?”

Brandon and I don’t typically run with the same group of people, but we’ve both had a couple of run -ins with certain people. He nods his head slowly. “Yeah, she’s been around a couple of times looking for you.” I had a feeling; she was a persistent one. “Since I didn’t know anything, I just didn’t tell her anything.”

I shake my head in disappointment. “Any idea where she might be today?” I ask; but I know, it won’t be easy.

Brandon shrugs and states the obvious. “Probably her sorority house,” and when he sees my grimace he chuckles. “Sorry man, but you got to pay the piper.”

We say our good-byes, and I tell him that I’ll keep him updated on any return dates. He’s a good guy, I think as we hug awkwardly and then he heads back inside. I watch him go, a little sad that he had to deal with me collapsing. I was never a very good roommate to him, maybe this will be my parting gift to him. I walk back to the car slowly; my body is starting to ache from all the extra exertion.

I slide into the backseat, the back of the car expertly packed and mom and dad chatting away; the car goes quiet as I buckle my seat belt. “Connor?” Mom asks, and my eyes dart to the rear view mirror where I could see her eyes.

“We need to head over to Greek Row.” I feel my heart sink, the words hollow in my mouth.

Chapter Text

“what do you mean you’re not going to be in New York for Moms’ anniversary?” Jesus sounded upset, which was never a good thing; but, at least he was several states away, in Colorado, and couldn’t wrestle me to the ground and mess up my hair like he used to when we were growing up.

I pace the hallway outside of Virginia’s room; I had dialed Jesus as soon as I had finished reading Connor’s message. I groaned into the phone, my head tilting back as I came to an exasperated halt. “I can’t make it Jesus,” I repeat. “School’s kicking my ass, I’ve got projects due the Monday after the party, and I don’t think that I’ll have enough for the trip. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Jesus let’s a hiss escape his mouth; I knew that he was frustrated with me, but he was just going to have to deal with it. “You were my ride,” he sighs, and I can hear him whining underneath it all.

“Jesus,” I sigh. “There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”

“It’s two weeks from now,” he whined. “You don’t think that things might turn around by then?”

I rub my face, exasperated and only wanting to finish this phone call. “I’ll keep you posted, but for now it looks like you’re going to need to find another way to get to New York.”

He huffs a “fine” before we say our good-byes. I hang up and knock on Virginia’s door. Her roommate answers, which is fine because I just go lay on my make-shift bed and pass out; it isn’t until later, early the next morning, around seven that I wake up.

“Morning sunshine,” Virginia greets me quietly; her roommate is still asleep, and she herself is in her pajamas. She’s sitting at her desk with a sketch pad in her lap, her legs folded gracefully beneath her into a pretzel. As I stretch my arms above my head I hear her pencil drop lightly onto the desk. “Eh,” she says quietly. “I have enough to work off of.”

She must have been sketching me while I slept, I would grouse, but I don’t care at this point. It’s Sunday, which means I have five days to accomplish the impossible; I have no more time for being annoyed, I just have to face life. “Morning,” I grumble softly as I go about finding some clean clothes to wear.

“What happened to you last night?” She whispers as I stumble to my feet. She shushes me, reminding me that her roommate would not appreciate the early-morning wake up.

“Art project,” I yawn as I shuffle into the bathroom.

Virginia has school work to do, so I let her know that I might be back late again but I’d definitely be back and then I quietly slip out of the dorm. With that done, I can now tackle the more social aspects of my plan; anything that can be done without school officials, since all the offices are closed on Sundays.

The first place I needed to go was work; I caught the bus, but even though it wasn’t too crowded I stood at the back. I fidgeted the entire ride to work, my fingers playing with a loose thread in my shirt hem. When I walk into the back of the shop no one is there, which is actually a relief. I head into the owner’s office; Patrick comes in early on Sunday’s so I sit down in front of his desk in his tiny office and wait.

I must have dozed off, but as soon as I hear the lock click I jolted straight up in my seat. Patrick walked in, a huge coffee cup in his left hand, completely ignoring me until he was sitting down in front of his computer-an ancient looking Mac. “What’s wrong Jude? You never come in this early on a Sunday, let alone one when you’re not scheduled.”

He doesn’t give me more than a curious glance before he goes back to his computer screen; Patrick has to deal with the paperwork of the business, something I would hate to face, but he does it with a smile and an effortless approach. “I need to put in for leave,” I say, then clear my throat of the sleep that’s causing it to sound coarse.

“For when?” He types furiously on his keyboard; I imagine he’s pulling up the schedule spreadsheet.

“I need Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off.” My tone is flat, preparing for the obvious.

“What days?” He asks nonchalantly. “Two weeks from now? Three weeks?”

“End of this week,” I correct.

Patrick stops typing, something I didn’t expect. “That’s a little last minute,” he puts his hands flat on his desk, not that his cluttered desk is really the place to make a dramatic stand. “You know I remember you asking me for leave for next week…” He glances at the computer screen. “Yes, I have it right here.”

I shift in my seat and take a deep breath. “Yeah, I need to change that. This weekend, not the next. Something came up.”

Patrick takes another look at the computer screen. “Well, I can ask if Jess wants to switch with you, but I think he had plans.”

I clear my throat again. “Yeah, he won’t want to switch; maybe Ryan would be able to or Jack.”

Patrick takes another look at the computer, makes a satisfied mumble and then looks back at me. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I guess you’ve been putting in your hours; I’ll make an exception this time.”

“Thanks,” I say. I let his “just don’t make a habit out it” die on his tongue as I get up and leave his office. I don’t stop moving until I’m back on the bus and headed back to the dorm building. My mind is full of checklists and tasks to accomplish; each item is critically important, there’s no time for excuses or procrastination. I walk off the bus and head for the mail room; there’s a notice from Res-Life.

I tear open the envelop, my mail box still hanging open in front of me. I was expecting a phone call, not another letter. Inside was a formal notice that one, Paolo my-shit-of-an-ex-roommate, had formally filed a complaint about me. I had to report to Res-Life Friday to handle the matter, or at least, that’s what the letter said. I crunched the envelop in my fist and threw it into the nearest trash bin, seething. I groaned, or roared, or whatever; I was far beyond words.

I took the letter and stormed through the lobby in a haze of rage. I stabbed my finger into the elevator call button, and when the doors slid open I rushed inside and repeated the gesture with the floor button. I paced back and forth like a caged animal as I waited for the number to light up and the stupid little bell to ding so that the doors could open and I could take off.

I took off alright, and I went straight to my old dorm apartment. I unlocked the door and burst right into the common room; and there’s Paolo, sitting on the couch with some loser drooling all over him. They fly apart as I come storming in, and the poor guy (I think I recognize him from one of my art classes) lands on his butt after falling over the arm of the ouch.

“Get out,” I bellow and jab a finger towards the still open apartment door. The guy scuttles out and I don't even bother watching him go. Instead I focus on Paolo and the idiotic pout he’s trying to plaster to his face to cover up his blush of embarrassment.

“Jude,” he says and I can hear him forcing his voice to quake. “Sweetie, it’s not what it looks like.” He puts his hands up in mock surrender.

I snort in disgust. “Whatever, go catch some disease from whoever you want Paolo, that’s not what’s important.” I shake my fist at him, the one that’s still clutching the letter from Res-Life.

“You little shit,” I growled. “You went and filed a complaint against me; what for? I mean can you really accuse me of anything other than trying to a decent human being?” Paolo opens his mouth, but I use my free hand to point a threatening finger in his face. “How dare you drag me through this, and why? Because you had a little crush and I turned you down because you were being a gigantic psycho? And now you’re already on to the next poor sucker?” He makes a move to stand up and I take a step back; i can feel myself shaking with fury.

“You have no right to invade my life like this Paolo,” I can hear my voice rumbling in my ears; I never knew I could yell like this, I’ve never wanted to. “I’m going away this weekend,” my voice a dangerous calm. “When I get back, we’ll settle this like adults…” I take a ragged breath. “Until then stay the hell away from me.”

I leave before Paolo can try any of his emotional garbage and I’m back in the elevator. I head up to Virginia’s room to grab my art supplies, making sure to stash the Res-Life letter in my back for later. I book it back down to the lobby in time to catch the next bus; this time, I’m heading to Golden Gate Park. I’ve got five days to catch up on projects and assignments, not to mention get a head start on midterms; as I’m traipsing through the park, I keep saying his name over and over again in my mind. Connor. Connor. Connor.

Connor Stevens, the boy I’m skipping a day of class for and running away to L.A. to be with, all because I didn’t sleep with a co-worker and I couldn’t not-tell Connor in person how much that affected me. Connor Stevens, who in five days, I would be taking a train to see. Not that he would know. Not that I was invited. And not because I had an undying passion to be locked in a speeding tin can for ten hours. The train ride would give me time to get any remaining homework done on the way there; because when I got to see Connor Stevens again… Even now, as I was sitting against a pine tree drawing a squirrel, I knew that things were going to get intense.

Chapter Text

It turned out that the trip to Greek Row was the least painful part of the day; I knew which sorority house Sarah lived in, so I didn’t need to search. Mom and dad parked the car at the curb, and even though both of them wanted to come with me-my father for moral support and my mother for emotional support, I insisted that they stay in the car. I needed to do this by myself; besides, it’d be ten times more humiliating if I had to do this with my mom and dad with me.

I knocked on the front door and was greeted by one of the many bubbly blondes that lived inside; it wasn’t like I knew her, but she just let me in without any introduction. “Where’s Sarah?” I call as the girl is about to disappear down a hallway.

“Upstairs on the left,” she yells over her shoulder. I groan and take the stairs as slow as I can, but even then by the time I reach the second floor landing I’m out of breath and my staples are pulling at my flesh.

I take a few long breaths before I head down the hallway; It’s just a line of bedroom doors each side, each with signs that were decorated with the names of the occupants. I focus on the left side, and a couple of doors down I see Sarah’s name encircled by a bright pink boa in the shape of a heart. I knock on the door and stare at my feet, shuffling awkwardly as I hear the sound of someone moving around inside.

I look up when I hear the door fly open. “Connor?” Sarah seemed taller than I remembered as she looked at me from the doorway; she seemed more shocked than pleased. “What are you doing here?” She doesn’t step away from the doorway, so I don’t make a move to enter her room.

“I…” I started.

“Your roommate said you were sick.” She still just stands in the middle of the doorway, and I feel extremely uncomfortable. I really don’t want to be standing in the middle of this hallway when I have this conversation.

“If I could just come in,” I stumble over my voice, everything coming out choppy and gravelly. “It’s only fair to explain to you…”

Sarah stepped in front of the door, closing it slightly behind her, only a crack left open as she kept a hand on the door knob. “Look,” she whispered. My eyes fixed on her, suddenly confused. “I was curious, you know, when you just up and disappeared, but I’ve moved on.”

I open my mouth to respond, but she holds up her hand to stop me. “You don’t need to say anything Connor, it’s not like we were an item or anything. Feel better though, okay?” She gave me a pitiable smile and placed a hand on my shoulder.

I nod my head and smile back at her, then she’s sliding back into her room and closing the door behind her without a second look back. I should be relieved, and I guess I am, but I’m also unnerved. Sarah wasn’t the only person I had been intimate with, but of all of them I felt like she had been the most invested. I didn’t want to dwell on it for too long though, otherwise I knew I would end up in a pit of self-loathing.

I headed back down to the main floor and out the front door before I could breathe freely again, and by the time I got into the backseat of the car I was exhausted. “That was fast,” mom said as she looked at me in the review mirror.

“Everything go okay?” Dad asks quietly; I can hear the implication in his tone, both anxious as well as concerned.

I sigh resignedly. “No pregnancy to deal with,” it comes out more sarcastic than I mean, and from the unhappy sounds from the front seat I know that I was a bit more rude than I should have been. “Sorry, I’m just drained,” I look at mom’s eyes in the mirror and I see the empathy there.

“Okay sweetie,” she says and my dad nods. “We’re headed home now,” and she starts the car. Five minutes into the drive I drift off to sleep, which is peaceful and dreamless…

Until my eyes flutter after mom hits a pot hole and then visions emerge behind my eyelids. I’m laying on my bed, curled up on my side, with Ivy rolling on her back as I tease her feet. Then she meows, jumps over my body and disappears. When I roll over to find her, I find a beautiful Jude standing in my doorway, wind swept hair, and my Ivy twining around his legs. Jude’s eyes shine as he smiles at me, but I stay on the bed. He bends down and Ivy jumps into his arms, purring like a motor. Jude moves so slowly, every step he takes toward me is like an eternity. When he finally comes to the side of my bed, it’s as if he’s a giant; I look up at him as he towers over me, his chocolate eyes molten. Ivy leaps onto the bed behind me, suddenly forgotten.

“I missed you,” Jude’s voice is beyond anything that I’ve ever heard, like music and light twined together. I just stare up at him dumbly, my voice stolen away by my desire. I’m about to sit up, to slide my arm under myself and push myself up to meet his face, when there’s another bump and the car comes to a halt.

“We’re home sweetie,” mom reaches back to touch my knee as my eyelids flutter open.

Mom and dad let me go inside to lie down while they unload the things that we brought home from the dorm. The boxes will stay in the garage until I can go through them and figure out what I’m doing about school. I shuffle inside, and before I head off to my bedroom with Ivy trailing after me, I stop in the kitchen to take a couple of my painkillers and drink some water.

I lay on the bed and rub Ivy’s ears for a while, just staring off into the void above my alarm clock. It isn’t until the light outside the window is beginning to dim that I finally start to nod off again, but I’m startled when Ivy jumps off the bed in search of her food. I shift on my bed to find a more comfortable position, then realize that the cause for my discomfort is my cell phone poking into my spleen.

I pull it out, only slightly disappointed that Jude hasn’t texted; I remind myself that he works and he has class, that it means nothing and that he did help me out last night which means he might be just as exhausted. I type out a quick, sweet, text and send it before I put my phone on my night stand and sink further into my pillows. After the past two days, I was just glad to be too exhausted to be stressed; I did, however, hope that I might have some more lovely dreams involving Jude.

Chapter Text

I spend the week in a blur of work, both school and at the smoothie shop; by the time Thursday comes around I’m so drained that I can’t even find it me to care that I’ve already gotten two more notices from Res-Life; one was a complaint from Paolo about harassing him in his dorm room, the other was a reminder that I needed to come in on Friday to handle this with an administrator. I had put everything into getting on top of everything, which meant that I had to put my social shit on hold until now.

“You look like death,” Virginia said as I slumped onto my makeshift bed in the middle of her dorm. “You sure you want to do this?”

I grumble as I rub my palms over my eyes for the fourth time, each time the sleep is removed from my eyes for a shorter amount of time. My phone goes off quietly and I blindly pull it out of my hoodie pocket. “Which one is it?” I hear Virginia ask from her bed on the other side of the room.

I can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth as I look at the text that I just received from Connor. “Ah,” Virginia says. “Must be the sweetheart,” and she giggles as she settles back into her bed.

We both lay down for bed, the lights get turned out and even though I’m exhausted, I keep my phone out. I haven’t bee able to talk to Connor, mostly because I know I wouldn’t be able to keep my own secret if I heard his voice. And with all of the work I’ve been doing to catch up I haven’t been able to send very many texts, but that hasn’t stopped Connor from sending me the sweetest messages. As I’m lying on my back listening to Virginia’s soft breathing, I reread the messages that we’ve sent back and forth…

Connor: “You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did for me. You’re so sweet to me. Wanted to let you know that I’m through the worst of it I think, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop liking you being that sweet.”

Jude: “I couldn’t leave you like that; I could hear how scared you were, and even if we’ve got a complicated history I could never just leave you like that.”

Connor, a day later: “I can’t help but wonder what your life is like now; think you’ll have time to talk tonight? I want to hear how it’s going with you. I hope your roommate isn’t giving you any more trouble.”

Jude: “I wish I could, but I’ve got a lot of stuff that I’ve got to get done. I may not have a lot of time to message you either, but I hope you still send me texts-I’ll always read them even if I can’t respond right away.”

Connor: “I wish I had more to put in these messages. It seems like all I have to tell you is either horrible or boring… or horribly boring. I hate not being able to move around; just walking around the house winds me.”

Jude, a day later: “Nothing you have to say is horribly boring. I wish I could be there with you; I could use some down time right about now. I think my professors are trying to kill me.”

Connor: “I hope your roommate isn’t causing any more problems for you; I can’t believe that he was such a jerk.”

I had chosen to ignore that, but in the same day Connor had sent me other texts. Connor: “Ivy’s turned into a ball of purrs, wish you could be here; I bet you’d love playing with her; I’ve found that rubbing in between her ears makes her purr the loudest.” I can hear Connor’s sweet voice of adoration for Ivy, even as far away as he is.

A little later that same day I get a text with a picture; it shows Ivy, apparently in a coma, nestled between Connor’s sweatpants-clad thighs with a message that reads: “She fell asleep like this a few minutes ago and I don’t have the heart to wake her, so I think I’ll just take a nap.”

I couldn’t help but respond with a slight smile, imagining him reclining with Ivy on his lap. Jude: “I bet you’re as cute as she is when you sleep.”

I didn't get a reply until later that night. Connor: “I just wanted to make sure that last message was for real.”

This time, I replied immediately, even though it was passed ten and I was ready to pass out on the floor of Virginia’s dorm room. Jude: “It was real, I promise.” And I close my eyes, imagining being close enough to Connor to whisper in his ear.

Connor: “Either I’m gullible or I must really like you, but I’m choosing to believe you. I guess I just like the idea… I like thinking that you’re flirting with me.”

I texted him right away again. Jude: “Believe it, and now that I know that you like it, I might just start doing it more often. I bet you smile when you read my messages, and I bet your smile is sweet and shy.” I couldn’t help but smirk as I hit the send button.

Connor’s reply came even more quickly. Connor: “Now I think I’m dreaming because this is something I’ve always wanted. You’re too sweet Jude.”

I wrote back, not bothering to filter myself for the first time in a very long time. “As long as you’re smiling. Sweet Dreams cutie.”

That had been two days ago, and I hadn’t had enough time to send any more messages; but that hadn’t stopped Connor from texting me. Connor: “I couldn’t believe that those messages were real, but then I woke up and reread them. You called me cutie. I can’t even handle how much I smiled at that Jude, thank you.”

Connor: “So, can I like call you sweet things too? Or would it be weird?”

When I didn’t respond Connor wrote me again: “I’m hoping you’re just busy, try not to work too hard. But I bet you’re just as handsome even if you’re tired.” It was a cheesy attempt at flirting, and I could feel Connor’s nerves as I read it.

I wish I had had time to reply to Connor when he had sent that yesterday, but I hadn’t and the next message had been even more heartwarming. Connor: “I think I’ll leave the flirting up to you for now, but if I get to see you again I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself. Just messaging with you makes me so happy Jude.”

That had come in just a few hours ago. But, in less than a day Connor was going to be in for the surprise of his life; I can’t risk giving away too much, but I can’t resist. I smile as I type out a message to Connor. “I hope you dream of me tonight, I wish I could be near you-lately I’ve been wanting to see you more and more.”

I got to sleep, my phone clutched against my chest, laying on my back with my head lolled to one side. I jolt awake some time later, the darkness so thick around me, and a faint memory of a dream clinging to my mind. My phone had vibrated, I had sleepily looked at the screen, and seen that it was Connor calling; the dream had quickly dissolved when I had sat up in the dream while my body had actually tried to accomplish this. When I realized that my phone hadn’t actually gone off, and that I had to be up in four more hours, I flopped back down with a disappointed groan.

Chapter Text

In the week that follows Jude becomes so busy that I don’t get the chance to talk to him; I can’t help but be a bit jealous, the only things that occupy my time and my thoughts are my pain and Ivy… And Jude. I send him texts, not as many as I actually want to even when he tells me that he wants to hear from me even if he can’t respond all the time; I feel as if every time I text him I’m taking him away from something important, so I limit myself-that’s not to say that I don’t type out every text that I think of, but I end up deleting more than half of them.

My week is a wash of boredom; my trip to campus was draining both physically and emotionally, so I end up too fatigued to do much of anything for most of the days. In my exhaustion and my time spent on the couch watching mindless television shows the worry about my medical tests ebbed away; I’m sure some of it was due in part to the fact that my mother and father had both insisted that I take the pain medication that the doctors had prescribed me after the surgery-at least for a few days. So, I would wake up, take a couple of pills with my breakfast, and then Ivy and I would take up the entire couch for the rest of the day; one day we watched a marathon of Rachel Ray, after which I craved Italian food and mom happily obliged by letting me help her make lasagna for dinner, another day we watched what seemed like an entire season of Law and Order, and then on the last day we watched half of the Harry Potter movies.

“How are you feeling sweetie?” Mom was staying home with me while I recouped my strength; every morning she asked me how I was feeling and asked if she could see the sutures; I couldn’t bring myself to look at them even though they were just bellow my nose, and I hadn’t been able to tell mom why. I had tried, a few times, since I had come home from the hospital; each time I would burst into quiet sobs and start to shake uncontrollably. And each time I would convince myself that it was just the shock of it, that once I had healed a little more I wouldn’t react so emotionally.

“Better,” I say, a little bit of actual happiness and even energy coloring my voice. I had gotten to text with Jude yesterday late in the afternoon, just before I had fallen asleep for a nap; he had flirted with me, and even though I had really been scared that it was another prank from his roommate, I had been filled with this warmth.

“You sound better,” she smiled as she handed me a plate with an omelet and toast on it. She came around the island to sit next to me and drink her coffee. “Talk to Jude last night?” Her voice is quiet and teasing, and even though I try to stop it my cheeks warm at the very mention of his name.

“Just texting,” I say, my voice squeaking even though I keep it low in my throat.

She makes this “mhmm” sound as she drinks her coffee and I just stare at my omelet as I eat it quietly; if I look at her then she’s bound to have that grin on her face that will make me both giggle and want to die. “So do you think you want to go without the pain meds today?”

Thank you, I say in my head; because she’s my mom and she knows that even though she knows exactly how happy texts from Jude make me, that it’s also too new to ask much more than if I’ve heard from him and if he’s been busy. The change of subject lightens the air around me. “Yeah,” I say as I cut the last piece of omelet in two. “I’m going stir crazy in here,” I say chewing on one of the last bites. “I was hoping we could go work in your studio for a while today.”

I finally chance a peek over at mom, and I’m very grateful to see that she doesn’t have a grin that would torture me, instead she’s smiling at me softly. “That sounds like a nice idea,” she sounds a bit hesitant.

“What?” I ask, pushing aside my plate and turning my chair so I can look at her head on. “What’s wrong now?”

She’s still smiling softly as she shakes her head and puts down her empty coffee mug. “Nothing sweetheart,” she still doesn’t have me convinced. “It’s just that I think I may be running out of things for you to label and catalog. I’m sure there’s something that I can find for you to keep busy though.”

It dawns on me that it’s been nearly five weeks since I’ve come home, since I’ve started hanging out with her and dad; of course they’ve begun to run out of things to keep me occupied, this is the longest I’ve ever been home without having something else to do-my own life to participate in. “Oh,” I say absently as I turn back to the empty breakfast plate in front of me. Her hand reaches for mine, sits warm on top of it, and rubs little circles into the back of it. Then a thought occurs to me, something that isn’t quite as a surprise as I make it seem when I voice it; I’ve been thinking about this for a few weeks now, but I’ve been scared to actually bring it up. “Maybe you could…”

I lose my nerve and groan, picking up my glass of orange juice instead. “What is it honey?” I shake my head, trying to shake away the insecurities I’m feeling. “Come on, you can tell me anything, ask me anything.”

I take a deep breath and gather my nerves before I just spit it out. “I was just wondering if maybe you could show me some of your painting techniques.”

Mom makes this soft “aw” sound and I kind of cringe a bit, so I just power on to get through it. “It’s just that I’ve seen you when you’re painting and it’s kind of fascinating; but I know you’re busy with your own art so I get that you don’t exactly have time to teach me. Maybe you could just let me use some of your old supplies and I can clean up a little corner of your studio so I can play around with them. I’ll be quiet and I’ll help you out whenever you need.”

I only realize that I’ve been babbling when mom squeezes my hand; my mouth snaps shut and I look over at her. She’s smiling softly, her grip on my hand firm but gentle. “Don’t be silly sweetie,” she sounds close to tears, and i see her eyes shine. She clears her throat and blinks rapidly. “I would love to show you a little painting, why don’t you go shower and get dressed in some old clothes; I’ll clean up here and then we’ll work on setting up a space for you in my studio.”

She draws me into her by the hand that she was holding; she hugs me, rubbing slow circles into my shoulder blades. I feel safe, warm, and so much lighter. “Thanks mom,” I mumble into her shoulder.

She chuckles softly and I hear the tears that are caught in her throat again. “It’ll be nice to have some company,” she says softly as she lets me go. We smile at each other for a moment. “Well,” she says as she stands up, “better get started.”

I can tell that mom’s a little emotional and needs a little bit of time; I have to shower anyway, so I get up and quietly make my way back to my bathroom. When I’m dressed I come back out, but mom’s already in the studio; I hear her call for me from the kitchen, I head into the studio to find it turned upside down; I’d been working on straightening it up for mom, but I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that mom would undo all my hard work.

“Geez mom,” I say as I stand in the doorway of the studio; she’s somewhere behind a pile of drawing pads, at least from the movement’s that are visible from where I’m standing. “I had just organized those into piles; they were separated by medium use.”

Her head pops up, and at least I’ve cleaned enough for her to not have cobwebs in her hair now. She’s smiling so brightly, and I can tell that she doesn’t care that she’s undone all my work; we both know that I’ve been growing bored, so I can spend a little more time organizing. What’s a couple more hours, right?

Mom pulls out a leather bound sketch book, then has to catch the teetering pile of books so that it doesn’t topple over; when that disaster is averted, she holds up the sketch book like it’s a golden apple. “I knew I had this somewhere,” she says gleefully. “All your cleaning had me thinking that I had lost it.” She comes toward me from around her pile and her desk.

She thrust the book towards me, a little too excited; she has to catch ahold of my elbow so I don’t fall back into the door. “Here,” she chuckles as she guides me further into her mess of a studio. “I wanted you to start with this; I love the leather, it always inspires me, I thought it would be great for you. Plus, the paper is a good quality so you can use a variety of mediums.”

I weigh the book in my hands, flip open the cover and run a hand over the first page. “It’s beautiful,” I breathe as I fan through the pages and inhale the musk of the leather binding. “Thanks mom, it’s great.”

When I look up at her, she’s nearly giddy with delight. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to do.” She takes me by the hand and pulls me around her desk and into the center of the studio. We spend a good hour working on figuring out where to set up my portion of the studio, but by the time it’s lunch time things are starting to look better. Mom sets up her desk and then clears off and positions another smaller work desk across from her so that we’ll be working in a shared space.

We take a break for lunch, have sandwiches and chips as we watch an episode of Friends; Ivy has taken to napping in a patch of sunlight on the carpet, but when we’re finished and we head back into the studio she jumps up and follows us. After another couple of hours of straightening up-okay, I was straightening up and mom was tearing things apart looking for things-mom and I are both exhausted but things are set up.

While I’m going over the work space again, exploring the things that mom’s been placing on the desk for me; there’s a box of artist’s pencils, a few lumps of different types of erasers, a box of almost new chalk pastels, a bundle of mixed colored pencils bound with a rubber bands. Just as I’ve finished arranging the things on my desk and in my desk drawers, my mom groans from somewhere deep in one of her closets; I turn around on the stool that we’d found for me to use at the desk, and I see her pulling a dusty tackle box out of the murky closet.

She makes another noise as she drops it heavily on top of my desk, dust floating up in a halo around it; I cover my nose as best I can. “What is that?” I ask, my disgust not very well hidden. I eye the tackle box warily.

She chuckles. “This is an artist kit,” she says brightly as she brushes some more of the dust off with just her hand. “And not those crappy ones you see in the arts and crafts stores; I made this one myself, years ago. Some of it might need updating, but I think that it’ll get you started.”

Ivy’s busy chasing the dust in the air, so I stand up and pick her up as well. “Come on mom,” I say. “Let’s go watch some television; I’m exhausted. We can start again tomorrow.” I rub Ivy’s ears as I make my way to the doorway of the studio. Mom follows behind me, and I can still hear her smiling as we make our way back into the main house.

I pass out in the living room, Ivy curled up next to my head on the couch cushion; I don’t have time to text Jude, which is a good thing, at least I decide that in the morning. I need time; this thing between us, it’s getting more intense every day and I can’t stop myself from being filled up with it. I’m losing myself in this place-it’s like limbo, not quite sure what we are to each other anymore, and yet we’re growing closer. All I want to do is make all the ugliness go away so I can just be with him; not that I’m really capable of being with anyone right now, seeing as I’m practically and invalid. I want to fall, oh good do I want to fall; but I’m so scared. And I don’t know who I’m more scared for; hurting myself, or hurting Jude.

Chapter Text

I get an odd message from Jude late on Thursday night; I’ve been so busy the past two days with mom in the studio I haven’t really had much time to text him, besides I made a complete fool out of myself with the last couple of texts that I did send… Who was I kidding, I can’t flirt, not with Jude and not via text message. Anyway, the message I get as I’m just drifting off to sleep is so sweet, just like Jude’s messages always are, but this time it’s different; he’s been thinking about seeing me. Jude wants to come and see me, he likes the idea-hell, it was his idea. But that doesn’t sink in until I get up in the morning and reread the message once I’m awake; what I do get, in my sleep addled mind, is that Jude wants me to dream about him-which I have been, so there’s no need to ask, but he doesn’t know that.

I wake up on Friday morning with a soft smile on my face; maybe Jude asking me to dream about him was a good idea, because I had an amazing night’s sleep with lots of guess appearances from Jude-I guess I could call him the man of my dreams now (save the flirting for later Connor). I reread the message a couple of times over breakfast, something I wouldn’t have done typically because phones during meals is beyond rude, but I wanted to show mom some of it.

“You’ve been staring at that thing for five minutes,” she grouses, because she’s the one who taught me that phones at meals was beyond rude. “And you’re ignoring the blueberry pancakes I made you.” Her voice is just crossing over to a whine when I look over at her and smile. I just silently slide my phone across the marble counter top towards her before I turn my attention to the stack of fluffy cakes in front of me.

I eat about half the plate, counting the number of heartbeats that fit into the silence; I know she’s reading the messages, I just have to wait for her to finish and react. I’ve got a fork full of pancake poised, just about to hit my open lips, when my mom makes this little squeak sound. I slowly lower my fork back to my plate, carefully collect myself before I turn my head to look at mom.

She’s beaming brightly and I can see her eyes twinkling with glee; she’s got a death grip on my phone, but then there’s another squeak of joy and she puts it back down on the marble countertop. “So,” she says, her voice high pitched and too happy. “His last message…”

Before she can get any further into her joyful display of emotions, I chuckle and push my half eaten pancakes away so I can put my head down on the counter and continue chuckling in embarrassment. I sigh heavily. “Continue,” I groan. Instead, mom puts a soothing hand on my back and starts chuckling along with me.

“Sweetie,” she says softly; I can hear the grin in her voice as well as the happiness. “Why aren’t you excited? It sounds like Jude’s really coming around; in fact, it sounds like he’s really in…”

My head shoots up and my eyes go wide. “Don’t even say it mom,” I burt out.

She smiles again, but this time there’s something other than just giddy happiness behind her eyes. “Honey,” and her hand starts to rub my back. “What’s wrong? Things seem to be going well now.”

I sigh and my hands absently fiddle with the abandoned plate of pancakes and the fork drenched in syrup. “I’m just worried,” I say, picking a blueberry out of one of the pancakes.

There’s a hum followed by a pat on my shoulder. “Does this have something to do with those messages about him just pulling your leg?” I nod my head, ducking it and pressing it down onto the counter top.

We talk about Jude’s roommate and how he had been flirting with me, but then Jude had told me what had really been happening. We finished by moving into the living room and talking about what Jude had been going through with this same roommate since he had stolen his phone. “Oh sweetheart,” mom says as she runs her hands over her face. “I know you must be feeling terrible, but you can’t blame yourself for what Jude’s psycho roommate did; those were his choices.”

I shrug; yes, I feel guilty for having caused so much drama in Jude’s life, and I don’t think I’ll feel better until it’s calmed down, but I’ve worked through a lot of that guilt. “That’s not the whole reason why this is weird.” I say, my voice is quiet. “I guess…” I struggle to find the words for a moment. “I guess maybe I’m… Gun shy?” I make a face and glance over to where she’s sitting on the other side of the couch.

“Oh,” her surprise is evident in her voice, but her face speaks of a pity that I can’t stand so I turn back to the blank screen of the television. “You think this is just a tease? You think Jude’s just just toying with you?”

I can feel my throat tighten up; my fears being voiced by my mother seems to give them a new life and suddenly they’re not so tiny… They’re monsters. “And I can’t help how I feel…” My voice is thick and wavering.

My mom moves closer to me on the couch and in the silence that follows, when I try to fight back the tears, she puts an arm around my shoulders and brings me closer so that our foreheads are pressed together gently. “You love him.” She says softly as a silent tear leaks out of my eyes. “And you’re afraid of getting hurt.”

I let out a stuttering breath as the sobs begin to rack my body; my mother wraps me up in her arms, rocking me a bit as I cry into her shoulders. “It’s okay baby,” mom soothes as she holds me. She shushes me and calms me even when I started babbling incoherently; it takes everything out of me, but eventually I run out of tears. Mom holds me at arm’s length, a sad smile with no pity, as she brushed my hair out of my eyes. “It’s going to be okay sweetheart, but you know that you can’t help the way you feel.”

I nod my head slowly, my eyes are tired and my body is sagging in her grip. I sniffle pathetically. “Why don’t you go back to bed for a little while; you’ll feel better after a little nap. Yeah?” Her eyebrows squish together in a quizzical look.

I nod again mutely. She pulls me in again to press a kiss to my forehead. When I stand up to make my way to my bedroom she gives me another small smile. I let Ivy stay with mom on the couch, since she’s happy and purring in her lap. I make my way to the kitchen first to grab my abandoned phone before I head back to my room; I curl up in my blankets and open up my text messages with Jude. I lay there and look at the words on my screen, my eyes are tired and I drift off at some point; my head is filled with warm thoughts of Jude as I snuggle deeper into blankets and pillows.

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when I start dreaming, but eventually I dream of Jude; I feel a warm weight settle on my hip and in my dream it’s Jude’s hand that caresses my hip and moves gently from my hip to around my waist. It’s sunny and tropical in my dream; Jude and I are spooning on a beach, sharing a beach towel, the white sand actually behaving and the sun not beating down too hard. Dreams are always a bit tricky; I know it’s Jude in my dream, but I can’t see his face because he’s behind me. Even in my dream I’m sleepy; the sun is doing a good job at making the world shimmer around us.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I hear myself say in the dream; my eyes are fluttering closed in the balmy sunshine.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Jude’s voice is soft and warm in my ear.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” My heart leaps even in the dream as I confess my real feelings. “I’ve missed you. I’m glad we’re here now.”

“No more time lost,” Jude’s phantom lips press to my neck.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t supposed to be like this; everything else had gone as planned. I had taken an Uber to the train station, the train had been early, and the ticket had been discounted since I was a student so I had a little extra to buy myself a cup of coffee in the dining car. So why was it that after the first five hours on the train that I suddenly couldn’t focus on the assignments that I was supposed to be working on during the trip… The answer was simple, Connor. I was nervous and excited and feeling just a little like I was going to throw up any second.

I still had close to seven hours left before I was supposed to arrive at Union Station; I had to try to calm myself down. And try I did, I really did; I found a not so crowded car and paced up and down the aisle for a while, but when I started to feel a different kind of nausea building up I decided to find somewhere a little different to focus my energy. I spent at least an hour in the dining car, sitting in a corner booth, drawing doodle portraits of the random people on the train that sat still long enough. When that had finally calmed me down, and all the adrenaline had seeped out of me, I made my way back into the regular train cars; I found an empty seat in a quiet car and dozed on and off for an hour and a half.

By the time I reached Los Angeles it’s four in the afternoon-earlier than I had thought, but still later than I had wanted. I had packed light, just my duffel and my book bag; when I hailed my Uber, it made it easier to cram my things into the back of the silver Prius. It took another half hour to get through the Los Angeles traffic and into the hills that surround the city. It hadn’t taken me too long to narrow down the possible addresses of Connor’s mom’s house in L.A. and after doing a little digging I had figured out which one was her’s; boy did I hope that I wasn’t wrong, I thought as I told the Uber driver to park at the end of the street.

With my duffel bag slung over my right shoulder and my book bag clutched in my left hand, I walked along the sidewalk; the street was winding and slightly up hill; the view as I walk up the street is amazing, with the valley and the city nestled into the greenery of the untouched hillsides, only peppered with country-style homes… Like the one that I approach after a few more paces; I round the corner and see it standing there with a line of pepper trees on either side of the walkway that goes up to the front porch. The house is larger than I had expected, and yet smaller than what would be considered “Los Angeles”.

I realize that I’ve been standing at the end of the path staring at the house for several minutes, but only when my shoulders start to feel heavy with fatigue. Even though it’s later in the day, the sun is still high and the light is warm as honey. I take a calming breath before I take the first step up that path, the one that will lead me to the boy that I’ve been thinking about for weeks.

I surprise myself; I make it all the way to the front steps before I freeze up again. I stand there, just staring at the stone facade of the front of the house; suddenly I can’t remember why I thought it was such a good idea for me to come here without telling anyone. I was stupid; Connor would see me as some psycho… Oh god, I was going to be just like Paolo. I was skipping out on my meeting with Paolo; damn, but it was way too late to do anything about that now. I should just leave, maybe I could find a cheap hotel to stay at at just get on the first train out of town in the morning. I could tell Connor that I had been sick and that’s why I hadn’t call or texted in a few days. I shouldn’t be here…

“Um,” I blinked; my eyes were watering at how long I had just been standing there, numb and staring. I hadn’t even noticed the middle-aged blonde woman who had stepped outside; she was giving me a funny look, her hand still on the doorknob of the front door. “Can I help you?” her voice is calm, but I see her eyes flick down to the duffel bag on my shoulder; a glint of wariness flashes there.

I swallow down my fears; it’s now, there is no other option now. “Ms. Stevens?” My voice is quiet and timid.

“Yes?” She lets go of the doorknob, crossing her slender arms over her paint splattered shirt.

I smile weakly, hoping to get through this awkwardness as quickly as possible. “You wouldn’t remember me, I don’t think we ever really met before you moved here. I’m Jude…”

I had expected something more like shock, a dropped jaw maybe; I mean there was shock, a little, before suddenly she was rushing down the steps to me. She grabbed my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length, turning be this way and that for a moment. Maybe Connor had shown her my picture… Either way, the next thing I knew was she was hugging me tightly, and awkwardly, to her.

“Nice…” I managed to huff. “To meet you?”

She released me, her face pinched with the gigantic smile on her face. “I can’t believe you came all this way,” she squeaks. She’s practically pulling me up the steps now; she slides the strap of my duffel bag off my shoulder and takes it. “Alright, hold on.” Suddenly she pulls me to a stop, not that I’ve been leading. She looks me in the eye; she’s where Connor got the green in his eyes I note. “How long are you here for?”

It’s Friday afternoon, which means that I can stay until Monday; I had originally only planned on staying till Sunday, but what was one more day in the grand scheme of things? If I was going to ditch class, might as well enjoy my time. “I should leave Monday morning.”

She smiles again, but this time it’s a softer look. “You can stay in the upstairs spare room. I’ll go fix it up for you.” She’s about to reach out with her other hand to open the front door.

“Where’s Connor? I’d like to be the one to surprise him.” I stammer, holding her back just for a moment.

She looks at me, this time I can see her wicked grin as she giggles. “He’s in his room, taking a nap; he’s had a long day already.” She opens the door and leads me into the house; it’s eclectic and homey, everything warm and earthy around me. She points down a hallway to the left. “His is the first door on the right, the kitchen is at the end. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” She gives me another tight hug, but it lasts a much shorter time.

I watch her as she moves forward to the wooden stairs that are set into the opposite wall; she’s only a few steps up when she turns back to me with a sly smile. “Oh, and dear,” I nod to let her know I’m listening. “Try not to scare him too much when you wake him.” She giggles and continues back up the stairs.

I wait another moment before I turn to the hall that she had pointed out; it’s a well-lit corridor, high ceilinged, with family pictures placed along one wall. I realize I still have my book bag in my hand, and I know I don’t want to take that into Connor’s room; it could make a mess if I drop it or jostle it too much. I gently place it down near the front door before I start down the hall.

I’m pretty sure that I was in a trance, either than or I black out in nervous anticipation; the next thing I’m acutely aware of is quietly opening Connor’s bedroom door and slipping inside; the shades are down, everything’s gloomy, and there’s the soft heavy breathing of Connor’s creating filling my ears. And the room is filled with the smell of him; clean, like soap and shampoo, lavender, eucalyptus, and a muskiness that I knew intrinsically was just Connor-his skin, his sweat, his essence. And as I stood at the door, breathing him in, and my eyes adjusted, I saw him; his bed was pushed against one wall, and he was curled up like a ball. I took a step closer, not that I had intentionally thought about it.

Connor’s sandy hair was longer, it was all over the place; he had his head pillowed on his arm, the pillows long forgotten above his head. The only part of him that
wasn’t balled up was his lower half; his knees should have been tucked up to his chin, his strong thighs were clad in grey sweatpants and he was wearing a loose fitting t-shirt. As I moved closer, I was able to see more of Connor; his shirt had ridden up and his sweatpants were slung low on his hips. And I could see why; it was more comfortable for him. I could see the red, the dark metal, and the sparse bandaging on his lower abdomen.

I quietly toed off my tennis shoes and took my phone from my jean’s pocket; after I put it next to Connor’s on his night stand, I gingerly slipped onto the bed behind Connor. He was close enough to the wall that I was able to settle down without touching him yet; I let my hip settle deep into the soft mattress-god, I had forgotten how good mattresses could be. I kept myself propped up on one arm, my upper body carefully craning over Connor’s.

I stared down at the boy who I’d been thinking of constantly. My eyes kept falling back to the glint of the metal staples in his skin; my first instinct was to place a hand against it, but I knew that would hurt him and I didn’t want him to wake to pain… If I were honest, my second thought was to press kisses there; it would have been very difficult to contort that way. I stared at him for a moment longer, trying to remember the last time I had been this close to him; when I couldn’t stand the couple of inches that separated us any longer I made my decision. Slowly, and with as much gentleness as I would use on an injured animal, I placed the hand that wasn’t supporting my weight on Connor’s partially exposed hip. I shuddered, trying to remember how to breath. And Connor made this sound, like a sigh, in his sleep.

I was done. I could stay here forever. Not that I was going to admit that to anyone, let alone Connor, any time soon.

Chapter Text

Warm, that’s what I felt; everyone, mom and dad, even some of the people I had been with, they had all remarked that I was warm even though I could never feel it-must have just been because I was inside my skin and they weren’t… But now, now there was something around me that was warm; I wonder if this is what others’ had meant when they said that I was warm. It started on my hip, a light warmth that seeped into my skin; it was like someone had poured warm honey on my hip bone, and it just trickled down a little until it was warming my whole left side of my waist.

I didn’t want to wake up though, I was dreaming of Jude and we were still on the beach. But then the warmth spread even further, all along my back and shoulders; I could feel the dream slipping away, like I was slowly being air-lifted off of that beach and leaving Jude below. The warmth stayed steady, it didn’t move or spread anymore, but I was still drifting towards it and away from my dreamland. As my brain started to fight off both the conscious and the unconscious, my body acted without much interference; I made a noise, something both happy and disgruntled, and eventually I rolled over in an attempt to get comfortable and fall back asleep.

Instead, when I rolled over, the warmth that had been gently caressing my back was suddenly pressed against my face. It was soft, soft enough that I snuggled into it without even thinking about it; with my face pressed into the soft warmth I felt good. I felt that warmth move and I still didn’t feel concerned; I vaguely remember thinking how could something be warm, soft, and solid all at the same time as the warmth snaked around my waist again. Something about this felt right, and even though I should have been mad that whatever this warm thing was had taken away my dream of Jude, I couldn’t help the way I sighed and snuggled even deeper into the warmth.

I was about to fall back asleep; I could tell because my brain was just going to shut off, both sides were going to lose and I was going to go back to dreamland. Except that didn’t exactly happen. I was falling asleep, tucking into the soft warm thing, when I felt a soft breeze against my ear; in the grand scheme of things, a breeze really shouldn’t be allowed to wake a person up… It’s just mean.

The breeze repeated, this time closer and warmer than before; I swatted at it blindly, my hand waving limply before falling back to my side. Why did I swat at the air when air doesn’t respond to physical attacks-don’t ask me, I wanted to be asleep.

The breeze occurs another time, longer and slower and even more warm; I lift my hand to do something-whether it’s to swat at the wind again or simply cover my ear, I can’t tell you. And we’ll never find out. And it doesn’t matter any more. Because a very warm solid thing wraps around my raised wrist, firm but gentle; it doesn’t let me go even when my arm does limp because I’m still half asleep.

“Good morning,” a voice breaths into my ear; the same ear that the breeze had been teasing. It too is like warm honey, but in a different way; I want to snuggle further into the warmth that my nose is pressed into, but suddenly a piece of me wants to be awake.

My eyes flutter; all I see is light blue, but there are crinkles and waves in it. “I’ve wanted to see you,” the voice says into my ear, still unbelievably soft and quiet. I mumble something, and I’m not even sure if it was supposed to be words; and there’s a soft laugh and the warmth around me vibrates with it, still not letting go of my wrist.

“You really like this shirt, don’t you?” The voice says sweetly and my eyes flutter again, my head pulling back slightly to try to see more clearly. It is a shirt, I think as my eyelids droop closed again, my head staying lifted on its own.

“Do that again,” the voice pleads sweetly, but I only make a grumble in reply because I don’t know what this warm thing wants-what does he want me to do again. “I want to see those gorgeous eyes again.” It’s whispered in my ear, and this time I can’t really be mad at that.

I feel my lips tug into a sleepy smile before a soft sigh escaped my lips; my eyes fluttered again, but given the proximity to the very soft warm shirt, I stretched to shove my nose back into that fabric. “Ah ah,” the voice seemed to think this was not a good thing, but it was so warm and safe.

Though the warmth around me seemed to engulf me even further, the warmth and the shirt began to slowly pull away from my face. “I think I know how to wake my sleeping beauty,” the voice suddenly fell lower and sent a pulse through me. My eyes fluttered again, this time just as another something warm touches me…

A pair of soft warm lips press against my sleepy ones, quickly and sweetly; my eyelids fell shut at the lovely sensation, but once those lips vanished my eyes shot open-looking for those lips. I would chase those lips, but I think I may have died…

“Jude?”

“Look who woke up,” and the smile that he gave me sent my head spinning.

I opened my mouth, hoping to say something remotely intelligent; however one look into Jude’s warm chocolate brown eyes, and I didn’t want to waste this if it was a dream. I leaned forward, my free arm finding his hip and my lips closing around his bottom lip. If this was a dream, then I was going to enjoy it; Jude was everything I wanted, right now and forever. I felt his grip tighten on my hip and I let him pull me closer to him; however, as the gap between us vanished, our lower stomachs touched and searing pain shot through me.

I gasped and forced myself to roll onto my back and take a shaky breath; my staples and sutures were pulsing with pain, and I was given a clear reality check-this wasn't a dream anymore. “Are you okay? I’m sorry,” Jude’s voice was full of concern, but he didn’t make a move to come closer to me as I lay there breathing.

That wouldn’t do, I thought. I reached out my arm and caught a hold of his shirt in a fist; I pulled him forward, so his torso was leaning over me. He still seemed concerned so I gave him a soft smile and then leaned up to press my lips to his. Jude… My mind kept repeating his name, trying to believe that he was here. Everything was unreal. Except for those warm lips. Those were most definitely real, I know because I sucked on them for a few minutes straight.

Chapter Text

I had been patient, gentle, and gone as slow as I could stand, but eventually I just couldn’t stand it any longer; with Connor snuggled up to me, his nose buried in my chest, his eyelids fluttering seductively, and swatting at my breath in his ear. I just couldn’t help myself, when his head was tilted in just the right way…

And I was not disappointed; Connor’s lips were as soft and sweet as I had imagined them, even more so. And the way he had sighed, his eyelids falling closed, and the way he seemed to melt into me as I gently pressed my lips to his; I kept it short, not wanting to overwhelm Connor by going to fast. Besides, by the way Connor’s eyes go wide when they slowly flutter open, I can tell that he’s not really sure about what’s happening. Before I can say anything anything, even a hello, Connor is smiling into my mouth as he steals my breath away with a fevered kiss.

I tried to be gentle, I really did; I kept my hand on his hip, tried to keep it from wandering but I felt Connor stretching to get closer. I thought I was being careful. I thought I was being so gentle. But then somehow I was pulling Connor closer so that he didn’t have to stretch so much, and then suddenly Connor was gone and there was a hiss of pain as he fell back against his bed. And instead of kissing the boy I was laying in bed with, suddenly I was concerned that I had hurt him-and that was the last thing in the world I had wanted.

I heard myself asking questions, my voice shaking, and my heart thrumming inside my chest as I stayed perfectly still; I was so afraid, I didn’t want to make anything worse, even though every inch of my skin was burning to touch him again. I didn’t want to crowd him; he was probably still a little shocked by my sudden appearance, and from his ragged breathing I could tell our kiss had taken his breath away.

But Connor had other ideas; a moment later, his eyes flickered toward me and his hand shot out to twist into the front of my shirt. I let out a muffled “oomph” as Connor pulled me down onto him; I had enough sense to angle my body so that most of my weight was pinned to his side and shoulder. I couldn’t help the whimper that I let Connor swallow up as our lips slotted together.

I lost track of how long I spent nibbling and sucking on Connor’s lips, but eventually he turned his head to gasp for air, his breath hot on the shell of my ear. “Am I dreaming?” He panted into my ear. I chuckled as I moved my lips to his long, elegant neck. “If I am, I don’t want to wake up.” He pressed an open mouth to my neck and I shuddered.

“What if I’m real?” I breath into his skin, my teeth dragging across his skin. “What if you’re awake?”

Connor stills; I mean, he practically turns to stone under my mouth and hands. His breathing becomes almost nonexistent. I don’t know what to do, so I slide my hands down to his hips slowly, but I stop my assault on his neck. I gently nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder as my breathing turns quiet just like his.

“Jude?” He breaths into my ear, the wonder and hope in his voice nearly breaking my heart.

I pull back enough to find his eyes, those beautiful eyes, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed; Connor is here, right in front of me, looking at me as if I’m the sun and the moon, and I can’t remember if I’m dreaming anymore either. And I see it flash across Connor’s face; that I’m really here, that he really kissed me, and that we’re lying on his bed together. And then the tears begin to well up in his eyes, and before I can even say anything to sooth him, he’s wrapped his arms around my neck and buried his face under my chin. I can’t help but shudder at the feel of his moist lips press against my adam’s apple.

“Jude…” Connor whimpers against me as my voice dies in my throat. “Jude…” he breaths, this time accompanied by the hot sting of tears that fall on my neck and chest. Connor’s just gasping my name as the tears flow out of him.

I let my arms slide from his hips up his back until I’m cradling him, his body soft and pliant as I hold him. I make soothing sounds, rub his should blades, and breathe his name into his ear to remind him that I’m real. “It’s okay Connor,” I whisper, my voice so filled with love I barely recognize it. “I’m here,” I say softly and I feel his grip tighten around the nape of my neck. “I’m here.”

Connor whimpers a few more times, but his tears slowly stop flowing. “I missed you so much,” Connor says softly as he slowly eases back a bit. His eyes look surprisingly green now because the rest of his eyes are bloodshot from crying.

“I missed you too Connor,” I sigh, leaning forward to press my forehead to his. “And I couldn’t wait until Spring Break. I had to see you, and I’m sorry if I startled you or hurt you or…”

Connor swallowed my worried words, sucking on my bottom lip until I gasped and then snaking his tongue slowly into my mouth. I make a strangled “mmmm” sound before Connor is chuckling against my lips. “Sorry,” he says sweetly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Chapter Text

This was real? He was real? He was here. And he was kissing me. Or was I kissing him? I couldn’t tell any more, but I was beyond that at the moment. Right now I’m about how Jude’s looking at me; those molten chocolate eyes that are melting my insides. I don’t even care that my hip, the one that’s been pressed into the mattress, is completely numb right now; because Jude’s so close to me that I can hear his breath as he exhales and feel it as it washes over my collarbone. Because Jude, my Jude, the Jude that is laying next to me on my bed only a few inches away, is suddenly very shy; he was blushing and his face was tilted down, eyes turned down even though I could see the soft grin. The best part of my Jude being shy is that with his head hung down he practically had his forehead pressed to my shoulder; if my sutures weren’t still stinging from my staples I would inch closer.

“You’re not mad then?” His voice was quiet, but I could feel his fingers playing at the hem of my shirt; every time his fingers graze my skin I feel goosebumps rise up along my spine.

I cup his chin in the crook of my index finger and use my free hand to lift his head so that those amazing eyes are looking straight into mine; he seems afraid that I might actually be upset. “Not a chance handsome,” I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face as he seems to deflate with a huge sigh of relief. “Now can I get more kisses please?”

Jude doesn’t need any more encouragement, but he takes his time; each little thing sends shock waves through me. Jude leans toward me slowly, his eyelids half closed; it isn’t until he’s just a hair away the I realize that as he’s move closer I’ve lowered my head practically onto his shoulder. So when Jude’s lips finally find mine again I melt into him, his hands slowly massaging circles into my hips and our eyes close as we meld into each other. I open my mouth as Jude’s tongue teases at the corner of my mouth, a whimper slipping from my mouth into his as he uses that tongue to drive me crazy. I have too much of a desire to eat Jude’s lips, at least that’s what I think; until I twirl my tongue out of my mouth long enough to lick and suck and nibble Jude’s bottom lip, and I hear Jude emit a low sound and feel his hands move around me tighter.

Eventually, as I knew would happen, we needed to breathe; Jude’s lips trailed along my jaw, the speed so slow that my brain is too over stimulated to realize that in between kisses Jude is trying to say something. “Huh?” I mumble against his ear.

There’s a slight vibration against my skin as he laughs lightly. “I just thought it was important to let you know that your mom knows that I’m in here,” he says softly as he moves to lick along my clavicle. “I don’t know how long she’ll give us.”

I pout into his hair before I realize that my nose is pressed into his hair; I inhale deeply, nuzzling even more into the silky strands. “What time is it anyway?” I whisper.

Jude’s lips flutter against my shoulder in butterfly kisses that verge on tickling. “Not sure anymore, could be tomorrow for all I know.”

I groan softly into his ear before I press a kiss to his earlobe. “I guess we should get up then.” My words are so hard to say, so I let them fall from my lips as slowly as honey from a bottle.

Jude sighs heavily before he pulls away from my shoulder. I can tell that it’s difficult for me, that he feels drawn to me just as much as I am to him; like it might physically hurt him to pull away from me enough to take a deep breath and look into my eyes. “Your mom seems nice,” Jude says softly as he begins to shift slightly on the bed, wiggling so that he’s slowly inching closer to the edge of the bed. “You have her eyes I think.”

I make a soft grumble that turns into a whine as Jude’s legs slide off the bed and onto the floor so he’s awkwardly twisted and leaning on the bed. “Do you need a hand?” His voice is sudden serious again, a worry wrinkle in between his eyebrows. I push up so I’m a little closer to him as he straightens up; he’s taller now, or maybe it just seems like that since he’s standing and I’m still laying on the bed. It isn’t until I’m stretching up to meet him that I realize that my sutures are still sore; the wince that pinches my face only makes Jude’s brow wrinkle even more.

“Give me a hand?” I squeak, my cheeks coloring with embarrassment. Jude’s frown disappears instantly, replaced by a soft smile. I let Jude loop his arm under my arm and around my back so that he can scoop me up practically; he lets me go when I start to giggle, but it’s enough. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and slowly sit up-each movement straining the staples and sending pricks of pain radiating into my belly.

“You okay?” Jude’s worrying again, I can see it in his eyes and in his face. I smile through the pain in my gut and I take a hold of the hem of Jude’s soft t-shirt. I smile up at him through my lowered eyelashes before I gently pull him down to meet my lips in a soft kiss.

It’s innocent, and by the time it ends a few seconds later we’re both smiling. “I’m good,” I whisper as I press a quick peck to his lips again. “You’re here, that’s all that matters right now.”

“So cheesy,” Jude chuckles as his cheeks pink up. “And so sweet,” he presses his lips to the side of my head before straightening up; he gave me his hands and helped me get to my feet.

“Come on,” I can’t help but grin as I wrap myself around him in a warm hug and mumble into his shoulder. “You haven’t met dad yet, and I think he’s got a few things that he’s been meaning to say to you.”

Jude chuckles into my neck, his warm breath sweetly caressing my skin and sending a shiver down my spine. “Well then I guess we should go out and say hello,” and when I make an unhappy noise in my throat when he tries to detangle our limbs he laughs again. Eventually we end up compromising, with Jude’s arm draped around my shoulder and my arm snaked around his waist.

Jude’s about to turn the doorknob, which will burst our little bubble; right now it’s just Jude and me, and the moment that door opens the rest of the world would come flooding in. I make a noise and Jude’s hand freezes; he looks at me, his face confused for a moment. But, I smile and I smash my nose into his chest. “I’m so glad that you’re here,” I mumble before I look back at those beautiful eyes. “And I can’t wait for you to meet Ivy.”

Jude’s lips land on the top of my head. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Chapter Text

I held Connor’s hand, no, that’s not exactly right; I was practically hanging onto Connor for dear life, his hand was just the one place where our bodies were touching. Okay, and that’s a bit of a lie because Connor quickly snaked his arm around my torso and I quickly eased my arm around his shoulder; it was as if the closer I was to him the easier it was to breathe.

I opened Connor’s door after I kiss his unruly sand-blonde hair, but I let Connor do the leading. It is his house after all; even though I’ve only been here for a short time, I feel as if I fit right into every nook and cranny. Connor slowly starts walking us through the house until we make our way into the living room area; there’s soft sounds coming from above our heads. “Mom must still be making up the spare room,” Connor says as he maneuvers us towards the television and the variety of eclectic leather sectional couches that had an array of colorful and comfortable looking throw pillows strewn about them. “Let’s just hang out here until she comes down.”

When Connor winces as he reaches for the remote control that’s sitting on the coffee table in front of the television I make a soft noise as I wrap my arms around his waist; he sags against me, like he was a second away from falling. “Why don’t you get comfortable on the couch,” I whisper into his ear as he slowly straightens up, his back pressed to my chest and his head lolling against my shoulder. “I’ll get the remote. Do you need anything else?”

Connor sighed and turned in my arms so that he could wrap his arms around my neck and look up at me with those jade eyes, my heart nearly stuttered to a halt. “Just you,” he said quietly. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and ran his hands into the hair at the nape of my neck before he slowly ran those graceful hands down my arms till we gently separated. I watched him through heavily lidded eyes; when I was sure that he was settling down on the couch, I went to grab the remote.

When I make it over to Connor he’s already situated himself against an armrest, plenty of pillows around his torso, and a space for me to slide into behind him; it only takes a look and an outstretched hand from Connor before I’m sliding in easily, half my body snug behind him and the other half curled into him. I hand over the remote, not even caring what we watch as long as I can stay here with Connor’s back muscles slowly relaxing into my chest.

Connor sighs, settles back, and clicks the television on; he flips through the channels, but I know he’s not paying attention because his eyes keep flickering to mine. He settles on a movie, something with a vampire or a wizard, but soon enough I feel him shifting. “You okay?” I ask softly, craning to see if I’ve done something to irritate his operation site. “Your staples hurt?”

Connor made a little noise, but it wasn’t pained. He turned some more until he was leaning back against the armrest, which made my arms feel empty until I look at Connor and see something in his eyes. “Come here,” he say so sweetly, his arms reaching out and his hands running up my chest in a loving caress. “I want to lay here with you and pretend like this is real for a little while longer.”

His words are so tender and his eyes are filled with… the only word that fits is love. I don’t say anything, just gently let myself fall into his arms, settle into the space at his side until I lay my head on his shoulder. “I’m real Connor,” I whisper, my hand moving to his hip. “I wish I could stay here for more than just a long weekend, but at least I’m here now.”

Connor hums softly and I feel his hand running over my chest; I’m suddenly aware of how close we’ve been, how I can’t seem to keep my hands off him, and that the nipple that Connor’s tantalizingly close to brushing is already pebbled under the cotton of my t-shirt. My mouth falls open, my eyes close, and I can’t stop the soft mewl that escapes me; I also feel my face heat up and Connor’s hand stills. “I guess we’ll just have to make the most of our time together,” his voice is husky as he breaths into my ear.

Chapter Text

Now that he was here, and even though I was still sure that I had dreamt him up, I realized just how much I wanted Jude here; I wanted him with me, as if nothing had happened and all the time and pain that had passed between us was the real dream. The dark haired, slimly built boy I had known and crushed on while I was a thirteen year old was now the tall, handsome, sexy man that was snuggled into my side with his strong arms wrapped around me as gently as if he thought I was glass. And I could feel him, under my hands, as I touched him; his body turning from soft and pliant to tense like a wire pulled tight.

I was going to lean in, capture his partially parted lips to see if I could get his body to respond any further to me. But a the moment came to a crashing halt when Jude hard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs; I felt his tension shift, instead of being centered where my hand was placed on his chest I could feel his shoulders tighten up as his eyes opened.

As those footsteps came to a stand still on the stairs, I cursed in the momentary silence; my mother’s bubbly voice chimed from where I knew she was probably standing, grinning at us. “You’re room’s all made up if you want to get settled Jude,” and Jude’s face smiled through his embarrassed blush as he propped himself up on his elbow.

He turned to look at mom, and even thought he squirmed to put some space in between our bodies, I kept my arms wrapped firmly around his waist; he quickly got the message and halted his escape. “Thanks Ms. Stevens.” I peered over Jude’s head as he chuckled softly; my mom was indeed standing in the middle of the stairs, a smile on her face.

I send a silent plea to any deity that might be listening, but unfortunately before she continues her descent down the stairs mom just can’t help but add an embarrassing comment. “You boys seem awfully comfy there,” and I swear her eyes lock on mine, even as they’re half hidden by Jude’s mussed hair. “Just don’t scare your dad before you have a chance to introduce him to Jude…”

“Mom,” I squeak.

She reaches the bottom of the stairs, turning toward the kitchen, but her smile widens. “He hasn’t seen Jude since you were both thirteen, he might not recognize him; he could think that some strange man is molesting his precious son.” And with that she giggled and turned into the kitchen without another word.

I buried my face in Jude’s chest, his laughter vibrating through his body and into mine. “This is so embarrassing.” I groan, which only makes Jude laugh harder.

“She’s being so cool about it,” he sighs a few moments later. “It’s so different than I thought.”

I sigh, snuggling closer to Jude. “When I woke up after the surgery,” I say slowly as I breathe in the smell Jude. “She was there; I told her everything. I told her how much I loved you when we were kids, how I had been so scared, and that my entire life after age thirteen had been a mistake.”

I wasn’t sure what I expected, but Jude curled around me and let a muffled noise get lost in my hair. “You were really in love with me?” His voice is horse, muffled by my hair. “I thought you were just saying that to get my attention,” I hear the hitch in his throat as he continues. “I guess part of me thought that maybe when I got here you would change your story. I should have never doubted you.”

I should have been hurt, that Jude hadn’t believed me or that he thought that I had fabricated an elaborate lie to try to seduce him; but I couldn’t be, we hadn’t seen each other since we were teenagers, and the way we had left things then had left no trust or respect… We were starting over, but I could feel it here and now… Jude believed me, he could feel my heart was open… Or at least, he was starting to; the way he was holding me to him and breathing in my scent as his nose was buried in my hair. With a huge sigh of relief I snuggled even further into Jude’s chest. “It’s nice that you’re here,” I murmur into his shirt.

We stay like that for a long while; I like the sturdy feel of Jude as I run my hands up and down his back slowly. I love hearing Jude breathing softly in my ear, so much so I feel it lulling me into a sort of trance. That is, until he harsh sound of the landline ringing disrupts our cozy cocoon. It rings a few times before I hear mom pick it up and say “hello”; I expect to just settle back into Jude’s warmth, but just as I was getting comfortable again I heard mom walk into the room.

“Connor?” I make a sleepy mumble and try to pull my face out of Jude’s shoulder. She sounds quiet, almost too quiet; there’s an edge to it that I can’t place.

“What mom?” I whine, slowly raising up on an elbow and opening my eyes. “We weren’t doing anything; I swear, we’re just cuddling.” When my eyes finally focus, mom’s face is blank except for the pinch in her forehead. I sit up a little straighter, leaning over Jude so I can lean closer to her as I brace my elbows on the back of the couch. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t say anything at first; she holds up her hand, the cordless phone clutched in it and she waves it slightly. “It’s the doctor’s office; they’ll only speak to you.” Her voice is hollow as she stands there.

I’m frozen; how could I have forgotten that it had been almost a week since that horrible day, had forgotten the unknown hanging over me, and even now was debating just telling them to call back another day… That’s right, Jude. “Doctor?” His voice is curious, coming from somewhere under my armpit. There’s a second before he realizes, then… “Oh, the doctor.”

I struggle to get off the couch, first by clawing my way over Jude and the back of the couch which inevitably ends in me recoiling due to the pain in my abdomen; as I curl into a loose ball, falling back onto the couch, Jude takes the initiative to detangle our limbs and slide easily over me and onto the carpet before straightening up. “Here,” he says as he reaches down to wrap his arms around my shoulders and help me become vertical. “I’ll be with you, no matter what; we’ll go to your room, where it’s quiet, and you’ll listen to what they have to say and then we’ll get through it together.” His words were soft, spoken only to me; his hands in mine, that was just for me as well but for a different reason… He was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Jude’s eyes focused solely on me, our hands intertwined, as we stood there and breathed together for a moment; I could feel it, all around me, like he was trying to make sure that I knew he was real before he did or said anything else. I know what he’s waiting for, and when my heart stops stuttering and my breathing isn’t as ragged, I nod my head-or maybe I just jerk my chin up, but it’s the same effect. He keeps hold of one of my hands, but he leads me towards my room; as we pass mom, he takes the phone from her and she gives him a soft smile in response. Jude’s hand in mine is the only thing that I allow myself to focus on; I don’t realize that we’ve made it back to my room until Jude is helping me sit on the edge of my bed, his hand on my shoulder now. I look up at him, my eyes glazed with the sudden rush of anxiety that

“You okay?” He whispers, and even though I’m not I nod again. “You ready?” He holds up the phone. I want to die; I want this to be over and to move passed it already, but there is no way around it. I nod my head again, even if I feel numb as I take the phone from him; it feels heavy in the palm of my hand, but I focus instead on the solid feeling of Jude’s body as he sits next to me. When his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and I can hear his breath in my ear I take a shuddering breath before I bring the phone up to my ear.

My voice is shaky, my eyes are closed, and my body is pressed against Jude. “Hello? This is Connor Stevens.”

Chapter Text

I feel like I’m smothering Connor, almost sitting on his lap with my arm snaked around his waist and holding him so tightly to me that our hips are glued together and every time one of us breathes we can both feel it. And yet, when I hear Connor’s shaking voice say “Hello? This is Connor Stevens.” and I try to give him a little space to keep his conversation somewhat private; I’m about to draw my arm away from him, maybe even scoot away a little bit, but Connor’s hand finds mine and latches onto it with an iron grip. So, I just hold on as tight as I dare, closing my eyes as I place my chin gently on Connor’s shoulder.

Even being this close the voice on the other end of the phone is mumbled and unclear because I’m on one side of Connor’s head and the phone is pressed to his
opposite ear. I simply hold Connor close, breathing in his scent, and listening to the words that he says. Unfortunately there’s a lot of silence on Connor’s end.

“Yes, that’s right; Connor Stevens.”

More silence…

“Uh huh, about a week ago.”

Even more silence…

“The full S.T.I. blood panel, that’s twenty-four different tests; right?”

Silence, again…

“I can’t remember the doctor’s name, maybe Dr. Watts?”

a short silence…

“Yes, I’m ready; I want to know now, I’d rather not wait.”

A long silence, and Connor’s practically shaking, so I hold him even tighter; his thumb runs over my knuckles.

“And you’re sure? Do I need to get tested again? There’s no chance that there are mistakes in the results? Do I need a follow up?” He’s rambling and his voice is squeaky. “And you’re really sure?”

I take a breath, nosing at his hair and mouthing at his ear. “Thank you, good bye.” I hear the line go dead as Connor clicks to end the call; he drops the phone on the bed somewhere on his other side. It’s quiet again, but at least his shaking ebbs away; I don’t want to push, that’s the last thing that I want to do even though this waiting is making my insides turn to ice. So, I keep holding on to him; his breathing evens out even as he’s turning to stone in my arms.

I try to contain myself, to think only of Connor, but after several agonizing minutes of just silence I can’t help but whisper in his ear. “Do you want to talk about it?” It’s the simplest thing I can think to say, the least dangerous, and possibly the least humiliating. He wasn’t okay, whether or not the news was good or bad, because I knew how much pain and suffering he’s been going through this past week; I stayed on the phone with him as he cried his heart out, only wishing I could old him like I was now.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but his hands snake around himself and when he finds my hands on either side of his waist his fingers twist around mine. “You’re still real, right?” He whispers hoarsely as his eyes lower to where our fingers are busy playing with each other in his lap.

“Yeah,” I say softly, my lips against his jawline. “Still very real.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, like his entire body is deflating. “Good,” he says quietly and then my arms are struggling slightly to hold onto my boy as he turns in my arms so that he’s facing me; when he’s settled into my arms again, his eyes are glistening with unshed tears, I’m almost frightened at what might come next.

I’m certainly not expecting for Connor to lean into me, for his hands to come up and cup my jaw as his thumbs caress my cheeks; I gasp into the kiss and my surprise is rewarded with Connor’s gentle tongue licking into my mouth. I might be surprised, but I can work with this; I keep one hand on Connor’s waist, but I let the other drift up until it can fist in his shirt front. We kiss until we can’t breathe and then I’m left panting as Connor licks down my jaw and makes his way to my neck; as the oxygen is returning to my brain I realize that Connor’s hands have done some moving of their own.

I make a strangled noise that escapes my throat in an almost embarrassing way as I feel Connor sucking on my neck as I feel his hands run down my chest. Connor swallows down my “oomph” with his lips as I feel his fingers dip into the waistband of my jeans. “Connor?” I mumble against his lips as those fingers dip a little further in and begin fiddling with the extra fabric.

The only response that I get is a hum that’s more on the verge of a growl, lust reverberating through his lips and into mine. But his fingers move again, this time going for the button of my jeans; I can’t just ignore this. “Connor,” I say and just as he’s about to pop the button I grab his hands in mine. I realize that my eyes have been close, but now I open them; I hold Connor frozen, a pout slowly tugging at his lips even though his cheeks are rosy. “I want to know what the doctor said.” I lean forward to peck his lips, but the pout settles on his face.

“I thought it was obvious,” he huffs huskily; he stares at my mouth, like he’s considering just leaning forward and attacking my lips. When I don’t move, and my eyes continue to stare into those hazel gems, he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’m clean,” he sounds like he’s still questioning it. “Everything came back negative; they said I should get checked out every six months just to be safe, but I’m fine.”

I feel as if my face might break in half as my smile grows, and it must be contagious because Connor’s smile grows until we’re both beaming at each other. “Connor that’s amazing,” I huff happily, my eyes and cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so broadly.

He’s still smiling, but he nods vigorously and lets loose a breathy giggle. “I know,” he sighs and looks at me expectantly. “Can I go back to what I was doing now?” And he sounds like I had stolen his favorite teddy bear.

I want to say yes, to just lean into him and press him back into the mattress and forget all about this ugliness; but, I can’t, and I can’t help but sigh and look down at the hands that I’m gripping. “Connor,” my voice is heavy with exasperation. I feel my forehead starting to pinch as my brow furrows. “I really liked where things were headed,” I take a breath before I look back into those eyes. “But maybe we should just take things slow for now. I just want to make sure we don’t do this for the wrong reasons,” I say quickly when I see his eyes widen with hurt. “Besides, your mom is probably out there waiting to hear what the doctor said…”

Connor’s hurt turns into fear, then his entire face goes red and I can see that it’s not due to desire. He groans, his head falling onto my chest. “Yeah,” I say softly as I let go of his hands and bring mine to his back. I rub gentle circles into his shoulder blades. “I don’t think you want our first time to be something your mom hears.” He makes another muffled sound, this time a cry of embarrassment.

I lean in close to his ear, already softly chuckling under my breath. “Besides, I’ve been told I’m loud and we wouldn’t want to scar her.” Connor’s muffled laughter is enough to tell me that I’ve done something right, so I just continue to rub his back until he finally resurfaces from my chest with a heavy sigh. I smile before saying “Man, you really do love this shirt don’t you?” And the smile I get, saying that it was worth it wouldn’t even cover it; it’s a shy smile, his cheeks still pink, and his eyes falling to where his hands are playing with the hem at the bottom of my shirt.

“I guess I should go tell mom,” he says eventually. I give him a peck on his pink lips before I stand up; I lend him my hand so he can use it as leverage to get off the bed, something that is still surprising to find Connor struggling with. I let him go out first, then realize that I need to use the little boy’s room; Connor points back into his room, to his adjoining bathroom with a smile. I head back into his room, suddenly taking in the little things that make the room his-the desk with the pile of art supplies is a bit of a mystery, but the pile of messy clothes on the floor is typical Connor (organized chaos I used to call it). What was different, and frightening if I was honest, was the waste basket next to his bed; and the old blood soaked gauze and bandage packaging that filled it nearly to the top. Connor was still healing, was still bleeding; why was he acting as if this was just some pulled muscle or something. He could have died, and I would have never known; and yet just twenty minutes ago he was going to tear my clothes off. What was going on in his head?

Chapter Text

I feel Jude’s absence as I enter the living room to find mom still standing there, stone still and eyes wide; she’s my mom though, and she’s not like Jude, she can’t not ask the question because she needs to know that I’m okay. “What did they say?”

For a moment everything stands just as still as she is, and even though i want Jude to be here next to me I can feel that this is something that I need to do on my own; I give her a tired, but relived smile and before I can even say anything she’s rushing forward and wrapping me up in a tight hug. “I’m okay,” I say in a broken voice. “They said everything came back negative, nothing to worry about.” And by the time I manage to get the words out we’re both crying; somehow crying turns to laughing and all my breath gets knocked out of me.

“Everything alright now?” Jude’s warm voice breaks the hold mom has on me; she lets go of my shoulders and kisses the top of my head before she smiles and her hands fall away from me.

We both turn to where Jude is standing at the entrance to the living room, a soft smile on his face. “Perfect,” mom sighs. Jude is smiling, but something isn’t quite the same; its like his eyes aren’t smiling, so its not quite as bright as it was just a few minutes ago. He notices me staring at him, that I’ve grown quiet, and he smiles a little broader. “Your dad should be home any minute,” mom chirps reminding me that we’re not alone right now. “He’ll want to know; he’s going to be so relieved.”

I nod mutely and give her a smile, but I’m distracted by Jude; he, however, seems to be stepping back into himself. “Is there anything I can do to help out?” He asks my mom, ever the polite boy I had known when we were thirteen.

Mom smiles, pats my shoulder, and shakes her head. “No sweetie,” she chuckles as she moves away from me to give him a shoulder squeeze. “You’re our guest;” she turns back to me, her eyes still shining with happy relief. “You two should just relax,” she let go of Jude’s shoulders and walked back towards the kitchen. “I’m going to start dinner.” She called over her shoulders as she continued into the other room.

It’s quiet for a moment, even as Jude’s smile is plastered on his face I can tell that it’s just not as heartfelt as it was when the doctor had first called. “You okay?” I step closer to him, but his hands stay at his sides; I was getting used to him touching me, it was something that I wanted more and more, so it was disappointing when he didn’t reach out for me now that mom wasn’t here.

Jude’s eyes avoid mine, his finders are nearly knotted in the belt loops of his jeans, and the sigh he emits is heavy; when he turns his eyes back to me, the joy there is dulled by something else. “Connor,” he says slowly as he comes closer to me and lets one of his hands find mine. “I think we should talk.” My heart stutters, the cliche hitting me hard in the chest. It wasn’t as if Jude could break u with me, we weren’t officially together…yet, but I wanted that; maybe he had realized that he couldn’t handle that though.

I just stand there, his hand holding mine firmly, unable to process. “What about?” I ask unnerved.

Jude’s eyes aren’t exactly hard, but the softness from before-when I was kissing him-isn’t there anymore. “Let’s go back to your room,” he reaches out to take my hand; I let him, but I’m afraid that it might just reflect the same distance I’m feeling building between us. Instead, his fingers twine around mine gently, the warmth just as familiar. He leads us back into my room; but when he closes the door only slightly and takes a seat on the edge of my beaded he realizes that I haven’t moved, its like his daze lifts.

“Connor,” his voice is full of concern. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

I fidget, shift my weight from one foot to the other, and I sigh dramatically. “Then why do we need to talk Jude? You just got here, I couldn’t have done something already.” I look down at my feet; I’d rather stare at the worn out toe of my sock than see that look on Jude’s face that is making me grow increasingly confused.

I hear my bed squeak but I don’t look up; his hands land softly on my shoulders and I can feel the warmth rolling off of him, but even as those gentle fingers gently press into my tense muscles I don’t look up. “Connor,” even in my confused and anxious state, I know that Jude would never hurt me; I try to breathe in steady breaths. “I want to hear about your surgery.”

I never thought I would cringe away from Jude; he was supposed to be the prize, the thing that I fought through obstacles in order to finally deserve. Why would he want to hear about the worst part of my life; it hadn’t started out like this, but the more time went by and I continued to struggle with the simplest things the worse my attitude about my surgery was becoming. I jerked out of Jude’s gentle grip, stepped back and gave him my best befuddled look. He opens his mouth, but I hold up my open hand to stop him; I step around him slowly.

I made it to my bed, stifle a groan as I manage to get onto it, and all the while Jude is standing in the center of my room where I left him just watching me as I move around. The room is too quiet, and I know it; I hate that this feeling is here, inside me, and now its leeching into Jude. I just sit on the bed, not really focusing on anything as my mind whirls; my mind snaps out of it when I see Jude move in my peripheral vision. He stops moving when my eyes snap onto him and our eyes meet.

I take a deep breathe before I speak, my arms wrapping around my stomach as if that could make me feel any better. “Jude,” I huff exasperatedly. “What do you want from me?”

Jude gives me an equally perplexed look and shakes his head as he comes a little closer to the side of my bed. “Connor this might be the biggest thing to happen to you, like forever…” He looks into my eyes and I can see the honesty he’s laying bare in front of me. “It brought us back into each others’ lives, it took you out of school, and it brought your family back together in a lot of ways. And you’re obviously still recovering from it; I’ve seen you, it’s hard for you to move around. I just thought it might be important to talk about it.”

I close my eyes, the words he’s saying are always in my head; why would he want to talk about this, its just drama and pain that should be left in the past. And yet, here are these thoughts, coming out of the mouth of the boy I’m crazy about; why couldn’t they just go away… I didn’t want to deal with this. Why was he pushing this? It’s my body, it should be my business. Besides, there were other things we could be doing, like kissing or cuddling; but no, he wanted to talk about my surgery.

“So what do you want?” I hiss through gritted teeth, my jaw muscles tight with pent up emotions. When Jude’s eyes just widen and he takes a small step back, like the words I’m saying sting more than his own, I can't help but feel defensive; Jude wanted to talk, now he had to deal with it. “Do want to hear about how I can’t remember anything after they wheeled me into pre-op? How it seems like a dream, them cutting into me? And how I had panic attacks in the hospital because I thought I was going to die?” As I continue, my voice rises and my eyes begin to sting with tears.

“Oh I know,” I cry sarcastically; I stand up, wincing at the speed and roughness of my movement. “You want to see how my body is ruined.” And with tears streaming down my cheeks, my voice breaking and my volume petering out, one hand rips my shirt up and the other pushes down the waistband of my sweatpants. Jude’s eyes don’t leave mine, through the screaming and the crying and the wincing as the fabric of my pants catches slightly on the sticky bandage tape.

“Connor,” his voice is just heartbreaking… the pity, the sorrow, the realization that I’m messed up…

“Go ahead,” I whimper, more tears choking my throat. I stare into those brown eyes-the eyes that I missed so much and now I just want to make them go away. “Go ahead and look Jude,” I feel my knees buckle; Jude’s eyes are still locked on mine, I can tell even as my vision goes blurry with tears, even as he takes a jerky step back towards me. “This is what you wanted, right?” I want to scream at him, but it’s all coming out in squeaky sobs now. “There’s nothing else you could think of,” I whine deep in my throat, the tears darkening my voice. I finally break eye contact with him; I look up, as if there really might be some alright being who could take this away from me if I only I asked. And I don’t know who I’m sobbing at as I feel my legs go out from under me and I feel myself sliding down to the floor. “I can’t even…can’t… just can’t…” I cry, suddenly realizing that I haven’t hit the ground; Jude’s pulled me into his arms as we both collapsed onto the carpet of my bedroom floor.

I try to find him face, but it’s swimming in a sea of tears. “Why…” I whimper and I start to shake with the sobs that are rolling through my body. “Why do you…did you…I don’t want to…Jude,” I heave a huge breath through my mouth because the nose is dripping snot everywhere (lovely). “Please.”

“What don’t you want to,” Jude pants, his panic evident as he clutches at me. “Tel me Connor. Tell me and we never have to talk about it again. I’m so sorry that I did this,” he’s on the verge of tears as my body goes limp, my arms still kind of twisted at funny angles and my hands still clutching fabric. He maneuvers my limps a bit, pushes the fabric back into place somewhat (I can feel his hands trembling in fear of hurting me), and pulls me further into his lap as I saw into his his chest.

I cry, very ugly and gasping sobs, half my face smashed into the front of Jude’s chest; I don’t manage to get myself under control, the dam has been broken and there’s no fixing it now. Instead, when I manage to gasp in a couple of lungfuls of air I sob out random chunks of things floating around my head. “Don’t make me look…” I sound pathetic, the words long and drawn out like a child who’s faking their unhappiness. “It’s not mine…” And suddenly I have the hiccups, lack of oxygen tends to have the affect. “So ugly…” I feel Jude’s body curl on top of mine, like he’s trying to shield me from shrapnel. “Doesn’t feel like me…” I take a few more gulps of air. “I’m so scared…”

And when my voice breaks into a million pieces, Jude’s still there; I’m just sobbing and making nonsense noises occasionally into his shirt, and he stays there. He’s got me half on his lap, his legs tucked under him, and we stay like that-no one comes in, no one says anything, its like the world stops-because maybe for me… It has.

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As I held Connor’s sob-shuddering form, my own tears slid silently down my face; I couldn’t stand that I had done this to him, so as we both fell apart I folded myself over his trembling form in order to try to comfort him in some way. I could hear soft words tumbling from his mouth, his breath moist as it pressed into my shirt, but Connor’s not making any sense. I hold him as we cry, his sobs echoing in the hallow of my chest even as my own tears trickle and dribble down my chin.

I don’t know how long we stayed that way; Connor’s cries became softer, more whimpers, and his tears dried even though I could tell that he had it in him he would continue, and I felt myself go numb-first in the way I expected, where my legs tingled and then went to sleep, and then in a way that made me feel like maybe I was broken. “Connor,” I whisper as I hold him; he isn’t shaking as hard, and his breathing is starting too even out-there’s still a gasping thing that happens every so often. When I say his name I feel him hold his breath. “It’s okay,” I sooth. “We won’t talk if you don’t want to; I just wanted to see if you wanted some water.”

The words sounded pathetic and I wanted to groan at my own incompetence. But I can’t help my heart lifting as I feel Connor nod his head slowly, his face still gently squished into my chest. “Okay,” I breathe, running a hand soothingly over his tight shoulders and down his back. “Let me help you up.”

I use all my strength, and possibly some I conjured up from thin air, and I push myself up onto my legs while I hold onto Connor; my head spins, the blood rushes to my tingling legs, and I wobble for a moment before I can take a step towards the bed. Connor’s more lucid now, if lethargic, but he takes my cues-a hand on his shoulder, a nudge, a soothing hush as he slowly move onto the bed. I take slow, deep breaths, mostly to compensate for the dizziness as well as to help with my numb and tingling legs, but I notice Connor imitating my breathing pattern; it seems to be helping him calm down, even if I do see him wincing as I help him settle further onto the bed. “Connor,” I can’t help the tentative tone; I don’t want Connor to be upset, but I also know that I need to take care of him-right now. “I-I know you don’t want to…” his eyes find mine, but they’re glassy even as a strangled noise escapes his chest; I have to be gentle. “I didn’t look before,” I whimper as I lean into him, my forehead pressing against his. “I knew you didn’t mean it…” my breath rattles out of me as close my eyes for a moment. “But Connor,” I open my eyes; I see Connor’s are closed. All I want to do is make him feel safe, and yet I know that this is going to have the completely opposite effect. “I heard something tear and I’m-I’m scared…”

Connor lets a dry sob shake him, but I move my hands to his shoulders; he takes a shaky breath and then nods his head solemnly. “Can I get your mom so she can take a look; what if your bandage is torn?” My breathing is still ragged as I watch Connor’s eyelids flutter. His eyes aren’t glassy, maybe a little distant, and when they look up at me I see genuine surprise there.

“You-You,” his eyes are bloodshot as I stare into them; I hold my breath. “You didn’t look?” His voice nearly gives out; I shake my head gently. His eyes fall away from mine, go to his lap, even as one of his hands drifts to one of mine as it rests on his shoulder. “Jude, I’m…” he sniffles strongly. “I’m scared.”

My grip on his shoulders tightens for a moment, but its enough for his eyes to flicker back up to mine. “Afraid of what?” I breathe, I’m leaning heavily on the frame of his bed and the box spring but I don’t want to crowd him so I resist the urge to climb onto the bed with him.

I see tears glistening at the corners of his eyes again. “Afraid that this will all be too much for you,” he sighs heavily as a quiet sob shakes his voice. “That you’ll see it and you’ll leave.”

His eyes are drifting back to his lap, the tears just starting to escape his eyes, and I can’t stop myself-my heart won’t let him think like this for one moment longer. My other hand, the one not on his shoulder, comes up under his chin to drag him back to me. It starts out soft, like something new and sweet, but I don’t want him to think that I’m afraid to touch him; my tongue teases at the corner of his lips and he slowly opens up like a flower opens to the sun. As I deepen the kiss he mewls into my mouth, almost in surprise or relief.

When I pull back I look at him; he’s an utter mess, with his hair an oily mess and his face puffy and swollen, but I could kiss him again and never be satisfied. “I’ll go get your mom then,” I breathe; Connor’s eyes refocus on me, but as I try to straighten up his grip on my hand tightens.

When Connor won’t let me go I give him a quizzical look. “I-I want you to do it.” He looks more resolved than he sounds. “Just,” he sighs, more whimpers. “Promise you won’t like me any less?” And his mouth twists into this terrible silent sob; I’m wrapping my arms around him making shushing sounds before he can even make another sound. But he does, eventually. “I just want the chance to love you, and I don’t-don’t-don’t want this to ruin that.”

“Ssshh,” I say and I stroke my fingers through his hair and down his neck. “You aren’t getting rid of me that quickly. Just try to relax okay?” I repeat the movements and the sounds, my hip practically on the bed now. “Are you sure you want me to look? I don’t know what to do with stitches and bandages.”

Connor lets out a soft, humorless laugh. “They’re staples,” he says flatly. “I can talk you through it… If you want?”

Chapter Text

I don’t know if its because I’m in shock or because Jude’s kiss feels like a promise; I look up and his eyes are wide with something, not quite fear, but maybe hesitation. “Never mind,” I say softly, swallowing down the dry lump in my throat. His mouth opens, and he lets it gape when I continue quickly in the same soft voice. “It’s okay, really; I don’t want you to get grossed out. It’s okay, you can get mom and she’ll take care of…”

Jude stops gaping and instead steals what little breath I have regained with a soft kiss; my hands come up to cup his cheeks as he gently presses kisses to my mouth, and I wonder how something so sweet and soft could make my pulse race so fast. My eyes are hard to open as he pulls away from me, but I do; it’s my turn to gape a little at him. “I was just surprised,” he breathes, the warmth of his breath washing over my face. “I don’t want you to do this just because you think I’m pushing…”

I huff a laugh. “How did this end up sounding so much like a conversation about sex?” I try to smile as I chuckle dryly, but Jude’s eyes don’t even twinkle. I clear my throat a bit. “Jude,” and my voice may sound strong, but I sure don’t feel like it. “I guess I should be honest; I haven’t even been able to look at it myself,” and there’s the sound of tears scratching at the back of my throat again. I try to sniffle and cough to get myself back to sounding strong, but I keep going even when it doesn’t work. “I’m scared Jude; it doesn’t feel like me…”

Jude turns a bit and slides his hip onto the bed so that we’re facing each other and he can hold my hands since it seems my eyes keep falling back to them. “What do you mean Connor?” His voice is so gentle, it makes this the easiest choice… Telling him, talking to him, especially since he’s here now.

“Ever since the surgery,” I sniffle a little, fighting back the memories. “All I feel in my stomach is pain or numbness; it’s hard to explain…” I sigh exasperatedly.

Jude’s hands squeeze mine gently, bringing my eyes back up to him. “Just try,” the corner of his mouth quirks for a moment. “And I’ll try to understand.”

So I take a shaky breath and try to come up with some words, maybe a sentence, that might convey the sense of alienation I’m having. “It’s like I used to know my body so well-okay, maybe well enough; I knew when I was getting a cold, I could tell when I’d pulled a muscle or twisted something. And now, I feel like I didn’t know it at all; I feel like I missed all sorts of signals and now I don’t feel like it’s mine at all. I can’t seem to get it to do what I want, to feel how I want, and like I said - it’s like my skin from my stomach down is dead to the touch, and yet every time I move I feel the staples pulling the skin and they burn and I think “This isn’t my body anymore”.”

All my breath seems to escape me by the time I’ve finished, and even though I’m gasping raggedly Jude’s hands are still solid against my own; his thumbs stroke over my knuckles soothingly as I take slow breaths through my nose. “I may not be going through the same things as you Connor,” Jude’s voice is like a warm blanket wrapping around me. “So I guess I can’t say “I know what you’re going through” but Connor…” Both my eyelids and my heart flutter as I look at him; how could I have ever thought that Jude would recoil from me, one look at his face and I can see it there-the innocence of that thirteen year old boy who I fell in love with.

“I get why you are so upset; what you described sounds horrible, and I know it must especially hard since you’ve trained for years as an athlete, but I’m here for you now. And if you really want me to, I’ll check your bandages and staples.” He drew in a long breath, his eyes serious but brighter. “You know,” he said softly, his thumbs still softly stroking. “Part of the reason I came down here was to check on you, to help you feel better…To take care of you.”

Those words hang between us, a little heavy but also I can see that saying them has lightened something in Jude. “I-I want that too, I guess.” My voice doesn't sound sure though, and I know that Jude catches it-the hesitation. I clear my throat and try again, this time with a smile. “I mean I’m not going to say that I’m alright with any of this, but I want to be able to be close with you-I’ve fought so hard for that-and I don’t want this to be what stands in our way.”

Jude smiles and nods his head solemnly. “That sounds fair, but you have to keep talking to me Connor-I can’t read your mind and I don’t want like the idea of accidentally sticking my foot in my mouth. I don’t want to upset you any more than I already have.” I give him a sad smile before I squeeze his hand in response.

“We should get this over with,” I sigh, my eyes dropping away from Jude’s chocolate brown gaze. “Dad’ll be home soon and dinner’s almost done too.”

Jude nods his head again and quietly stands up so I can maneuver myself a bit; I shimmy further down the bed, my head settles onto the pillows as the rest of my body stretches lightly (I wince just a tad). When I’m laid out like a board, I take a deep breath and I reach for Jude; he takes a step closer to my head and slides his hand into mine. “Okay,” I say breathing heavily, our fingers tangled together tightly. “I’ll lift my shirt. Things you don’t want to see, but can fix easily: loose or torn bandages or red splotches. Things you really don’t want to see: fresh blood, stretched staples, anything that looks oozing.” I look up at Jude, our eyes meeting as I take another huge breath; he gives my hand a squeeze and I nod-this is it.

I don’t let go of Jude’s hand and I don’t look away from his face; I don’t even blink, which is why my eyes start to sting and water. I take my free hand and grab the hem of my shirt; I gently pull it up, it’s lopsided but enough, Jude will be able to see. Next, after another huge breath, I hook my thumb into the waistband of my sweatpants and very slowly drag them down to the joint of my hip.

I take another huge breath, this time closing my eyes. “Okay,” I say softly and my hand loosens around Jude’s fingers.

“Okay,” he breaths and his hand slides out of mine. For a moment all I can hear is my heavy breathing and Jude’s soft exhales through his nose; I’m braced for him to touch me, for pain to shoot through my abdomen. It doesn’t come. “Is it alright if I move…”

“Yes,” I huff. “Just try to be…”

“Gentle,” Jude finishes breathily. “Would you hate it if I said that I’d never want to treat you any other way than as gentle as I can?” Maybe he was trying to make a joke, to try to clam me down.

But I can hear there’s something softer in his voice, something true about his words; I don’t laugh. “I don’t think I could ever be mad at you Jude,” I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter as I feel his fingers ghost over my stomach-not enough to cause any pain. I feel his slender fingers slide into the waistband of my pants and he wiggles them down a few more inches so that I can feel the pressure of the elastic band settle over my mildly sensitive dick. “Not after you’re seeing me like this.”

Jude’s fingers land on my flanks, far away from my sutures. “No fresh blood,” he breathes-I can feel his warm, moist breath against my skin. “It just looks like a loose bandage, maybe a little bit of redness. I’m going to adjust the gauze and tape now,” there’s a pause-nothing happens. I hear Jude sigh. “Sorry in advance,” his voice is pinched and scared.

I emit a clipped chuckle. “Just glad I didn’t rip any of the staples.”

I feel Jude’s fingers work as lightly as possible; it isn't even his fingers that are the problem in the end, its the pull of the medical tape on my skin. I only hiss once as I draw in a harsh breath through gritted teeth. Even when he’s done readjusting the bandage, when he reattaches the tape I can’t complain-he’s so gentle. “All done I think,” he says softly. I let out a breath as my eyes flutter open.

I reach down to start readjusting my clothes, but Jude’s hands catch mine. “Let me,” he says softly and presses kisses to my palms. I giggle softly and give him a breathy “okay” before I let my hands fall to my side. Jude’s fingers make their way back to my waistband, and this time when they slip beneath the elastic band I can’t help the way my heart stammers and my breath hitches slightly. But Jude’s a gentleman, and he gently replaces my pants so that they don’t rub against the bandages too heavily. When Jude surprises me with a kiss just above my belly button, just above where the staples start, I sigh dreamily. “That’s right,” he hums against my skin. “Just relax.”

But Jude doesn’t linger; he slowly slides my shirt back down to cover my skin. He comes back to my head, a soft smile on his lips. “Well,” his voice is soft as he leans down, practically crouching. “You’ve been a very good patient; would you like a lollipop?” His eyes twinkle as I feel the goofy grin growing on my face; I’m about to start laughing, but instead Jude’s lips land on mine.

Jude’s arms slowly snake around me and under me until his hands are resting against my shoulder blades. As I continue receiving kisses, Jude lifts me until I’m sitting up on the bed. I hum contentedly, although there’s a pout on my lips, as he releases my mouth. I don’t seem to care, I simply lean forward to peck his lips a couple of more times. “That didn’t even hurt,” I say, my own arms finding their way around his neck so my fingers can find solace in his thick silky locks.

Jude opens his mouth, but at that moment there’s the sound of a door opening and closing, maybe a quick muffled conversation and then my mother’s voice calling loudly through the house. “Connor,” she sounds happy, but definitely still in the kitchen. “Your father’s home.” Jude’s mouth snaps shut, his eyes widen a bit; I can’t help but giggle softly.

“Come on,” I say jovially. “Help me up will you?”

Chapter Text

I helped Connor until he was sitting up on his bed with his legs dangling over the side; I stood there, between his thighs, looking down at the boy that I thought I knew. Connor wasn’t the boy I had known when we were thirteen, he was different, something that I kept forgetting. And yet, I could see passed the fear and embarrassment and insecurity that were hiding in his hazel eyes. He gives me a weak smile as his hands slide from where he was holding onto my elbows and settle on my hips; he’s warm, even through my t-shirt I can feel his warm fingers as if there’s nothing in between us.

“Hey,” his voice is softer than I expect it, drawing me back to the present and out of my fixation on the way his thumbs are rubbing circles into my hip bones. I feel my eyes focus back on him, his smile, his eyes, and I feel a tug at my own lips. “You’re not nervous are you?”

He’s leaning up, trying to slowly rock himself so that he’s both getting closer to me as well as slowly sliding off the edge of the bed. And it’s making it very hard to focus; I decide to just sigh heavily and shrug my shoulders. “I promise that everything is going to be fine,” he whispers as his toes finally find the floor beneath the bed and his thighs press against mine.

I stifle a groan as my eyes slowly slide shut; it’s not supposed to be more than a moment, but when Connor’s lips press gently to the corner of my mouth I turn my head just a little until our lips are ghosting against each other. “I believe you,” I breathe against his lips as his hands circle around my middle and he tries to stand up. He makes a small sound, not quite a wince or a moan but somewhere in between, and I take advantage; I deepen our kiss as my hands twine around his torso and interlock near his shoulder blades. When I’m sure he’s standing on his own two feet and that being glued together isn’t what’s keeping him vertical, I move away from his lips in order to place soft kisses along his jaw until I can press my nose into his neck just behind his ear.

He giggles softly as I take slow deep breaths, enjoying the smell of Connor as he fills my lungs. “We should get out there,” he says softly as I feel his hands stroke soothingly up and down my spine. “If we don’t there’s a good chance that he’ll just come in here.”

I pull away from him with difficulty, and I know that his smile is a result of my own pout. “Fine,” I huff dramatically. “Let’s go,” I don’t bothering offering my hand; I just let our fingers slide together easily. The soft smile Connor tries to hide by ducking his head and nodding is enough to clear my head of everything that isn’t him. We walk slowly out of his room; I know my way to the kitchen, which is where I hear the voices coming from.

I let Connor lead us into the kitchen, not wanting to step on his moment; he takes a few steps into the kitchen, standing in front of me with our linked hands behind him. “There Adam,” I hear Connor’s mom’s voice chop happily. “Are you happy now, Connor’s here.”

I hear the sound of a chair moving against the floor; I feel Connor’s gentle tug on my hand and take a step closer to him so that I can see into the kitchen. Adam’s just the same as I remember him, except now that I’m taller he seems less like a towering giant; and right now, as I’m stepping into the room behind Connor, Adam’s a little frozen. He looks like he was in the middle of standing, possibly coming over to Connor to give him a hug, his mouth has gone slack and his eyes are widening at an alarming rate…That’s when I put two and two together; Adam doesn’t recognize me the way I recognize him, because I’m not the same gangly kid that used to follow his son around like a puppy.

“Hi Mister Stevens,” I say softly; we’re both frozen, but at least my mouth is closed in a soft smile. However, I don’t stay where I’m standing for very long; Connor yanks my hand until I stumble into his back, my arms wrap around him with a soft chuckle from both of us. Connor’s eyes are shining, even as they never leave his father’s face.

“Dad,” Connor’s voice is filled with a bright smile. “You remember Jude, don’t you?”

Adam’s mouth widens even more, forming a perfect circle; it’s accompanied by a lengthy “oh” sound. “My god,” Adam’s voice is almost hollow as he reaches up to run a hand over his face; he looks like he’s just gotten home from work. “Jude?” I nod, suddenly shy, and bury my nose behind Connor’s ear-I would be embarrassed, but Connor’s the only thing that’s keeping me from running away.

“He came to visit for the weekend,” Connor chirps, his hands coming to rest on top of mine as they rest above his belly button. “Isn’t that nice of him?” The question hangs there tentatively; Connor’s not sure how his father will react, even if things have gotten better since his surgery…

It seems like a long minute, but then all of the sudden Adam’s face cracks into a huge smile and he’s stepping over to us; we barely have time to readjust our position before Adam’s wrapping his arms around our shoulders. “You look so different,” he growled as he hugged us roughly; all three of us started to laugh. But Adam knew better than to squeeze too hard or for too long, and soon enough we all broke apart. Connor was all smiles as he watched Adam take me by the shoulders and look me up and down; Connor could see that I was in good hands, so he went to stand with his mom and they giggled together as Adam continues to laugh with me.

“You’re taller now,” Adam remarks as he spins me to and fro. “Put on a little muscle now, haven’t you? You work out?” We both laughed at that. “And look at you,” he ruffled my already messy hair. “So handsome.”

My ribs were starting to ache with laughter and I didn’t have enough air in my lungs in order to speak. But Connor did. “Hey,” his voice drew both my eyes and Adam’s. “Hands off dad, he’s my…” and his cheeks turned rosy as his voice died out.

I took a deep breath as Adam finally released me with a quiet chuckle; he turned toward where Connor and his mother were standing. “Yeah,” I huff through the remaining laughter. “I’m a one boy kind of man Adam.” I watch Connor’s face as I say every word with purpose. Adam and Connor’s mom both laugh at that, but Connor and I smile quietly at each other; his cheeks go from rosy to tomato and his eyes turn down and I can see his mind going into overdrive from where I’m standing.

“Did you know about this?” My attention returns to Adam who’s moving toward his ex-wife with a grin on his face.

Connor’s mom smiled and huffed a laugh sarcastically. “Yes Adam,” she teased. “I’ve been keeping this whole thing under wraps…” she sighed dramatically. “Honestly,” she swatted at Adam’s arm as he came closer. “I had no idea until I saw him standing out by the curb. And by the way, I didn’t recognize him either.”

As his parents have their moment of teasing and joking, Connor makes his way back to where I’m standing; he’s still timidly avoiding my eyes, but my arms open instinctually as he gets closer. When his head is tucked under my chin securely, I take a deep breath and run my hands up and down his back. He feels right, he fits right in my arms I think as I hold him; I can feel him breathing just as deeply, his nose pressed into my chest.

There’s a quiet “aw” from the other side of the room and both Connor and I turn our heads to see his parents staring at us, their expressions sappy-even Adam’s, which is most surprising. Connor’s mom elbows Adam in the ribs and whispers “aren’t they just so sweet together” even though we can see and hear her.

Connor snuffles, trying to hide an embarrassed groan, before he turns back to me; his eyes are almost green in the soft sunset light. “Mom, isn’t dinner ready yet?” He doesn’t bother looking at her, and I feel like even if he is talking to his mom we’re having our own little moment.

She seems to get the hint though, because a few minutes go by and then the oven door squeaks open. “Yep,” she says happily. “Adam why don’t you take the silverware to the table; Jude and Connor you can just settle down and I’ll bring dinner to the table.”

I walk with Connor, my arm around his waist, to the dinner table; I take the seat next to him, Adam sets out the silver and pours glasses of ice water all around before he sits down in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table. Thankfully I spared from a one-on-one interrogation from Adam, even though I know that it’s inevitably going to happen at some point; Connor’s mom comes over and sets down dinner in the center of the table and sits down next to Adam.

Dinner is pleasant, and delicious; the conversation rotates around around me, just as I knew it would, but it’s easy questions-light and fluffy. We eat and we talk, Connor only asks a few questions but sits back and lets his parents talk my ears off. I think he knew that in the end, he would have his own time with me to talk about things; right now, he was thinking about everything that had happened in the past few hours.

“Thanks for dinner Ms. Stevens,” I say as I finish my second plate with a smile, even though I want another helping I decide to let everything settle for a while-I could always sneak a midnight snack with Connor.

“Please,” she says as she smiles around her glass of water. “Call me Karen.”

I smile again, this time with a little heat in my cheeks. “You have no idea what a treat it is to have something home cooked for once,” at that she and I both chuckle. “It’s hard to eat decently when you’re a a college student.” I add lightly with a final laugh.

“Well then,” she says as she takes Adam’s plate absently and puts it on top of her empty plate. “This weekend I’ll make some of Connor’s favorites to fatten you up.” I pick up on what she’s doing and stand up, my plate in one hand and reaching for Connor’s with the other. “Jude, you don’t…”

I shake my head. “Of course I do,” I say happily. “I show up unannounced and you’re kind enough to let me stay the weekend; the least I can do is help out clearing the dishes.” Karen smiles appreciatively. I follow her back into the kitchen and stand by her side while she loads the dishwasher; its quiet for a time, and my mind wanders to what Connor and Adam might be talking about now that they have a moment alone.

“You know,” her soft voice brings me back to this room as she takes one of the plates I’m still holding. “I think it means the world to Connor that you came all this way to visit him.” I feel my spine stiffen, preparing for the next part of that sentence. “But can I just ask you why you decided to come?”

I hand her the other plate, my eyes drawn to the sturdy yet delicate ceramic surface. “I just couldn’t stay away any longer; ever since I heard Connor was looking for me, my life hasn’t felt right-I needed to come… To know for certain…”

I look up. Karen’s eyes are trained on my face, waiting expectantly. I smile softly, my heart pounding. “I think I still love him.”

Chapter Text

“So?” My dad’s expression is nothing short of exuberant and expectant, his eyes are wide and glittering with excitement as he looks at me with a huge smile on his face.

I can’t help the coy tone in my voice as I say “So what?” just like I can’t help the giggle that escapes my mouth after he reaches over to swat my arm across the table. He laughs at my shy smile and the blush that works its way over my cheeks.

“You know so what!” Dad whispers with a glance at the doorway that Jude and mom had gone through. “He came all this way just to see you.”

I grin even more, my eyes flitting away from my father’s intense gaze. “I know,” and I’m embarrassed at how dreamy my voice comes off. “I can’t believe he would do this, its just so…”

“Romantic?” I can’t help but giggle at how my father’s tone is just as dreamy as mine was a moment ago. “You know I think…”

“Dad,” I hiss at him; he shuts up, but his grin is still plastered on his face. “Just let me digest this for myself, please.” I watch him closely as he slowly nods, his smile still firmly in place.

“Just don’t overthink this too much, okay Connor?” He’s so serious, his eyes nearly bore through me; I sat up a little straighter. “You do deserve to enjoy your life a little son.”

Before I could ask him what he meant by that Jude and mom were coming back through the door; they booth had grins of their own on their faces, but they were both quiet as they came back into the room. “Alright boys,” mom said, her voice bubbly and vivacious. “Who’s ready for a movie or two?”

We all murmur our consent, though mine dies out as Jude makes his way over to me; he leaned on the back of my chair, kissed my cheek, and ran his arms around my head and shoulders. I could hear mom and dad chuckling at us, but I didn’t care; Jude helped me up from the table and we walked together into the living room. Mom and dad were still giggling as we all settled into spots around the television; I managed to shoot dad a sharp glare that shuts him up as Jude innocently smiled obliviously as I settled into his side on the couch that we were sharing; he didn’t seem to mind me snuggling into him, his arm curling warmly around my shoulders.

“What do we feel like watching?” Mom is busy with her back to all of us, her head in the DVD cabinet that’s housed in the adjoining glass-doored cabinet in the entertainment unit. I shrug into Jude’s side, smiling as I hide my nose in his soft t-shirt.

“Something fun,” dad pipes happily.

“Jude?” Mom asks over her shoulder.

“Anything, I haven’t had time to see any movies in the past year so I’m just glad to be able to see something that isn't a documentary for school.” He sinks further into the couch cushions, his legs stretching out a bit more and I realize that we’re slowly headed into a very comfortable recline-together-and he’s not just becoming my pillow but I’m becoming his blanket. And I like it.

Mom pops in a disc, dims all the lights, and finds a spot on an empty couch across from dad. The movie starts, it’s something funny but relaxed so its easy to zone out and forget what it’s about. Half way through dad starts making soft snuffling sounds, but I’m too comfortable in Jude’s arms to look at him. A few minutes later mom giggles softly and says “I think its time for the two of us to head to bed,” and gets up from her spot. She wakes dad with a shake of his shoulder, which is amusing even though I can’t see it in the dim light because I can hear the startled noise he makes. I can hear her whisper in his ear, but I can’t make out what she says.

They both mumble sleepy “good night”s and lean over the back of the couch as they pass behind it to press kisses to my head. Both Jude and I say “good night” without much movement on our part; I listen until I can’t hear footsteps any more and then I relax a little more into Jude’s side.

I don’t register that we’ve shifted into an easy spooning situation until I feel myself start to drift in and out of consciousness, my head pillowed on Jude’s bicep as his breath warms the back of my neck. “Connor,” he whispers; I hum in response, my head jerking up in surprise at my sleepy deliriousness. He giggles at me. “Baby we should get you to bed, those painkillers are pretty powerful.”

In my sleep and drug-addled mind I find his words, so soft in my ear, too adorable not to giggle at. “You called me baby,” I huff sleepily, my head falling back onto his bicep. I chuckle to myself.

“That’s right,” Jude says jokingly. “Because you’re kind of acting like one.” He starts to shift slightly, so I grumble and turn my face to press it even more firmly into his arm. He laughs at me softly. “Connor, c’mon sweetie, you know your bed is ten times as comfortable as this couch.”

“Not true,” I grouch as he wiggles out from behind me, the couch still deliciously warm from where his body had been just a moment before. “You are ten times more comfy that any bed or couch like ever.”

I hear him chuckling at me, even though at some point my eyes closed and never reopened in the last few minutes. I groan and roll face first into the spot where he had been laying, my nose and face and mouth smooshed into the couch cushions that my next retort is just a grumble of odd sounds. “What was that?” He asks through a fit of soft giggles.

I turn my head slightly to the side, not really sure which side since my eyes are still closed-and that disgusting crust is starting to form on my eyelashes. “I must already be dreaming, you’ve called me baby and sweetie…” I sigh sleepily. “I don’t want to wake up just to move to my bed when I’ve got you here and you’re so sweet and you don’t hate me…”

“I think I stopped hating you the moment I heard your voice on my cell phone Connor,” Jude’s voice is half exasperated and half amused. I just turn my face back into the couch cushion and chuckle softly; that slowly turns into a soft moan as Jude’s hands fall onto my shoulders. They’re warm and solid as they press into my tense muscles; they make my skin tingle as they move slowly down my back. “God Connor,” he breaths heavily, leaning over so his breath tickles the back of my neck. “I can feel all the knots in your shoulders-and I don’t know anything about massage.”

I turn my head to the side again and sigh as his hands trace my spine down passed my ribs to swirl the muscles there. “See, proves its a dream.”

“Why is that baby?” His voice is so gentle in my ear.

His fingers dig into a particularly tight muscle and I let out a strangled moan. “You know things,” another soft moan escapes my lips. “It all just seems like a dream… Nothing seems real, its all too good.”

The next thing I’m aware of is those strong hands slipping around my waist and turning me until I’m mumbling in complaint at being flipped onto my back when I was so comfortable on my face. My eyes are too gummy to even flutter open at this point, but I feel my mouth form a smile all the same. “Then if you’re already dreaming I should get you to bed mister,” and I giggle as he heaves me into an upright position.

Jude manages to get me on my feet, my eyes open enough for me to watch my feet move even if my vision is blurred, and he walks me-okay, maybe he’s mostly carrying me- down the hall to my room in the darkness. His touch is so gentle that it just makes me think that I’m dreaming-sleep walking maybe. I’m sure that when I wake up this entire day will be just some wonderful dream; he’ll be gone, never have been here, and I’ll still miss him because of that. I can’t help the mournful sigh that huffs out of me as Jude gently helps me onto my bed.

“What’s wrong Connor, did I strain your staples?” His concern only makes me want him more.

I shake my head, which probably looks hilarious since I can barely keep it held up as I’m wiggling further onto the bed. “I just don’t want to wake up,” I say plainly. I sound so childish, like I might as well be holding a teddy bear and pouting. “Cause then I’ll be right back where I was.”

My pillows are just too inviting; I lean back into them, my eyes rolling a bit into my head as I start to drift in and out; I can still see Jude’s form silhouetted in the dim light and his hands are still on me-I’m going to miss their warmth. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you some how that this isn’t just a dream” he murmurs as he pulls my blanket over my hips. I grumble, but he continues. “I’ll be here when you wake up Connor, I promise. Now get some sleep.”

I’m about to say “good night” when his lips steal the words from mine; my hand comes up to touch his cheek as I feel him smile against my mouth. I’m already asleep when the kiss ends, mostly because I was already half asleep when he did it. I feel my head touch my pillow and the rest is a swirl of sensations as I loose the battle with sleep.

Chapter Text

I don’t bother leaving Connor’s room for more than a few minutes; I’m back before he’s even shifted in his sleep, if even what with those staples in his stomach. I make my way quietly out of his room, up the stairs and into the guest room that Karen put my luggage in and left the door open for me to find; I turn on a bed side lamp just so that I don’t trip over something and wake the whole house up, then I grab a pair of well-worn pajamas out of my bag and change in record time. I make sure to turn off the light before I grab the throw blanket that’s laying at the end of my bed and walk back down to Connor’s room.

When I get back Connor’s still breathing softly in an uninterrupted slumber and I mentally kick myself as I realize that I may not have thought this through entirely. Connor’s room doesn’t exactly have anywhere to sleep except for the floor or the desk chair, so either way I know I’m going to be sore in the morning. I pull out my phone and set an alarm for early in the morning and stick it back in the pocket of my pajama pants before I curl up on the floor next to Connor’s bed.

I don’t feel like I’ve been asleep that long when my phone starts to vibrate in the morning, but as I slowly sit up on the floor and my muscles whine and my joints popped. I shut off my phone alarm, stand up slowly, and stretch silently before I wrap myself up in the blanket and then take a seat in the desk chair. It isn’t long until I hear movement from above me somewhere; mothers are always early risers, I remember Mama telling me once that it was because women were always thinking about what they needed to do next for their children. Connor was still sleeping soundly when I turned in the chair at the sound of his door opening; Karen was standing there in her pajamas and a fuzzy bathrobe, her hair in a ponytail.

Her face is shocked to see me, but I think there’s also the dawning of the realization that I probably slept all night in this chair; she relaxes with a soft sigh. “It’s early,” she whispers as she leans against the door frame. “Have you been watching over him all this time?”

I shake my head. “I slept for a while before,” I whisper, a soft smile curling my lips. “But he was so scared last night…” When she gives me a quizzical look I blush as I continue. “He was mostly asleep, but he just kept saying that I was just a dream that he would wake up and none of it would have happened.” Karen makes a soft “mhm” but otherwise is quiet. I glance back over at my sleeping boy and I whisper “I promised to be here when he woke up.”

I look back at Karen and the smile she gives me makes me blush a little deeper. “Carry on then by all means,” she whispers. “Just don’t let him sleep too late.” And then she quietly closes the door again.

I go back to staring at Connor as the sunlight starts to filter in through the blinds behind his bed. His hair looks like it’s been struck by a match the way the light turns his sandy locks into a golden halo. I check my phone a little while later to see that it’s still early, but I know that if Connor doesn’t start to wake up on his own that I’ll have to think of a gentle way to coax those amazing hazel eyes to open. Thankfully a few minutes is all it takes for Connor to make a muffled sound and attempt to stretch in his sleep.

I smile and stand up as Connor’s pretty sleepy face pinches into a soft wince; he rolls gently onto his back as I come to the side of his bed, his eyes still closed and crusted with sleep. I place a hand on his shoulder, my thumb slowly rubbing circles into the soft fabric of his shirt. Connor mumbles something softly, something that almost sounds like “five more minutes” or “I don’t want to” and I smile at the sentiment because I can’t help but think that if I got to wake up to Connor I think I might actually enjoy waking up for once in my life.

“Time to wake up sunshine,” I whisper as he makes another soft sound and leans his head toward my hand that’s still stroking his shoulder. I can’t resist, he just looks so perfect and peaceful. I lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead, and when I get a soft warm sound in reply I move down and press butterfly soft kisses to each of his eyelids.

“Jude?” His voice is a little scratchy and his eyes are slits as I pull back a bit to look at him, but I can see the realization setting in.

“Told you I wasn’t a dream,” I murmur and swoop in to suck his bottom lip slowly and with just my own lips. When Connor responds to my lips with gentle movements of his own I press the flat of my tongue against the curve of his bottom lip; he moans a little as his lips part under mine. I swirl my tongue into his mouth, not going too deep; I take a little giddy joy at licking Connor’s lower teeth. I feel Connor’s hand slowly slide into my hair, the back of my neck tingling.

When I pull away gently Connor’s hand remains in my hair and his golden eyes fluttered open to stare up at me, his lips still parted in a sexy silent gasp. “Well good morning to you too handsome.” He sounded dazed, but his eyes are clear and his mouth quirks into a shy grin. I lean down to kiss him quickly before I fully straighten up, taking Connor with me slightly as I support his shoulders.

“Thankfully,” I sigh as I stare down into his eyes, those softly shining eyes. “Your mother finds me just as endearing as you do, because when she poked her head in here to check on you and saw me she seemed to take it well.”

Connor giggles softly as he slowly peels his arms away from me so he can sit up better and wince slightly. “Yeah,” he says softly and he swings his legs over the side of the bed; I jump back a step with a laugh as I avoid getting kicked. “I think she really likes the idea of us getting together; at least you don’t scare easy.” He chuckles groggily, scrubbing a hand over his face with a yawn.

I can’t help but smile at him, all adorable and dopey with his hair all mussed. “Not getting rid of me that easily,” I hold Connor’s hands as he slides off his bed and only chuckle in surprise softly as his hands slip from mine to wrap around my waist.

“Good,” he whispers as he snuggles his nose into the center of my chest; I hear the sound as he inhales deeply. After a minute of just holding him, my arms softly going around Connor’s shoulders as we hold each other, he turns his head to the side and sighed sweetly. “So you spent the whole night here?” I nod my silently. “You know you could have joined me-I’m sure the bed’s more comfortable than the chair or the floor.”

“Didn’t want to squish you,” I say softly as I rest my head on top of his. Connor makes a “hmmph” sound and I know that means he doesn’t believe me, so I smile and press a kiss into his hair. “You were half drunk last night Connor, you thought I was a figment of your imagination; I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or taken advantage of…” Connor is silent for a moment too long, so I quickly continue. “Besides, I like watching you sleep and the view was really good.”

“You’re such a dork,” he giggles, his hands grips softly into the back of my pajama shirt. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.” His breath is warm against my skin even through my shirt.

My arms instinctively tighten a bit around him as I hum contentedly. “C’mon you,” I say happily-hoping that the smile that’s plastered on my face isn’t as obvious as it sounds to me. “Smells like your mom’s already making something delicious. You hungry?” I lean back far enough to look into his eyes.

Connor’s eyes are nearly green in the bright morning light that’s filling the room. He smiles softly and nods his head, but he doesn’t say anything so I gently maneuver him so that my hand rests on his hip so that we can walk together. Connor rests his head on my shoulder as we walk out of his bedroom and down the hall towards the kitchen. Before we get to the kitchen Connor pulls up short, so I turn to look at him with a quirked eyebrow.

He grins mischievously at me before he speaks softly. “So now that I’ve come to my senses and realized that you really are here, what do you say about spending the day with me? I know you only have a couple of days, and I know we’ll probably need to have an actual discussion at some point, but I’d kind of like to show you what my life is like now…” He takes a deep breath, his eyes down cast for a moment and his tone turning serious for a moment. “Now that I’m putting a life together where I’m honest about who I am and what I want…” He looks back up at me, “And I want you-in my life, in my world, and for this weekend at least that’s actually happening.”

I smile at him, my hand squeezing his hip reassuringly. “I want that to Connor,” I pull him closer to me so that I our sides are pressed together. “And I look forward to seeing the life you have here, now can we get some breakfast before you give me the official tour?” He giggles and nods before I pull him into the kitchen where Karen is flipping over french toast; she beams at us as we walk into the room.

“Good morning boys,” she chirps and just like that, I feel myself just melt into Connor’s world.

Chapter Text

I knew that Jude was real, mostly because I could feel him underneath my fingers as I sat at the kitchen island next to him with my hand on his knee; I could eat my french toast with one hand, and I liked the way I could draw circles on his leg through his pants while I watched him smile and chew his own french toast. Mom and Dad were enjoying their breakfast and discussing their plans for the day; Mom wanted to run some errands so she wanted to make sure that Dad was able to stick around for me. I sighed and turned to where they were sitting at the small table across the room; I rolled my eyes as I heard Dad saying that he needed to go into the annex office in L.A. for a few hours to arrange for his next two weeks.

“I’ll be okay if you guys both need to go out for a while,” I say through a mouth full french toast. “I’ve got a new babysitter and you guys deserve a break.”

At that Jude’s eyes widened and he turned his attention away from me and towards my parents; they were looking at him questioningly, but Jude appeared worried. “Are you sure about that Connor? I mean, Jude just got here…” My mom looked from Jude to me, her voice full of concern.

Before I can swallow my mouthful Jude is already smiling. “I think I can handle him for the day.” And I blush as he looks at me with soft eyes; I have to cover it up with my glass of orange juice. He looked back at my Mom, his smile never faltering. “You guys can go out if you want; Connor wants to show me around the house and what he’s been up to lately. And I’m sure he can walk me through any sort of medical stuff if it comes up. Right?” His eyes flicker towards me.

“Yeah,” I say softly with a quick nod.

“And you’re sure about this?” Adam’s question wasn’t filled with worry so much as amazement. “I meant he needs his bandage changed in the middle of the day, but he needs ointment put on it three times a day and then there’s the pain meds…”

I can’t help the lump that grows in my throat as I look over at my Dad with a sinking heart; it’s not that he’s saying it, but that he has to say it-the fact that this is my life now, the fact that Jude has to consider that I have bandages and ointments… I’m not even going to tell him about the humiliation of having to use a blow-up donut to sit down for the first two weeks of being home, I might actually die of embarrassment. “I think everything will be fine,” Jude was on the verge of exuding confidence.

With that I turn back to my french toast with a smile that just will not go away, so I make sure to keep my eyes and hands to myself for a while; in the mean time Mom and Dad both agree to go out and live in the real world for the day. Once we’re finished with breakfast and ready to head to our respective rooms to get dressed and mom is putting the breakfast things in the dish washer I relax a bit; that is until I’m making my way to the dishwasher and my Mom catches my eye.

I wave Jude off and tell him I’ll meet him in the living room when I’m done getting showered and dressed, but really my pulse starts racing as I lean against the kitchen counter waiting while the other two leave the room.

“What?” I sigh when we’re alone at last. “I knew you weren’t as comfortable as he said you were about him sleeping in my room, but…”

Mom’s soft laughter halts my rambling. She closes the dishwasher and looks at me with her soft green eyes that always looked greener when she wore this blue sweater. “Honey that’s fine, really; he told me about when I checked on you this morning and it’s no big deal. No, I just wanted to see if there was anything you wanted to talk about or go over before Dad and I leave; I mean, are you sure you want Jude to change your bandages, I know you’re sensitive about it.”

I take a deep breath and then exhale slowly, my eyes absent-mindedly tracks the dust that’s floating through the morning sunbeams. “I showed him yesterday,” I say softly. When she doesn’t say anything for a minute, I look over at her; her eyes are seem to shimmer for a moment as a smile slowly starts to curl her lips. “I guess I just figured that since we were both scared about the staples, that maybe at least if he saw them and…” I take another, shakier, breath. “It helped a little I think; he’s not so afraid to touch me.”

My mom’s arms wrapped around me without any preamble; I hadn’t noticed the moisture that had collected in my eyes as I had been talking. She murmured a soft “Oh Connor,” in my ear as she rubs her hands up and down my back and over my shoulders. I sniffle a little as I rest my head on her shoulder. Eventually I pull myself together and after mom gives me a kiss on my forehead I head off to my bathroom shower.

When I’m showered and dressed in a soft pair of grey plaid sweatpants and a faded red t-shirt I head back into the living room; Jude’s lounging on one of the sectionals, his ankles crossed and his lead lolling against a couple of throw pillows, as he reads some sort of text book. “Hey,” he says when he sees me; he closes his book and gently puts it on his lap. “Your mom and dad just left, said they’ll be back and they’ll bring dinner with them.”

As he’s speaking I make my way around the the back of the couch and by the time he’s finished I’m sliding down across from him; the couch is so long that even with both our legs stretched out straight our toes only barely touch. I lean back against the armrest as I look at the boy in front of me; he’s not as gorgeous as I remember him in my head from when we were thirteen, he’s more so. Jude’s eyes are still that warm chocolate brown that matches his hair, but his hair is shaggier and his face matches his body better now with less baby fat and more lean definition. But he’s the same boy under neath it all, especially the way that he looks at me with such deep affection and concern.

“You okay?” He asks softly when I don’t say anything for a long while; I guess he should get used to it though, this is what I do the most lately, daydream about him.

I sigh dreamily and prop my elbow on the couch so I can lean my cheek against my fist. “Yeah,” It comes out sounding far away, so I clear my throat and try again. “I guess I’m just still a little overwhelmed by this. I mean, you’re here.”

Jude smiles slowly as he shifts his legs. “You’re not thinking I’m a dream again are you?” By the time he’s done shifting he’s kneeling on the couch, but he’s much closer and his textbook is long forgotten somewhere behind him. Instead of a smile he’s smirking gently. “Cause I could persuade you otherwise.” His hands rest on top of his thighs, but I can see a mischievous glitter in his eyes.

I chuckle as I push myself up a little to get a better position then I out stretch my arms towards him. “Come here,” I whine gently and before I can even worry about staples or pain, Jude is sliding into the space under my arm between my body and the couch. I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling very content. “It’s not that I think you’re not real,” I say as I feel the solid weight of his head pressing on my shoulder and chest. “It’s that I’m afraid to get too comfortable with it; I know that no matter what ends up happening between us this weekend that you’re going back to school and I’m staying here.”

I shiver as Jude presses his face into me and takes his own huge breath; just having him this close makes all the wires in my brain come unloose and if it weren’t for the staples and the searing pain I don’t know what would happen. “Connor,” Jude’s voice is almost a whisper against my ear. “I won't ask you this again because either way it’s all going to happen, but I just figured that maybe we could have our “defining the relationship” talk later tonight. But, if you won’t be able to enjoy our day together if we don’t do it now, then we can do it now. It’s up to you.” He leaned up a little bit to catch my eye. “What do you want to do Connor?”

“Kiss me,” the words caught in my throat as I tried to stop them. And since I sounded pathetic already, I followed it with a desperate sounding “Please Jude,” that had Jude not already been pulling me down by the neck I would have had to run away from how humiliating it made me feel. But all the embarrassment was worth it; Jude’s lips were soft and he was gentle even as he held the back of my neck with one hand and caressed my jaw with the other. And even the gentleman, Jude simply pressed our mouths together until I shifted to be closer to him and ended up lower; I focused my attention on nibbling Jude’s bottom lip in the hopes that I would unlock his plush lips. He got the hint and with a breathy gasp he allowed me to lick into his mouth; I kept it shallow, slow, and lingering because Jude was doing his own magic on me. We break apart gently because Jude does this twirling thing with his tongue and I moan deeply.

As we’re catching our breath and staring at each other, Jude with worry and concern and me in amazement, we start to laugh. “Are you alright?” He asks, but in response I just press myself into his chest gently. I inhale through my nose, breath him in, and smile.

“I’m great,” I say when I finally turn my head to the side so he can hear me. “Why don’t I show you around now?” Jude’s smile was beyond words; if something could be soft and bright at the same time, I think it was that smile. He managed to climb over the back of the couch and then walk back around to help me up all while keeping that amazing smile on his face. I couldn’t help but smile too as his hands pulled me to my feet and then gently looped around my back.

We could talk later; right now I wanted to show Jude my life, because he and I both wanted that and he was right-no matter what we were going to have to talk. But right now the sun was shining outside and there was a late autumn breeze that made the whole house smell like memories. And I wanted to show Jude my memories. He deserved to know how I felt then and how I felt now. And he was here, so it was time.

Chapter Text

Somehow I wasn’t surprised to see Connor smiling as he opened up the door to his mom’s art studio; he had always enjoyed art classes at Anchor Beach, but he was so hardwired to be athletic and macho back then. Now he was showing me his mom’s art as we walked through the room; it was mostly watercolors and landscapes, but there were beautiful pieces that filled the room with life and natural magic. But the further we moved through the room the more excited Connor grew; I could see it in the way his smile grew and his fingers twined and tugged at mine.

We came to a stop as we neared a back corner where a desk was set against a wall, perfectly situated in front of a window that looked out over the valley; there were sketchbooks that seemed to be shoved out of the way, a couple of newer ones were carefully sitting in the center, a pencil box set in one corner and a kneaded eraser that’s pinched into a funny shape is sitting beside it. I wait until Connor turns to me, his smile suddenly reserved. “I worked so much with mom on her stuff that eventually I ran out of things to do,” his eyes turn down as he starts to babble softly. “So I started messing around…”

Connor quiets as I gently pull us closer together; I look down at him, but he continues to stare down, so I admire the way his eyelashes look like gold fringe against his cheek. “Connor?” My voice is a hushed plea. He looks up, his pupils nearly as golden as his lashes. “You don’t have to keep hiding, remember?”

He nodded slowly, but his eyes drifted far away for a moment. “I guess it’s just habit.”

“It’s okay,” I breathe a sigh of relief; Connor’s still learning to let people in, and I make a mental note to ask him if I’m the first person who’s gotten to see this part of him. “I go to art school, remember? I mean I know that it’s not the same, but I want to know. Please,” I whisper and I press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Show me Connor.”

He smiles, his cheeks pinking up, and then he moves closer to his desk. He sits down on his swivel chair and I perch myself on a chair that’s looking rather ignored. I pull it a bit closer so that I’m a bit behind Connor’s left elbow; for a long moment we both just stare through the window at the slightly smoggy air hanging over the sun-shimmering valley. “I realized that I had no idea what I actually liked about school, about life, about myself; so I started helping mom with her art and I don’t know…” Connor’s voice is so muddled with all the emotions, but I turn to watch his profile; he’s beautiful, even more so when I get to see him like this. “I’m not even sure if I’m any good, but mom says that I should just focus on what makes me happy right now.”

I smile as I watch his eyes dance; he’s trying to be strong, like he’s always had to be. “She’s right, you know; with everything you’ve been through, especially recently, you should focus on your own happiness. Like you said, you’re figuring out who are now, so go slow. No one’s gonna pressure you.” I place my hand on his shoulder softly, almost afraid of startling him out of his reverie; instead Connor makes a content sound and his head tilts towards my grip so I rub up his neck gently.

We sit like that for a moment and I come to the realization that Connor’s life now includes a lot of reflection and quiet contemplation. “Mind if I take a look at your sketchbook?” I ask as my fingers thread into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Sure,” he says quietly and we both reach for the book that’s laying on top of the pile. I take Connor’s hand and bring it to my mouth to kiss the knuckles. “You don’t have to,” he whispers and I catch a sad tone to his voice. “I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.”

“Hush,” I breathe and kiss his hand once more before picking up the book and bring it so that it sits between the two of us. Connor lets out a ragged breath as I flip open the cover; inside I see the different things that Connor’s been doing. There are charcoal messes, just like the first time I experimented with the sooty stuff; he’s got some wonderful still life in the black and white medium though. Further in are pencil drawings, sketches, and doodles from everything from florals to animated comic characters. Sure, some of it isn’t quite “correct” anatomically or spatially as my professors might say, but sketch books are supposed to be that way-a free flow of ideas, like a journal.

“This is beautiful Connor,” I say as my eyes finish gliding over the last couple of pages before I start flipping through blank pages; the book is only a quarter filled, so he’s got plenty of space to keep practicing. I gently close the cover before looking back at Connor. “Is your mom giving you lessons? Or is this all just natural talent?” I slide the book across the table back toward him, and I’m pleased to see the small smile and the slight tinge of pink appear on his profile.

He keeps his eyes turned down, his hands sliding over the cover of his sketchbook lovingly. “Nah,” he chuckles. “I figure I’m stuck here for the time being, once she’s got some free time I’ll ask her if she can teach me some basics. I don’t want to bug her right now though, she thinks she might be about to get a gallery to show her work.”

“Well you are very talented then if you haven’t had any lessons,” I say and lean towards him a little. “I’m impressed with your animation skills actually; I had a beginner’s animation class freshman year and I struggled just to get a C.” By the time I finish speaking my voice is a hoarse whisper and my face is hovering just over Connor’s shoulder.

He turns his head then, his eyes wide and his lips parted; he looks as if he’s about to say something, but after a moment he closes his mouth and leans up to press our lips together. It’s sweet and chaste, and even though it only lasts a moment I feel as if all my breath has been punched out of my chest. “Um…”

Connor’s bright eyes twinkle as he smiles at me softly, enjoying the baffled look that must be on my face. “It’s after noon, isn’t it?” I dazedly look at my phone’s time and nod dumbly. When Connor’s smile widens so much that I can see a dimple in his chin, I can’t help but smile too. “I need to take my pain meds and I’m starved; let’s go inside and put together some lunch.”

I smile pleasantly as I trail behind Connor as he leads us out of the studio; on our way back to the house he points out some of his favorite spots in the large backyard. I don’t even realize that we’ve been holding hands until we get to the sliding back door on the patio when Connor lets go to open the door. He goes inside and starts walking into the kitchen, throwing a smile over his shoulder at me as I close the door behind me.

When I get into the kitchen Connor’s leaning against the kitchen island; in this light I can see that he’s looking tired and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. I should know better, I think; I need to make sure that he takes it easy, he still has a lot of healing to do. He doesn’t seem to notice me until I come to lean against the island next to him, then he sighs heavily. I laugh lightly. “What do you feel like for lunch?”

He makes a muffled groan before chuckling. “Anything that I don’t have to cook?” That proves it, I think with a smile; Connor’s in need of a little taking care of, which is something that I am more than happy to provide.

“Alright,” I say and place my hands on his shoulders so I can guide him to one of the stools. Once he’s seated I go around the island to the refrigerator. “What can I get you to drink?” I ask over my shoulder as I open it up and stick my head in.

“Jude,” he whined. “You don’t have to do this.”

I pull out a glass and fill it with cool water from the pitcher in the fridge. I turn around with a flourish. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tease as I glide over to him and slide the drink in front of him. “But right now we’re having a nice lunch date at the best restaurant in town.” I clear my throat and make a serious face and stand up straight. “Welcome, do you know what you’d like to start with; appetizer, soup, salad? Or do you already know what you’d like already?”

Connor giggles before he sighs and takes a sip of his water. “Well, seeing as this is a nice place I guess I should have a salad or something healthy.”

I feel my face fall a bit even though I know we’re teasing now; I decide to just go with it. “Aw, come on Connor; salad is so easy. You sure you don’t want something like a burger or a patty melt?” My voice is whining as I lean over to the counter so our faces are closer. Just as he leans in I can’t help but press a kiss to his nose and pull back abruptly.

Connor laughs and smiles for a full minute at least, then he sighs with another softer smile. “How about a salad and a meatloaf sandwich; there’s some left over from a couple days ago, but nothing too complicated, okay?”

I straighten up again and give a little bow which has both of us laughing uncontrollably. I go about getting things moving; the salad is easy enough to make, I start with a bagged mix and start throwing things in. Connor is very helpful as I basically make up the salad across from him on the island; he asks for different things like bacon bits, grape tomatoes, croutons, and Italian dressing. I serve him his salad and serve myself as well; I place his in front of him and then place mine in front of the stool next to him. Connor starts eating as I push aside some of the salad ingredients and set about making two meatloaf sandwiches. I slice the meatloaf thin enough to fit comfortably in-between the slices of bread but thick enough to still be hearty, then I slice a tomato and split it between the two; Connor mumbles “cheese” through a mouthful of salad so I add that too. It’s like making grilled cheese except with more stuff in-between the bread; I cook them up in a pan with butter on both pieces of bread.

“Bon Appetit!” I say as I place the plates on the island with a bow. Connor smiles through the last bite of salad. I refill his glass of water and grab one for myself before I sit down and start enjoying my lunch. The food is good, better than I thought I could do; I’m just glad that I was able to do something for Connor. He clearly enjoys the food too because soon enough we’re both finished and he’s looking dreamy-eyed. “You said you needed your pain medications,” I say as I wipe my mouth and slide of my stool.

I go over to where Connor’s pill bottles are sitting on the kitchen counter and I read the labels to find the pain meds; I take out the pill and hand it to Connor. “Thanks,” he says solemnly as he stares at the white tablet in the palm of his hand.

I take my seat again, concerned at the way Connor’s acting. “Everything okay?” I place a hand on his shoulder.

He sighed and glanced over at me. “It’s just that once I take this I’m sure I’ll get groggy; you’ll be so bored if I pass out. I’m trying to decide whether I really need it or if I can tough it out for one day.” He seems so unhappy now, I hate to think that he’s having to decide between feeling better and me.

I rub his shoulder for a moment, noticing the tension there. “Connor,” I say softly. His eyes look at me from under his golden lashes. “Take your medication and we can go lay down on your bed and take a nap; I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way-please, Connor, I don’t want you to be in pain.” I continued to rub his shoulder for a few more minutes until I see him nod his head and feel some of the stress ebb out of him.

Connor takes the pill and finishes his glass of water, but I can see that he’s not exactly happy about it. I stand up and take Connor’s hand; he’s still got a little bit of a pout on his face when we kick off our shoes and I help him onto his bed. “Hey,” he says after he’s finished getting comfortable with his back against the wall, leaving enough space for me to get on the bed.

“Yeah?”

“Can you put an alarm on your phone? I don’t want to sleep away all our time together.” I nod and pull my phone out of my pocket. I put on an alarm and set it on his bedside table before I gingerly crawl onto the bed facing him.

He’s already drifting, I can tell y the way his eyelids are half closed and I can see his eyes are practically crossed. I don’t press too closely to him in case I hurt his staples, but I lean over him and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Sweet Dreams Connor.” I whisper and settle my head onto a pillow that smells deliriously of Connor.

Chapter Text

I feel like I’m floating; for a moment my brain jolts, remembering the way I felt as I came out of surgery. But some small piece of me stops my panic before it can wake me up. I feel soft. Everything around me is soft, something the hospital never was. And I’m warm. The hospital was always so sweltering, so suffocating; right now, I’m so comfortable. I don’t want to wake up. I’m enjoying the slight musk of a clean sweat, the soft cotton that’s under my cheek, and the gentle movement on my side.

I can’t help the whiny “mmm” that I emit when an annoying beeping starts. I turn my face further into the cotton of my pillow, not looking forward to turning off the noise and getting out of bed. Thankfully the beeping stops a moment later.

My head pops up, my eyes still closed, and my body feeling heavy. “Huh?” I mumble, as if someone had asked me a question. “Who turned off the heart monitor?” I gasp, my eyes opening for a brief moment, but nothing focused. “Am I dead?” I grumble as I fall back onto the bed like a zombie.

I can hear myself making small snoring sounds a while later. It’s interrupted by the vibrations of laughter that echo through my pillow. I make an annoyed sound, bring my hand up to my face and tap my pillow to convey my displeasure. The laughter grows until I’m jostled awake and the room is filled with it; I’m disappointed that I’ve been awoken, but I have to admit that it’s melodic and beautiful.

My pillow slides along my face as it pulls away and sits up, taking me with it slightly. “Come on sleepyhead,” Jude’s voice is like warm maple syrup. He runs a hand up and down my arm. “You didn’t want to sleep the day away,” he says softly.

“Yes,” I grumble as I try to force my eyelids open. “But that was before I realized how good you smell. I don’t think I’ve slept this well in forever.”

Jude chuckles more lightly now, moving his hand to my hair and gently swirling through my blonde hair. “I’m glad I could be of service, but your mom and dad will be home before too long and I know that you don’t want to spend the rest of the day asleep in your bed. There’s so much we have to look forward to before I go home in a day or so.”

It takes a little more sweetness and fondling on Jude’s part to really get my eyes to open. When they do, I’m not at all surprised to see Jude staring down at me with a soft smile on his face and stars in his eyes. I try to hide my blush by burrowing into his chest, but he only starts to giggle. “I’ll get up on one condition,” I grumble into his shirt.

“I’m all ears,” Jude sighs as he stretches a little.

I stretch out my spine like a cat, the pain meds dulling the sting of my staples straining. “We’ll get up and continue with the day as long as you sneak back here tonight so we can spend the night together.” I push myself up a bit more as I blink furiously. “You make sleeping so much easier Jude, I swear it’s a miracle.”

Jude makes a squeaky sound as he yawns. “I think that’s a very fair deal,” he says as he slides to the edge of the bed. “Shall we shake on it?”

I feel my neck crack as I shake my head and I follow Jude’s movements with my eyes. I can’t help but blush as I shamelessly oggle Jude; as he stretches his arms above his head, his shirt rides up and I can see his his jeans sitting on his hips, I drink in the appearance of Jude’s ivory skin. His stomach is flat with just the barest hint of a happy trail. And as Jude finishes stretching I watch as his bellybutton disappears back into hiding beneath his shirt.

I slide over to the edge of my bed so I can be eye level with Jude. “Seal it with a kiss,” I suggest as I hold my arms open to him. Jude reciprocated instantly, as if he belonged in my arms. Our lips met and I was flooded with so many emotions. It may have been a soft, chaste, sweet kiss, but as I pressed my slightly parted lips to Jude’s mouth I was overwhelmed. My heart hammered in my chest, something that had happened often since the surgery, but this was different. I wasn’t panicked about doctor’s visits or test results, instead I was overjoyed and soaring.

Jude pulled away to catch his breath, and it wasn’t until then that I realized how he had stolen my breath too. My hands were twined in the hair at the nape of his neck, and it was easy to see that this was becoming their favorite spot. I drew Jude in slowly, pressing our foreheads together, so I could continue inhaling Jude.

“I’ll be here come hell or high water,” Jude huffs into my ear.

I smile into his hair as he wraps his arms around my waist and picked me up off the bed. He gently placed me on the ground. I giggled and pressed a thank you kiss to his neck as we separated enough to start walking back out to the living room.

“What do you feel like doing now?” Jude asked as we got into the living room.

It was closer to three in the afternoon and the house was warmer than I liked. “I was going to suggest we go back out to the garden, but it gets kind of muggy out there when it’s this warm. I’d kind of like to stay inside, maybe crank the air conditioner a little. But there isn’t much to do in here.”

Jude doesn’t seemed phased. “I kind of like that idea of staying inside; I’ve gotten so used to the cool weather from up North, sometimes the muggy weather here can give me headaches. I’m sure we can find something to keep us entertained.”

Together we went over to the thermostat and adjusted it to a lower temperature; Jude made jokes about being a weirdo for liking to keep his place cold so that he could comfortably snuggle into his blankets. I couldn’t help but agree with a laugh. After dealing with the temperature Jude asked me about the house.

“You know, mom moved here a few years back.” I say as I realize that of the two of us, we’ve probably seen about the same amount of this house. “This whole thing with the surgery, it’s the first time I’ve been here. And now that I think about it, I haven’t been up stairs cause of the staples.”

Jude’s eyes light up. “Well, I’m here now; why don’t we go exploring?”

We headed up the stairs, Jude’s arm around my waist. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. And just being with Jude was exactly what I wanted. We could have been just sitting together on the couch doing absolutely nothing and I think I would have been happy. No, happy really wasn’t the right word. I was blissful. And after all the things I had put my body and heart through the past decade or so, I knew what physical ecstasy felt like, but this was something beyond what I’d felt with any other person.

It turned out that my mother’s new house was larger than I thought. The second floor was in a more open layout; Jude’s room was directly to the right of the stairs. “You know, I was only in here for a few minutes last night, I don’t think I really looked at anything other than my duffel bag.” Jude commented as we walk into the guest room that he hasn’t even slept in.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing that we decided to come up here,” I joke as I take in the boarder of paisley wallpaper around the room and flop onto the bed like a starfish-something that is so much easier because this bed is lower to the ground. “What if my mother were to ask you if your room was comfortable over breakfast? You would be forced to admit that you’ve been spending your time in my bed instead of this one.” I moan in exaggerated and mocking exhaustion. “By the way, the answer is that this room and bed are very comfortable, don’t you agree?”

I lift up my head slightly to see where Jude has gotten to. He’s across the room, putting his duffel in the wardrobe that sits opposite the bed. He smiles at me over his shoulder as he closes the door with a small squeak. “I don’t know, I mean my view right now is definitely a perk, but you know that heat rises so your room is cooler.”

I blush at his comment of the view, seeing as he’s practically leering at me as he leans against the wardrobe. I let my head fall back against the plush mattress with a giggle. Jude’s room is on the opposite side of the house as mine, so his huge window seat looks out over the garden. After he helps me back onto my feet, Jude and I stand there and look out at the landscape. The haze over the valley seems to glitter in the heat and I can’t help but sigh and lean into Jude a bit more. “You alright, not getting too tuckered out are you?” He whispers into the gentle silence that’s surrounding us.

“Just…” I can’t find a word good enough, so I sigh. “Happy.”

We continue looking around the rest of the second floor, making sure not to intrude into my mother’s bedroom. There’s another bathroom up here and there’s a mismatched room that I think is a library-there are bookcases and shelves set against the walls, all assortment of books and magazines tucked into them. In the middle of the room there’re equally mismatched pieces of furniture that may not qualify as couture but each one looks extremely comfortable. Jude and I wander along the walls, scanning through some of the book titles that are prominent.

“Your mom has a thing for the Renaissance poets,” Jude comments from the other side of the room. I look over my shoulder, but he’s running his hands over a couple of leather bound books.

“Yeah, well, she’s also got a thing for the Batgirl graphic novels and the Green Arrow.” I snicker as I pull one of the glassy books out of a stack on a shelf.

“She’s got an eclectic taste,” Jude smiles as I plunk myself down on an overstuffed footstool. “Think she would mind if I borrowed something for the night?” He holds up a small, ancient-looking, leather book. I feel my face crumple, the thought of Jude being bored with me by tonight and in search of something to occupy himself with striking at the confidence I’ve managed to gather.

Jude steps closer and crouches down so we’re eye level with each other, a serious look on his face. “Connor, Connor, don’t go to a bad place.” His hands find mine, and I take the opportunity to stare at our fingers as opposed to Jude’s concerned face. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I can guarantee that it’s not nearly as bad as you probably think.” He takes a deep breath, his thumb sliding over my knuckles gently. “I love this poet, he’s my favorite, and I wanted to do something romantic for you tonight. I wanted to read to you.”

I look up at Jude through my lashes, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. The concern on his face is just too much. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut and imagine the ground opening up and swallowing me. “God, I’m sorry Jude. I’m such a wreck. I’m so sorry.” I babble until Jude leans forward to capture my bottom lip in his.

I make a surprised sound and my eyes fly open for a moment. I let them flutter closed as my hands find the back of his neck. We take turns sucking on each other’s lips, our tongues teasing just slightly. I pull away and giggle when Jude’s lips try to follow; instead, I press a kiss to his nose. “I’m…”

“Don’t even start Connor,” Jude says seriously. “I don’t need you to be sorry for how you feel; what I do need is for you to feel comfortable enough to be able to be yourself and let me know what you’re thinking and feeling.”

I smile. “I think I can do that. Or,” I breathe. “At least I’ll try.”

When Jude just continues to stare at me with a cautious smile on his face, I clear my throat. “I’m sure that mom won’t miss one book for one night.”

We both chuckle awkwardly before we both stand up. “Let’s head back downstairs, I think we both deserve a little time snuggled up on the couch. What do you think?” Jude nods his head and kisses my cheek lovingly.

As we’re making ur way down the first couple of steps Jude freezes. “Hey, is it okay if I bring my laptop? All I need is an outlet and the wifi password. I could show you some of my life, you know, now that we’re sharing. What do you think?”

My smile stretches even wider. “I’d really love that.” And before I can blink Jude’s rushing back up the steps and dashing into his room. God, I think, I don’t want him to go. How am I going to handle saying good-bye to him in little more than a day? I haven’t slept this well or felt this good since before the surgery. I’ve known that I loved Jude for a while now, but falling in love with him has been more than I expected. And I never want to give that up. Whoever decided that absence makes the heart grow fonder was an idiot, an idiot who was never in love with anyone have as sweet or gorgeous as Jude. I don’t want to be away from him ever again. Come hell or high water, that was what Jude had said.

Chapter Text

I sat with Connor half in my lap on the couch, the laptop sitting on the armrest, and feeling more at home than I have felt in a very long time. Connor seemed comfortable too, his head on my shoulder, as I clicked through photos I had taken from school and around the city.

“I can’t believe you get to spend so much time just working on art and writing like that,” Connor breathed, his face full of wonder.

I smirk. “Yeah, well it’s not all fun and games. I still have classes — normal classes — and I have assignments and professors that don’t understand how much it costs to just live in the city.”

I pull open a file folder on my sim card from the last student show the school had, I hadn’t been featured because I had been focusing on creative nonfiction that semester but Virginia and her roommate had been. It had been so nice. I had felt very grown up, attending the opening as if it were an actual gallery; the school had provided drinks, canapés, and even invited the friends that they ad in the press. I start flipping through the photos with Connor, pointing out Virginia and her pieces.

“Who’s that, Jude?” Connor asks, pointing to the screen.

I sigh and slowly close the laptop. “That,” I say solemnly. “Is Paolo.” The photo had been taken almost a month or more before I had gotten back into contact with Connor; it showed Paolo posing, a fact fake champagne glass in his hand and a fist on his hip and a funny face.

“Your roommate?” Connor slides a little off my lap. I can’t bring myself to look at him, I stare into the space where the computer screen had been. “The one who’s been so horrible to you?” I nod my head. “He looks nice enough in that picture.”

“Turns out I didn’t know him as well as I thought,” I say softly. “You know, Connor, you weren’t the only one who had gotten into some sticky situations with relationships.”

I don’t know what I expected, but I feel cold as Connor slides away from me and sits up against the opposite arm rest. I put the laptop on the coffee table and situate myself into a similar position. I find Connor sitting, a calm and curious frown wrinkling his forehead, with his knees bent and his elbow on the back of the couch with a fist smashed into his cheek in the most adorable way. We sit for a while, just looking at each other.

“I should have known better than to get involved with a roommate,” I said sullenly with a soft groan as I let my head fall to the side and land on the back of the couch. “He saw it as a relationship, and I guess I should have been more careful about being so casual with my choices and their implications. He wanted more and I wanted less.”

Connor closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed long and slow. “I can’t judge, since you know all of my faults. I guess that’s what youth is for, right? We’ve both been a little careless with others hearts…” Connor opens his eyes, the soft hazel shining with emotion. “And not so gentle with our own.”

“I never meant to hurt you, in all the chaos that was going on with Paolo I never considered how much it might be causing you pain as well.” I reach out a hand along the back of the couch.

Connor extends his own hand, the one that was smashed into his cheek. We tangle our fingers. “I hope you know the same is true for me; I never meant to put you through what I did, especially when I called you so late to lay all my problems on you. I felt so guilty after that, so terrible for not only all of my problems but the fact that I was hurting you.” He breaths deeply. “I never want to hurt you Jude.”

I smile softly, staring at our fingers as they slide against each other; Connor’s skin is softer than I could imagine. “Is it going to be horrible for you when you go back?” Connor asks softly, his thumb running over my knuckles. “I mean, with Paolo being your roommate and everything?”

“Shouldn’t be for too much longer,” I say with a heavy breath. “I filed for a room change and so did he. One of us is moving rooms sooner rather than later, just a matter of time.”

A wrinkle had formed on Connor’s forehead and his eyes seemed far away. “I didn’t think, when I started looking for you after the surgery…” he closed his eyes. “I was selfish really, not thinking about where you might be in your life. I was only thinking of what I wanted. I know you said you didn’t want my apologies Jude, but I feel like I’ve screwed up your entire life by just trying to talk to you.”

Connor’s eyelashes were glistening, his eyes still closed, and his voice rasped at the end of his sentence. And as I looked at him, sitting on the opposite side of the couch;he looks so small, like the boy I remember sitting next to me at lunch with his nails painted blue. I smile and slide onto my knees on the couch in front of Connor. “You,” I say as I gently take his face in my hands. “Gave us both something we didn't know we needed.”

Connor’s teary eyes flutter open as he sniffles quietly. “When you first got back in contact with me, I was scared to get hurt again so I hid behind a wall of anger. I thought that I should make you feel how I had felt, the uncertainty of we would ever be anything. But you were open and honest and I couldn’t deny that that was the boy I remembered. You, Connor,” I took a shaky breath. “were just as lost as I was, only I was still pretending that nothing was missing from my life.”

Connor gave me a watery smile as he sniffled and tried to hold back his tears. Very carefully, so as not to strain his staples, I scoot closer until I can encompass Connor with my legs and my arms; I am finally grateful for my long limbs as I cross my ankles behind his rump-that cute, perfectly round rump. I run my hands over his shoulder blades, slowly counting his breaths. “I think I love you Connor Stevens,” I whisper in his ear before I press a kiss just under it. “I don’t regret you finding me,” I take a slow breath as I hear his hitch. “I don’t want you to regret it either.”

We sit there, just like that, and together we let out all of our emotions; my eyes water as I kiss away the tears on Connor’s cheeks. I let him cry his eyes out on my shoulders, holding him as he whispers in my ear “Oh Jude” and “Love you too” as I rock him softly. I make soft shushing sounds to try to calm us both, but its clear that it just needs to run its course.

“I don’t want you to go Jude,” he whimpers once he’s cried all his tears and his head is resting on my shoulder. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“No regrets though, right?” I ask as I stroke his cheeks.

His eyes shine as the corners of his mouth stretch upwards. “No regrets,” he says stoically. “We can still talk and maybe you can visit during the summer. We’ll figure it out,” he sighs. “I’m just going to miss you. That’s all.”

I realized after a while that we were still kind of tangled up in each other; this couldn’t be very comfortable for Connor’s staples. “How are you feeling?” I ask. “Should I change your bandage or get your pain medication?”

Connor laughs at me as we slowly pull away; thankfully, I fell off the couch in my attempt to keep Connor as stable as possible so there was even more to laugh about. “I don’t like it when you worry,” he finally managed to get out. “So I’ll let you change my bandage if it will ease your mind.”

He continued to chuckle; I got up from the floor, my tailbone sore from the fall. While I went to his room to get the supplies to change the bandage he stretched out on his back and lifted his shirt and lowered his sweatpants to give me access to the sutures. I managed to go through the process with more calm than I did the first time, and Connor only winced a bit. “Better?” He asked as I finished up and he readjusted his clothes.

“I wish I could stay too, you should know that Connor.” I say as I grab the remote control for the television. “I want to take care of you, and if I could I would.”

I turn on the television and settle down next to Connor; I let him pick out something to watch. He sighs heavily as he lets his head fall onto my shoulder. “I guess that just means that we have something to look forward to right?”

I kiss his forehead and he turns hushed so I can kiss his cheek as well. “I guess you’re kind of anxious to get back on your feet? Do you have any ideas yet on what you want to do once the doctors clear you?”

He shook his head, but I could see the hint of a smile on his face. “It’s both terrifying and thrilling; I feel so free.” He said softly as he focused back on the screen in front of him.

Chapter Text

I fell asleep on the couch, Jude’s arm around me, my head on his chest, and the television on in the background. We had been watching some retro rerun movie on a movie network, I think I heard cheering so maybe it was one of the “Bring it on” movies. All I could really focus on was how comfortable I felt in Jude’s arms. After all the emotional stuff we’d drudged up, I guess it was to be expected that we were both a little exhausted. I enjoyed snuggling into his warm arms, especially knowing that we were on the same page. We were both going to miss each other, but at least we both understood that now and we had some idea of what we could do to in the mean time.

I don’t know how long we lay there, cuddled in warm silence as the television played softly behind my back. Nothing could compare to the peace that I was feeling. I hoped that Jude was just as comfortable; I didn’t want him worrying too much about me, especially if he can’t do anything because he’s back at school. It wouldn’t be the same once he went back, but at least I was getting better each day. Jude was right, I was getting a little restless with so much “down time”. Maybe I should start thinking about what I was going to once I was well again.

It wasn’t until much later, when I heard the sound of a door closing and Jude’s arms tightened around me, that I started to wake up. “What was that?” I asked, my voice sounding rough even to my own ears.

“Nothing,” Jude whispered in my ear as he ran a hand down my back. “Go back to sleep sweetheart.” I felt him press a kiss to my hair.

I nuzzled my face into the material of Jude’s shirt, his chest a firm reminder that he’s still there with me. I haven’t even opened my eyes, just buried myself deeper into the safety I feel. In the haze of sleep I can hear the soft sound of footsteps and whispered conversations. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but I didn’t mind as long as Jude’s hand was trailing patterns over my shoulder blades.

The next time I stirred it was because I could smell something even more delicious than Jude. “What is that?” I ask groggily. I lifted my chin, my eyes still closed, and sniffed the air. I could smell garlic, onion, and something else that made everything smell like pizza.

“Your mom and dad got home a little bit ago and they’re cooking dinner,” Jude whispered in my ear even as he chuckled softly under his breath. “Think they’re making something Italian. Smells good, doesn’t it?”

I nod my head into his shoulder and make a quiet “mhm” as I shift around. I realize that my hip’s completely numb from laying in the same position for so long. I stretch my whole self, from my toes all the way up my spine and arching my back. My eyes cracked open as I relaxed, my hips wiggling a bit through the tingling to get the feeling back in them. Jude had turned the television down by now, so he was cuddled up to me with his head tucked over my shoulder so he could see the screen even though he was focused on me right now.

“Good timing,” I said as I twisted a bit so I could see him better. Jude loosened his grip so I could move around a little more. “I’m getting hungry. How about you?” Jude nodded. “Any idea what they’re making?”

“Baked ziti and pork chops I think,” he said before leaning and pressing a kiss to the side of my head. He lingered there, his nose pressed into my hair and his breath warm against my skin. “Did you enjoy the nap?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “But now I’m sure to be up a while tonight sleepless. The pain meds have been making me so sleepy at strange hours. I’m not very tired by the time nighttime comes around. Half the time I feel like a ghost, up at all hours while everyone else is asleep.”

There was the soft sound of footsteps coming from over the back of the couch before my mother poked her head over it with a smile. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said softly. “But I wanted to let you now that dinner’s ready whenever you want to eat.”

I sat up slowly, leaning over Jude slightly as he giggled. “I was just telling Jude how delicious it smelled. I’m ready to eat. What do you think Jude?” I glanced down with a smile, meeting Jude’s twinkling eyes. “Should we head to the dinner table?”

We all chuckled. My mom ruffled my hair before walking off to set the table and get dad ready for dinner. Jude helped me up from the couch as we continued to laugh at each other. We made our way slowly into the kitchen and then followed my mom as she took the plates into the dining room. Jude was right, my mom had pulled out all the stops for dinner; I didn’t want to think about this being one of the last meals that we’d be able to share with Jude. Instead, I focused on the delicious food that mom had made for us; the pork chops, in addition to being breaded in breadcrumbs and parmesan cheese, were thick and the ziti was gooey with ham and peas tossed into it. I just enjoyed the feel of bread and butter, the taste of the food on my tongue, and the look in Jude’s eyes as we sat across from each other and had a lovely family dinner.

I floated through the evening in a happy food haze; we all fell onto the couches after dinner and watched a movie, but I really didn’t notice more than the warmth and softness of Jude’s hand as it ran over my shoulder. It wasn’t until Jude and I said “good-night” to each other at the bottom of the stairs, long after my parents had gone to bed in their separate rooms, that I realized how cold the house was. Jude’s warmth faded from me as I wandered into my room. I hadn’t realized how late it was because Jude’s heat had made it feel like the sun was still shining. After I changed into my pajamas, I slowly struggled to get settled onto my bed trying to keep my groans muffled. I was just getting comfortable, smooshing the pillows into a better position, when I heard the soft knock on my door.

I lay back against the pillows as I whispered “Come in” and watched Jude enter with a smile on my face. He closed the door softly behind him, a smile of his own stretching his face. He came over to the bed and effortlessly swung himself up onto the space that I had left for him next to me. Suddenly I was cocooned in warmth again.

“You okay?” He asked as he rolled onto his side so we were eye to eye. “You look like you have something on your mind. You’ve been distracted since dinner. Is everything alright?”

“I dunno,” I sighed as I let him place a hand on my hip. “I guess I’ve just been trying to digest all the things we talked about today. It just got me thinking about how it’s going to be when you go back to school; I’m going to miss you, but I realized its mostly because I’ve had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I’ve had in years and I’m going to be so bored when you leave tomorrow.”

I let out another dramatic sigh and let my head flop onto my pillow with a sad pout. Jude smiled at me with a sympathetic chuckle. “Don’t think of it as me leaving, think of it as we’re going on different adventures and then when we get to see other again we’ll get to share our stories with each other.”

But that brought to mind the thing that had been sitting in my mind since the end of our chat this afternoon. I took a deep breath before I looked up at Jude. His eyes were such a warm melted caramel hazel, and I could feel his affection washing over me. “Jude, I know it’s soon, but well you are leaving tomorrow so there really isn’t much time left. So, I’m just going to lay it all out there…” I tried not to be nervous. “When you leave, what will we be to each other? Are we still just friends? Are we dating? Are we together, but still building the foundation? I just want to know where we stand.” It felt like it took forever for me to get all the words out, and by the time I finished I realized that I was suddenly focused on the pattern on my comforter.

I felt Jude’s hand gently squeeze my hip before it trailed up to my shoulder. He shook me lightly, his hand massaging my shoulder blade until I finally let my gaze flit up to meet his. He was smiling, a soft, sincere smile that made those caramel eyes of his glow. He took his time, just touching me and smiling at me until I remembered that this was Jude; I had no reason to be nervous. Eventually he brought his hand to my cheek. “I would say that when I leave here, I will be very conflicted because…” He took a deep breath and his smile got even brighter. “I’ll be leaving behind my boyfriend Connor.”

I felt all my air leave my lungs, at least it felt like it. And in the next moment, Jude was kissing me and actually stealing my breath away. I knew, logically, that there was a bed under me, but it felt like as I kissed Jude and he kissed Jude that I was falling into a great abyss. Was this what people meant when they said that they were falling for someone? I could get used to this. Losing my breath felt more like living than I had actually lived.

Chapter Text

Hello to anyone out there reading this. First, I cannot put into words how much I love writing and sharing my creativity with anyone who wants to see it; it fills me with no small amount of humility and pride. Second, I have not forgotten about any of these stories, I promise you; I am currently at a point in my life where I am in school again (I am more than half way through a program to become a Veterinary Technician) and while I still write it is not at the amount that I used to during previous times in my life. I still would love to be able to write full time, be published, maybe make a living using my creativity. That is why I wanted to post, to see how my readers might feel about that. As I mentioned, I still write, and recently I've been writing more poetry (time-wise it fits into my life easier than chapter writing) and I was thinking about putting together a book of poetry that I could then send out with query letters to literary agents; I've never done this before, but I assume it's a little bit like fishing, where you bait a few hooks, send them out, see if you get any nibbles.

So, as those of you who have read my work will not know me for my poetry, how would you feel if I were to publish some poetry? Would you still want to read it? Are you more of a story reader?

Also, since we're here, and you've read this far into this non-update update... let's get to know one another a little bit better. I'll go first....

I'm 33, I live in Southern California, currently live in my childhood home with my parents (who are separating- very uncomfortable), and as my screen name eludes to I love Lavender and I am a Sagittarius. I went to school to become a writer, but they taught me how to write (which I already basically knew how to do) instead of teaching me how to find a job in the literary field, so now I need to find a way to support myself while I write in my spare time (which I have very little of).

Tell me a little bit about you (don't make yourself uncomfortable though). And let me know if you have any questions for me.