Thirty-Two

Jude

The Warehouse Parking Lot

Saturday, April 7

8:45 p.m.

“Lauren.” I scrub my hands through my hair. “Christ, Lauren, you can’t do this.” I look through the windshield at the warehouse. Before I let Lauren see who or what’s behind that door, I’ve gotta tell her everything. She has to know before it’s too late. Revenge won’t get her anywhere. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

“Jude, there’s no time—” She reaches for the door handle, but I put a hand on her forearm to stop her. I feel the knife, hard under her sleeve. Mother of Christ.

“Lauren”—my voice is heated—“this is hard enough for me to say, and you’ve gotta listen.” I take a deep breath. She still seems impatient, but she waits for me to finish.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” I repeat. “After you made fun of the gift I worked so hard on, that dumb phoenix thing, which God, I know now you never even got”—I plow on before she can try to leave the car again—“but when you said those things over the loudspeaker…”

“Jude.” Her eyes are pained. “I never meant—” She breaks off and reaches over to squeeze my hand. I force myself to meet her gaze. She’s so beautiful. So open. The way she’s looking at me…like she sees me, like she sees something in me, something worthy.

I squeeze her hand back, probably too hard. Then I pull away, ’cause I can’t handle her pulling away first. And that’s exactly what she’ll do in about ten point two seconds once she hears all I have to say. I swallow and continue.

“And then everyone started bullying me. It was a bad time.” We both know that’s an understatement. She doesn’t know just how much, and I don’t ever want her to know how bad it was.

I look out the window. “When I moved to my mom’s, I was so angry.” Crap, I don’t even know how to explain it. “Really, really angry. And then when I went on this intense medicine that cleared up my skin, people were treating me better all of a sudden, like at school and stuff. But it was still there. All that anger. More than I’d ever felt before. I thought I hated you.”

She winces again and now I try to go on as quickly as I can. She has to know that I get her impulse to grab that knife. That the darkness in me calls to the darkness in her. Maybe she’ll be able to forgive me and we can both just drive away from here.

“I know it wasn’t you I hated. I get that now.” I laugh humorlessly. “I learned a lot of crap the hard way this year. I—” My words are fumbling again, but I know there’s a big idea here. God, I need her to understand. Please let her understand. “That’s what hate does. It makes you think it’s all about someone else. But really, it’s only in you, like, feeding on itself. But it’s a fucking parasite. Eating you alive. That’s what it did to me anyway.”

Her brows knit in confusion. Crap, I’m rambling, probably not making any sense. It’s time to just say it.

“I saw those music videos on YouTube of you and Kadence doing so great, saw how many hits you were getting, millions of them. You were like some kind of sensation or something. And it pissed me off even more. I was so angry that you were both doing so well when I was still miserable. The medicine I was taking can have these bad side effects. Like mental, emotional side effects. It was making me a little off. Even more angry.” I take a quick breath. “So I wanted to come back here because I wanted revenge. And Ren, I don’t want you to make the same mistake. You’ve gotta understand that before you walk into that building.”

When I look back at Lauren, her eyes aren’t sorrowful and empathetic anymore. No. They’re wide. Jesus Christ. She’s afraid of me.

“What did you do, Jude?”

“I never meant for things to go as far as they did,” I say quickly. “I swear to you.”

“What. Did. You. Do?” Her grip is tight on the knife again, and she’s moving her body closer to the door. And I can’t say I blame her.

I sag against my own door. “It was the night before one of your concerts last fall. I see how stupid it was now. So freaking dangerous. I wasn’t thinking. Didn’t realize…” I squeeze my eyes shut in pain.

“What did you do?” she rasps.

“I poisoned you,” I blurt out. Damn it, that wasn’t how I meant to say it. Not so blunt.

“You…” Her voice is trembling. “You what?”

I reach for her, but she pulls back. So I try words instead. “I got detention for smoking on school property. As part of my detention I had to work in the cafeteria for a week. It was spaghetti-and-meatball day, and I knew you didn’t like that and would go for the sandwich option.”

“Jude…”

“It was this stupid split-second decision. The lunch lady had told me earlier to toss out a packet of chicken that had accidentally been left out overnight, but I hadn’t done it yet. When I saw you coming, I pulled out one of those slices and put it on your sandwich real quick.”

I rush on when she doesn’t say anything, just stares at me open mouthed. “I swear I only meant to make your lunch taste like shit. Maybe make you throw up, at the most. I was so mad and messed up back then. I don’t know if that’s an excuse, the meds I was on—but I swear I was only trying to ruin your day, not your life.”

The words are tumbling over themselves as I try to get them all out at once. “I never meant for you to have to go to the hospital or to get your stomach pumped, or God, for your throat to get infected.” I cringe at the words coming out of my mouth. “I swear, if I had known, I never would’ve done it. It was stupid, just a horrible decision I made in the spur of the moment.” My voice breaks. I can see the horror overtaking her face. Her eyes flick back to the warehouse and then widen again as she brings them back to me.

I have no idea what she’s thinking, but before I can say anything more, she’s reaching for the door.

“Please, wait, no! I never meant for—” But she’s already out and sprinting into the night. Away from me.

I follow her out of the car and shout, “Wait, stop! I swear, Lauren! I would never hurt you again. Come back, it’s too cold out here. Please come back!”

I run in the direction I think she went, but it’s so dark it’s hard to tell. I pause, trying to listen for her footsteps. Damn it. I still have her keys. This is a horrible part of town. She can’t be out here by herself. I have to find her.