Between Black and Sunshine (4 page)

My first reaction, when I opened Jude’s picture was a big giant hard on. My second reaction was that I should delete it from my phone, immediately. This single picture could be my undoing. This was the picture I could lose myself to completely. This picture is the epitome of everything I love. Jude as her naked, vulnerable self. The Jude that I’ve always thought of as mine. I should have erased it, but I didn’t. I plugged my phone into my laptop and made sure that picture had a safe home.

I’ve been trying to prepare myself- my mind, my heart, my body- for Jude’s arrival. If I knew I could keep her safe from me I would move her here; into this shoddy warehouse with me and the guys. I would lock us away in my room and let us fall into each other in every way possible. 

She would be happy here. She would like Rake, Anthony and Miles. They would love her. In fact, they are already becoming protective of her as I try, in every fucked up way possible, to prepare for her.

These last few months have been shit and I’m ashamed of the crap I’ve pulled trying to be a guy that Jude won’t want. That she will, in fact, hate.

My lamest attempt was the night I decided that I would get involved with a blonde sorority girl in order to convince Jude that, not only was I a male whore, but that my type was very un-Jude. I got the girl all the way back to my apartment before I decided I couldn’t pull it off. The girl and Rake both declared me and asshole, and they were right.

After that I said
fuck it
and decided to hand myself over to the hard drugs that I usually stayed away from because they always unearthed the monster living inside of me… which was the point – Jude would see who I really am. She wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me. Miles ended up with a broken arm, and Anthony and Rake told me to get my shit together or get the hell out.

My last attempt was to be the good guy; the one who would only take care of her. Someone she would need but wouldn’t want. I cut my hair to a respectable length. I traded in my Dickies for a pair of tan pants. I took off my dirty t-shirt and replaced it with a button down. The metal came off my face. I stayed away from the bars. I stopped listening to music. I revisited my days of finding a way out of myself through the church. The guys sat back and watched – confused, slightly amused.

It seemed like my best option but at night, on the phone with Jude, I couldn’t pretend to be that douche bag. I gave that shit up a few days ago. The only lasting memory of that guy is my short hair, my lack of face metal and the crucifix still hanging around my neck.

I was just beginning to think that my efforts were pointless, that I should just let her know how this shit could very likely turn out and give her the option to choose me or not. But when I called her she was acting all distant and fake and when she hung up the phone without an “I love you”, I began to think that wasn’t necessary. It seemed like I was going to have to be the one trying to let go, because it felt like she was already gone.

And then she sends me this damn picture. How am I supposed to be near her and not want my Jude? Not think about her naked face, her naked body?

She sent the picture twenty-four hours ago. She’s leaving tomorrow. I need to call her now.

I pick up my phone and dial her number. By the third unanswered ring I think she must be pissed that it’s taken me this damn long to respond to her gift and she’s not going to pick up at all, but then her quiet voice comes on the phone. “Hey,” she whispers.

“Hey, sweet girl,” I say, just as quietly, trying to shove the picture Jude out of my brain. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you last night. I got your picture and I was trying to figure out what the hell to do about it.”

She laughs a muffled, sad laugh. “What are the options?” she asks, dead serious.

“Delete it, or spend hours staring at it, deciphering every millimeter of it.”

“Let me guess, you deleted it?” She sounds a little like the old sarcastic Jude and the corner of my mouth lifts.

“That’s what I should have done. But I’m weak and it’s been too long since I’ve seen your soft skin.”

“But that’s the last time you’ll see it?”

“I think I’ll probably spend a lot of time looking at that photo.”

“But not at me.”

“No, Jude. Not at you.”

She lets out a long sigh and I wish like hell I could tell her I’m going to rip her damn clothes of and devour every inch of her flesh as soon as she’s within arm’s length, but I know I can’t say that. I know I can never do that.

“Fine,” she says, giving up like she does with me lately. I should be happy not to fight with her, but this is not the real us.

“What time are you guys leaving tomorrow?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Callie’s coming at six. We have reservations for the night at some hotel in Wyoming. I’ll be there late on Saturday.”

“Call me from the road tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she says flatly with no emotion. Tonight she’s not the angry girl or the happy girl.

I have so much I want to say to her, so many things I want to talk to her about, but I’m trying to follow her lead so I swallow it all down. But I need her to know one thing. “Once you’re here I’m not going to be able to say these words to your face so I’m just going to say it now.”

“What?”

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, will ever see. I will never love anyone the way I love you, Jude. The picture you sent me…don’t pull that shit when you’re here with me- it will just push me away. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe, and I don’t want to lose you, Jude. You can’t do this to me, not when you’re here with me.”

“Whatever, Luca. I’m starting to think that it’s best to have none of you if you’re never going to give me all of you. I had that once, I had all of you, I know how good it is. I’m tired of this fraction version of you. When I get there I think I’ll do whatever the hell I want. You can have me, or you can leave me. It might just be a chance I’m willing to take.”

My chest restricts at her words. This is the Jude I know; the one who loves me. But it’s also the new Jude; the one who’s done with my shit and ready to move on if that’s where I let things go with her. The tables have turned: she might be willing to let that happen, but I don’t think I am. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t know if it’s fair that you get what you want if I never have a chance at what I want.”

What we want
. “Just get here, Jude.”

“Coming. Bright and early.”

“I love you,” I tell her because I can’t keep not telling her.

I hear her long intake of breath. She’s not going to say what she wants, she’s sucking it back into herself. “I love you too,” she finally says before hanging up.

Fuck
. I take one last, long look at my picture of Jude, memorizing every beautiful piece of her before closing it down and moving it into a folder. I right click and name the folder DON’T DO IT YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE. I open up a different folder on my desktop. One called, THE REASON I NEED TO STAY AWAY. I read through every piece of paper in that file, the words that are so disturbing I only force myself to read them when I know it’s bad, when I can feel the fight to stay away from her growing weak. I read through each word and then I shut it all down and close my eyes, holding on to the words, to the proof. It works for a minute, but the pixels of Jude start clicking together against my will until I find myself falling into sleep with nothing in my mind but the living picture Jude.

I shift in my body in the passenger seat of Callie’s car. My back is filled with bruises- something I haven’t felt for a long time. If I couldn’t feel the evidence I might not believe that what happened two days ago had actually happened at all.

I thought I had that piece of my life under control. I believed he no longer had any real power over me.  It almost feels like I’m just discovering that I have been living with an abuser –
Arnie? I know he’s an asshole, but I wouldn’t think he was capable of physical abuse.

His beatings were always violent. An ordeal that involved many of his body parts and many of mine. I had forgotten how brutal he is. I had let myself feel almost sorry for him- for his recent lack of purpose in our home.

I managed to get my ass off the floor the next morning. I closed the suitcase that had remained on my bed. I took it, and my purse, and left everything else behind. I walked through the pain and into the kitchen where Arnie and Patsy sat sipping their coffee. I kissed my mom on the cheek and told her goodbye and at six A.M., exactly, I walked out the door and into Callie’s car. I didn’t look back.

I don’t remember much of the drive. Callie cried and cursed as I laid in the backseat, falling in and out of sleep. She drove late into the night and when we finally got to the hotel all I managed to do, before drifting off again, was take a hot bath: it hurt like hell, but I had to get Arnie off my back and out of my hair.

This morning, as I went through all of my steps to attempt to look pretty and happy, Callie just looked at me like I was crazy.  I knew it was stupid- trying to keep up the act, but I wasn’t going to let Arnie’s five minute beating ruin the months that I had worked to become Luca’s girl. I wasn’t going to let Arnie take Luca from me.

I shift again in the passenger seat. There isn’t an angle where my back doesn’t press into something. I end up facing Callie with my arm against the seat, my legs curled up underneath me. I take out my list and try to focus. Luca called several times yesterday but I couldn’t talk to him. I have to call him now. I look over my list, listening to Callie mutter, “This is so stupid. He’s going to know something happened, he wants to help you for Christ’s sake.”

I block her out of my mind and close my eyes, picturing the smiling, sweet, toe-headed girl I will be for him. I lock her down and hit the call button.

“Jude?” He picks up before I even hear a ring.

“Hey, Luca.”

“What the hell? Why haven’t you been picking up your damn phone? Are you okay?”

“Yep, I’m fine. Callie drove a little faster and farther then she had planned. We’re in Boise, Idaho so I’ll be there around one.”

“Something’s wrong, Jude. What is it?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Whatever, don’t tell me, that’s fine. Yesterday was perfect too. Is that why you never picked up your phone?”

“I’m sorry. I had been up late packing and I ended up sleeping most of the ride. By the time we got to our hotel both our phones were dead and it was late.”

He’s silent on the other end. I know he doesn’t believe me. I unintentionally look at Callie; she’s shaking her head at me. “I’ll be at your dorm when you get there,” he finally says.

“Okay, see you then.”

“Yep,” he says, hanging up the phone.

“Shit,” I mutter, throwing the phone into my purse.

“When you came up with this plan, I was all for it,” Callie says, her eyes darting between the road and my face. “I thought it would be fun; a project for the two of us, something that we could do together during our last summer. I knew Luca would love you no matter what. I thought you knew that too. I didn’t realize how far you were taking this shit. Since when do you lie to him? Since when don’t you let him help you when you need it? That boy has been by your side through every damn thing. He knows who you are, he knows who that fuck head Arnie is. Why are you trying to pretend for him? How am I supposed to leave you there when the only person you have to love you is someone you won’t be honest with?”

“You don’t get it,” I tell her. “I don’t want him to protect me. Don’t you get how he sees me? He thinks of me as some depressed, confused girl who is constantly on the brink of disaster. He’s had no choice but to look at me otherwise. If he sees me damaged and broken, then all this work that I’ve gone through to be the sunny, put-together girl he wants me to be will be for nothing. I need him to see that I’m fine. That he can’t hurt me. That I’m good for him. I can’t show up there all broken and wounded.”

“This is so messed up,” she mutters, shaking her head.

I turn my eyes from her and back to my list. I practice my smile. I brush my hair. I check my makeup and re-apply my lip gloss. I take some more aspirin and push away the pain. I try to ignore Callie’s tense face. I try to pretend like that last night in my house never happened.

As we pull into campus my butterflies are back, pushing into my stomach like they’re trying to escape. We listen to the monotone voice of Callie’s GPS guide us. When the voice announces that our destination is one hundred feet ahead on the right I feel like I’m going to puke.

Callie finds a spot in the back corner of the crowded lot. She pops her trunk and pulls out my single suitcase. I reach over to grab it from her and she yanks it away from me. “You can’t carry this,” she tells me.

“Callie, I have to. Luca might be there waiting for me. He’ll know something’s wrong if he sees you carrying it.”

“This is so fricking stupid,” she says for what feels like the hundredth time. She slams her trunk shut and sets my suitcase on the ground, pushing the release button for the handle and pulling it out so I can roll it.

I run my hands over my dress before taking the handle. “Do I look okay?” I ask her.

“Yes, you look completely gorgeous and happy,” she tells me before putting her hands on mine. “I’m begging you, Jude, let him help you. Just tell him the truth. It’s not going to make him love you less.”

I look into her pleading eyes and I almost cave. I need his help right now; I want it. But I’ve worked too hard to let Arnie destroy my efforts. “I can’t,” I say, grabbing a hold of the suitcase and making my way towards the brick building in the distance.

I focus on the clicking of my sandals, the crunching sound the wheels of my suitcase are making on the asphalt. I listen as the sound of the wheels becomes muffled by the concrete sidewalk. As Callie and I turn the corner I see him.

I stop in my tracks at the sight. Everything in my body bubbles up with happiness. Oh god, it’s been so long since I’ve seen him. Everything inside of me is telling me to run to him and bury myself in him but somehow I manage to take a few breaths and compose myself.

He’s sitting on the steps of my dorm. His attention is on the phone in his hands. His fingers are unmoving, he’s just staring. I wonder if it’s the picture of me.

My heart starts racing again as I take in his long, strong body and his large hands carefully cradling his phone. The sun shines on his chiseled face. He has cut his black hair; it’s shorter now, I can see the back of his neck. It still manages to look messy though, like he has been raking his fingers through it all morning. I hold tighter to my suitcase.

“Are you okay?” Callie whispers. She’s seen him too; his intimidating beauty.

“No,” I whisper.