The Family Affair

I graduated with honors. And four months later, I spent all my time at the university library. Being an overachiever guaranteed certain perks, like my mom’s unending trust, but also damned me to be labeled a know-it-all until they shoveled dirt over my casket.

Although, I would prefer to be cremated and processed into a tree sapling because it’s better for the environment. But I had a lot of time (hopefully) to construct my will.

I had been preparing for an exam, the first of many, with little attention dedicated to the material. I wanted to be anywhere but at home. That didn’t mean I wasn’t exhausted.

I considered giving in, shutting my study guide, and facing the inevitable, but then I heard heavy footsteps. I looked up from my textbook, my highlighters, and pens scattered across the table. And there he was.

Jude was an acquaintance, barely. Despite my attempts to swap courses, we still shared a class.

“You’re still here?” he asked, making fun of me for caring about my future. His dark brown eyes and dimpled smile were enough to derail my focus.

“Yeah,” I said. “Not all of us are here to kill time.”

He smirked, taking the seat in front of me and running his fingers through his messy hair. “You’re kind of cute when you’re stressed.”

I scoffed. “Just cute?” I shouldn’t have entertained his flirting. It was inappropriate, to say the least.

“It’s the ultimate compliment,” he said, leaning back in his chair, watching my expression twist.

“How so?”

“Anybody can be hot, and pretty is something your grandma calls you on Easter, but the way you scrunch your nose at me and act like you don’t care if I’m here, now that’s adorable.”

“Uh huh,” I said, pursing my lips. “What do you want?”

Jude leaned forward in his chair, causing my stomach to drop. “To talk to you.”

“Not today,” I said, flipping through my notebook and trying to look busier than I was. “I have a test to study for, and if it were up to you, I’d flunk out.”

“Right,” he said before taking my textbook off the table. My notes fell to the side as collateral damage. “But how are you going to study without this?”

“What the hell?” I asked, a little too loud. I eyed the students surrounding us. They lifted their heads from their studies and rolled their eyes when they saw me sitting there.

It was embarrassing, really, being seen with him, but he wouldn’t stop coming around, and unfortunately, I was easy to find.

“Want this back?” he asked, wiggling the textbook. “You know where to find me.”

He turned on his heel and left me sitting at the table, my jaw clenched.

Fuck this guy, I thought, gathering my things and stuffing them into my bookbag without concern for the mess. I had told him there was no point in talking, no reason to chase me down and force a discussion, but he insisted.

My stomach churned with the type of butterflies I got in elementary school, a sick, delirious feeling that settled over my body whenever Evan Meyer was close. But Jude wasn’t in the same category as a childhood crush.

I didn’t have time to waste with him. But he had made it his mission to get my attention. Like when he dragged his fingers over my hand when he grabbed a pencil in class or sat closer to me than he should.

I didn’t know why, but Jude was obsessed with me. So when I chased him down to one of the study rooms, enclosed by makeshift doors that the university foolishly provided, I stayed by the door. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I said, more than irritated, furious.

“Me?” he asked. “You’re the one who chased me in here.”

“You have my book.”

“Technically, it’s the library’s book,” he said, dropping the textbook onto the table and waiting by the back wall.

“You know what I mean,” I said.

He crossed his arms. “Well, if you want it so bad, come and get it.”

“Jude, this isn’t funny.”

“Why are you so afraid of me?” he asked, his lips twitching. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to,” I quipped.

His eyes widened with fake surprise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“All you ever do is try to get in my pants,” I said, deciding that it was too late to back down.

“Oh, really?”

“I’m a lot of things, Jude, but I’m not an idiot.”

He nodded. “So then you would know that if I wanted to be in your pants, I already would be.”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his commentary. “Just give me back my textbook.”

“I told you, you can come and get it.”

“Well, I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Afraid I’ll grab you?”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not.” I wasn’t afraid that he’d grab me; I was afraid that if I moved any closer, the sick feeling in my stomach would worsen, intensifying until it was something resembling attraction, and I couldn’t have that.

“See, it’s cute when you’re scared,” he said, watching my cheeks flush. “It’s cute that you’re scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” I said curtly. “I just don’t like you.”

He smiled. “See, I don’t think that’s true, and if you weren’t scared of me, you’d already have gotten your book by now. So which is it?”

I narrowed my eyes and did the only thing I could do: step forward to claim my things and hightail it out of the room. But of course, it wasn’t that simple; it was never that simple. Jude waited by the wall, unmoving, as I snatched the book off the table and clutched it to my chest.

“Good job. You sure showed me.” He sighed wistfully. “But it doesn’t change the fact you still accuse me of being interested in you.”

“Whatever,” I said, starting to turn away and leave the study room. I didn’t like Jude, and I also couldn’t trust him.

“Hold on,” he said, stopping me before I could run away. “I gave you a chance to clear your name. Now, why don’t you give me a chance to clear mine?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jude’s eyes darkened. “You think I like you?”

I nodded, hesitantly. He was up to something.

“You think I just want to get in your pants?” My lips tightened. “Well, I just think you should know,” he stepped forward. “That I know you have a crush on me.” I frowned, opening my mouth to say something in my defense, but he cut me off. “Don’t worry, it’s okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not going to touch you, not until you ask me to.”

I stared at him, my eyes glaring into his. “Can I leave now?”

“Sure,” he said, plenty pleased with himself. “I’ll see you at home.”