Chapter 1
Drumsticks in hand, Jade left the music shop where she was allowed to play for twenty minutes after the store closed; a generous arrangement, considering the owner had to listen to it. She couldn’t afford her own drum kit, and her neighbors would likely stage a noise complaint before she reached the chorus.
That evening, she was in high creative gear, and inspiration decided to follow her to the bus stop. A man was already there, watching nothing in particular, and Jade decided to ignore him. He was cute, but she tried to hold on to the image forming in her mind, since, naturally, she hadn’t brought paper or pen.
She kept promising herself she’d pack them. But even if she did, finding them in the depths of her purse would be an expedition. It was a miracle of modern storage, containing everything from A for Australian sweets (a souvenir from Hannah’s trip abroad) to Z for zip ties, all arranged in the sort of chaos only Jade could call organized.
"FUCKING CUNT!" the man suddenly yelled.
Jade spun around, ready for a fight that had clearly sent out no invitation. “Excuse me? Fuck you, asshole! What is your fucking problem?”
"CUNT! SLUT!"
“Oh, brilliant,” she snapped. “You’ve got a full vocabulary of vulgarisms. You want to try for a sentence next?”
"FUCK! SHITHEAD! DOG FUCKER! - Sorry, I-”
“Am an asshole? Oh, you so are! You are-”
“I have Tourette’s.” His voice wavered as his head jerked twice to the left. A sharp snap of his hand followed, like punctuation he didn’t ask for. ”HA! HA! FUCK! SHITHEAD!" The annoyance drained from Jade’s face when she caught the panic in his eyes. He hit his chest three times, as if to drive the words out of himself. “I’m - HA! HA! - sorry, really.”
“All good, dude.” She smiled. The poor guy looked like he was waiting for the ground to swallow him whole. His eyes held a panic usually reserved for people who realize their mother-in-law would be moving in. “I swear at people too,” she added. “Just, you know, on purpose.”
He stared at her, clearly trying to compute this alien reaction. “You - HA! - you - FUCK! SHITHEAD!” His fists tightened, then his head jerked again, followed by clicking his tongue several times.
Jade watched him, half‑curious, half‑concerned. He looked like someone trying to pause a sneeze with sheer willpower. She’d seen a TikTok once where a girl with Tourette’s tried to bake. It had ended in chaos and cake batter on the ceiling, but at least it taught her something, so this wasn’t new territory.
“Look, don’t stress.” She grinned. “I’m not mad, okay? Call me whatever word pops up and-”
"NIGGER!"
Jade almost laughed; not at the word, but at the absurdity of the universe choosing that moment to test her poker face. She pressed her lips together, fighting the smirk that wanted out. “Okay,” she managed finally, steady but dry, “I wasn’t expecting that one.” Her eyes swept over him: dark brown hair, brown eyes, suit so wrinkled it looked like it had survived a nap and a nervous breakdown. “Go on, let it out. We’ve got, what,” she checked her watch, “seventeen minutes till the bus? Better now than inside, where you can’t escape.”
"FUCK! SHITHEAD! - I…” He drew in a long breath, eyes squeezed shut.
“You want me to give you suggestions? I collect swear words like lame people stamps. Maybe you can add new ones to your collection. Keeping things interesting.”
“No - HA!" Slowly, his body unclenched: shoulders dropping, hands opening, the tension loosening just enough to let him breathe. “Thank you,” he whispered at last. ”The devil plays peek-a-boo. HA! HA!”
“For what?” Her brow lifted. “For not beating the shit out of after the first insult?”
He chuckled. “That, yeah. Maybe. I - HA! HA! - can… some people don’t understand when - MOTHERFUCKER - they hear me and - I’m gonna fuck your mom!” His jaw locked, teeth gritted like he was trying to bite the words back, while his eyes widened, before his face turned toward the pavement.
“My mom’s dead,” Jade stated matter‑of‑factly. He looked absolutely embarrassed, and she wanted to help him, so she tried to with a joke. “Bit disgusting, but hey, everyone’s got their hobbies.” She dropped onto the bench. “Not gonna judge, buddy. Whatever makes you happy.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, and for a second, Jade thought he was bracing for another tic. But no; he was holding back laughter. When he finally looked up, his eyes had a bright, startled light in them. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he managed, echoing her earlier words.
She tapped the seat beside her. “Would’ve been weird if you did.”
He sat, still laugh‑snorting under his breath, until his leg jerked three times and his fingers snapped in quick succession. “I’m - HA! - really sorry.”
“You’ve already apologized more times than my ex, and he cheated on me,” Jade declared, grinning. “No more apologies, okay? I’ve heard about Tourette’s. I know you don’t do that on purpose.”
“No.” He sighed, shaking his head, then blinking hard. “The more stressed I - HA! - am, the more tics come - FUCK YOU!"
“I don’t bite. And I’ll see it positively - maybe I’m gonna learn a few new words that I can hurl at Karen’s in the grocery store who stare at me and scoff.”
“Win-win,” he chuckled, glancing sideways. First at her blue hair, pulled into something that barely qualified as a bun, then at her face: pale, green eyes, freckles, and an ear that looked like it had lost a bar fight with a jewelry stand. His gaze flicked down to her worn-out shoes before rising back up. “I’m Aidan.”
“Jade.”
"Fuck you! CUNT!" He blinked, grimaced, then managed a crooked smile. “Nice to meet you.” Thumping his chest twice, he nodded toward the drumsticks in her hand. “You play drums?”
“Not really.” Jade let out a long, theatrical sigh. “I can keep a rhythm, but I barely get the time. No kit of my own either, which doesn’t exactly help.” Her eyes landed on the odd little charm dangling from his bag. “Wait, is that an Excel spreadsheet in resin?” She laughed. “That’s… impressively nerdy.”
Aidan gave a sheepish nod. “Yeah. My sister made it for me. First day on the job gift. And somehow… it just stayed.” His face twitched; the word tore out of him, ”CUNT!” He managed a wry half‑smile. “I still have it, after seven years.”
“That’s cute,” Jade murmured. “So what do you actually do?”
“I’m-” His head jerked sharply to the side, followed by a snap of his fingers and three quick thumps of his fist against his chest. He took a steadying breath before continuing. “I’m a data analyst. I work at my dad’s company.”
“Ah, so you like order,” Jade teased, the corner of her mouth twitching.
“Yes. And you?”
“Oh, I don’t. Well, I do, in theory. But in practice? I’m a walking cautionary tale. Embrace the chaos: it’s cheaper than therapy.”
He chuckled, then blinked three times as another tic caught him mid‑breath. ”HA! The devil plays peek-a-boo. HA! HA! - I mean, what do you do for a living?”
“Right.” She grinned. “I’m a tattoo artist. Got a tiny studio tucked behind Abbey Road. Very glamorous if you ignore the plumbing.” She gestured confidently to her right.
Aidan pointed the other way without missing a beat. “It’s more that way. CUNT!"
“Well, I never. Guess I’m navigationally challenged,” Jade admitted with a shrug. She checked her watch again and squinted up at the sky. It was the first properly warm day of spring, and she needed to get rid of the energy that was coursing through her veins. “Would you… Maybe want to walk one stop?”
He blinked, apparently not expecting the invitation. “Uhm… sure!”
They fell into step, her scuffed Chucks keeping pace with his slightly overqualified Armani shoes. After half a block, Jade stopped, closed her eyes, and inhaled dramatically. “Fuuuuuck,” she muttered. “Do you smell that?”
“Smells like heaven,” he agreed, sniffing the air as if confirming data.
When she opened her eyes, he was standing right in front of her, closer than expected. “Hungry?” she asked. “Come on; best pasta in the city. Statistically proven. I’ve been here about a year ago on a horrible date, long story, anyway - Luigi’s pasta is phenomenal!”
“Are you making this up?” Aidan eyed her suspiciously. “Maybe you just want me - DOG FUCKER!,” his head jerked three times to the right, “to go in there and I’m never gonna see the sunlight again.”
“You caught me,” Jade replied, perfectly deadpan, brushing her hand along his arm. “Luigi’s always on the lookout for fresh meat. He pays thirty bucks a pound.”
“Terrible rate,” Aidan countered with a smile. “You could get a lot more.”
That earned him a raised brow. “So what, thirty‑five?”
“Negotiate to forty. That way, you can get your drum kit with me - MOTHERFUCKER!"
“Hmm.” Jade tapped a finger against her lip, then broke into a grin. “You’re right. Come on, I’m buying. You absolutely have to try Luigi’s lasagna, it’s basically a religious experience.”
Before Aidan could argue, she had him halfway to the door, propelled by sheer determination and hunger. But just as her hand reached for the handle, he halted, mid‑stride.
“Wait, seriously, seriously, I - DOG FUCKER! CUNT! - I…” His eyes blinked rapidly; his fist clenched; fingers snapped like punctuation marks fighting for space. ”HA! - I - HA! - Maybe - HA! MOTHERFUCKER!"
Jade didn’t flinch. She looked more like someone waiting for an elevator that was taking too long. Then she pushed open the door and announced dryly into the nearly empty restaurant, “Hey, anyone around?”
A moment later, Luigi himself appeared from behind the counter; short, sturdy, smiling, vaguely suspicious. Jade gestured toward Aidan as if introducing a guest speaker. “Hi. This guy here’s got Tourette’s. He sometimes swears at everyone - You, your mom, your goat, the neighbor’s cat. Can we still eat here?”
For a moment, the small man simply stared at them. The silence stretched just long enough for Aidan to unravel. ”I’m gonna fuck your mom! Bullshit!" he blurted, thumping his chest three times for emphasis, then jerking his head to the right. ”Your mother’s a whore! Ha! Motherfucker! The devil plays peek-a-boo. HA! HA!"
The panic in his eyes was unmistakable. Jade stepped in smoothly, laying a steady hand on the Italian’s shoulder. “He can’t help it,” she explained. “Unlike me, he doesn’t curse on purpose.”
Luigi blinked, then nodded slowly, the gears turning behind his good‑natured face. “Si, si, is all right. Come on in. I make lasagna.” He wagged a finger toward Aidan. “But don’t curse cook’s mother, eh? He take very personally.” His laughter erupted, rich and infectious. “Giacomo is mama’s boy. Never married. Guess why?” His arm stretched out, gesturing for them to walk in. “But I have not told, so you like garlic bread? What about Mozzarella, eh?”
Jade grinned and motioned for Aidan to follow. “And now, prepare for the best pasta in this fucking town.”
He needed a second to understand that this wasn’t a dream, no, this woman, who handled his Tourette’s better than most of his family members, was real.
Terribly real, and terribly cute.
So with a swearword and a sigh, he followed her inside.
Three hours and the world’s undisputed best lasagna later, they stepped back out into the now chilly night air. “Now that was a lasagna worth writing home about,” Jade laughed, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets as they headed back toward the bus stop.
“Yeah, it was incredible,” Aidan agreed. His shoulders had eased, his movements calm for the first time in hours. The tics had gone silent; ten whole minutes of peace now, though he knew better than to celebrate. They always came back, usually when strangers were around to notice.
He hated it. The stares, the whispers, the pity disguised as politeness. What hurt the most were parents pulling their children away or covering their ears. And currently, on his commute to work and back home, it happened every goddamn day.
It was over with driving; one tic too many had kissed his car against a tree a few weeks ago. Nobody was hurt, but the fear that next time someone might be was enough for him to hand in his license at just twenty‑six.
Jade skipped a step ahead, walking backward now to face him. “You don’t go out much, huh?” she asked. He shook his head. “Why not? ”
"FUCK YOU!” His head jerked three times to the right before he exhaled sharply.
“It was just a question,” she teased with a smirk.
“Many don’t understand - HA! - and then come - HA! - the constant stares.”
“Humans are ignorant assholes!”
Aidan slowed as the bus stop came into view. “You’re a human too,” he muttered, eyes fixed somewhere on the pavement.
“Maybe.” A crooked smile appeared on her face. “But I’m hardly normal.” With a little spin, she came to a stop beside him. “People stare at me all the time. You just have to master the fine art of not giving a single goddamn fuck.”
“You have a - HA! HA! - self‑chosen destiny,” he said quietly. “I don’t.”
Her eyes softened for a moment, and Jade felt an unexpected pang of pity twist in her chest. He wasn’t wrong; she had chosen every oddity that made her stand out, while his had been handed to him by whatever cosmic intern was in charge of neurological glitches that day.
“Hey, uhm… would you maybe want to go out to dinner again sometime soon?” she asked, characteristically blunt. “Maybe sort of... a date?”
“But... I have… Tourette’s!”
“Shit,” she breathed, putting a hand to her heart in mock horror. “And here I was thinking you just spoke my language.” A quick wink took the edge off the words. “Not an excuse. If you’ve got a girlfriend, that’s one. Or if you’re, I don’t know, a secret reptilian overlord. Or you sacrifice goats and dance around a fire to impress some senseless god, that would also be a decent reason.”
His smile widened, the sadness in his eyes giving way to something brighter. “No girlfriend - HA! - no - HA! - lizard person, and…” He patted his chest three times, his head jerking and fingers snapping four times in rapid succession. “No goats.”
“No?” Jade tilted her head. “You sacrificing something else? What is it? Guinea pigs? Cats? Snakes?”
He burst out laughing, properly this time. “No.” Aidan met her gaze directly. “I would… very much like to - HA! - go out to dinner with you again - FUCKING CUNT! ASSHOLE! HA! HA!"
“In a restaurant?”
He blinked hard; his neck stiffened as his fingers curled into a fist. “In this one - HA! - if you like.”
She got it immediately. He’d tested the waters there already, and Luigi’s place had passed with flying colors. The little Italian had been nothing but welcoming. Okay, there might have been one or two raised eyebrows at heavy curses, but later, he had given them Semifreddo for free. Brought with a wink, and some Italian talking about amore.
“Perfect,” she replied. “The lasagna was life‑changing, but I’m ready to tackle the full menu. Those cannelloni sounded like they could fix a bad week.”
Aidan nodded three times, enthusiasm overriding the nerves. “Okay, when - DOGFUCKER - would it work for you?”
Their eyes locked, and for a split second, Jade felt her usual composure wobble, like the universe had decided to throw her a curveball. “How about tomorrow?” she breathed.
“Same time? At the bus stop?” His fingers snapped once, punctuating the question or summoning an answer.
“I’ll be there.”
