Page 13 of Someday Not Soon

And I have absolutely no right to feel that way.

Not after what happened between us.

Chapter Seven

Ella

Past

Jude has turnedfrom the unexpected acquaintance that saved me from an embarrassing date, to the person I can’t picture living without. Over the last several weeks of living in the same house, and with Madi practically living at her boyfriend’s house, Jude and I have become inseparable. It feels like we’re living in our own little world, as he’s quickly become the person that understands me better than anyone. And I’m beginning to find it increasingly difficult to keep my feelings for him separate from our friendship.

It’s still a mystery to me why someone like him would enjoy being around someone like me. The only thing men typically try to get out of me is sex, but he hasn’t even come close to crossing that line. So far, our friendship has been completely platonic.

We’re similar in many ways, but there are also glaringly obvious differences as well. He’s a perfectionist that probably has a highly detailed PowerPoint presentation prepared for every aspect of his life. While I’m me. The newly twenty-one year old woman that’s been long-term crashing at her friend’s house in order to run away from her own family problems. I have zero life plans. No fancy college degree, or purpose or skills at anything worthwhile.

Pilates. Doing and teaching Pilates is the only thing that feels right, and that I’m certain I’m good at. But I know it’s not a career, or one that I can pull off at least. I can’t pay the bills making minimum wage as a part-time Pilates teacher.

Hard and simple, I’m floundering.

Most days, my skin crawls with that impending doom eating me alive from the inside out. The only times the clouds of that darkness are parted are when I’m down on the mat teaching and when I’m with Jude.

Funnily enough, both of those things are only temporary. He’ll be leaving in two months time and this part-time job can’t sustain me forever. It’s like life has decided to show me the best summer of life, only to snatch it right back as soon as I feel like I’ve caught my breath.

Tonight, we’re out bar hopping to celebrate Delaney’s birthday. I volunteered to be the designated driver, since most of the time drinking alcohol only seems to heighten my anxiety. After stopping for greasy pizza slices the size of our heads, we end up at a rickety dive bar. There’s a Foo Fighters tribute band playing, andquestionable barbecue meals for sale off a half-door down the hall.

Madi has disappeared to god knows where. Delaney keeps running off and making out with much older men. While I sip on my soda water and lime, listening to the band, Jude comes to sit beside me with a grease-soaked barbecue platter. He slides it between us with a playful look in his eyes.

I stare at it like he’s offering me a can of cat food. “You sure about this? That thing has salmonella written all over it.”

“You know you want some,” he replies, nudging my elbow.

“I’m not that brave.” I grab a fry from his plate. “But fries can’t be too dangerous.”

I watch him sniff a forkful of shredded meat, before making some internal decision and shoving it in his mouth.

“What kind of meat is that?” I ask.

“It’s a mystery.”

“Very cryptic. But really, what kind?”

“I’m serious. The guy told me it was ‘mystery’ meat.”

“You really shouldn’t eat something called mystery meat from a bar like this.” I playfully slap his bicep. Of course, it’s no surprise that it’s rock solid when my fingers graze the muscle. “Besides, how the hell is that clean freak side of your brain not forbidding you from eating that?”

For a moment he grimaces, really taking in the sloppy plate of food before him. Then he shrugs. “Tonight I’m choosing to live in blissful drunken oblivion.” He holds aforkful of barbecue sauce slathered meat out towards me. “I dare you to take a bite.”

I’m laughing, debating, if I should risk my life eating a bite of horrid meat just to make him laugh. But my deliberation is interrupted when an empty glass is placed in front of me, as a silver-haired bartender fills it with soda water and a wedge of lime. The bartender gestures to my right, informing me the person at the end of the bar bought it for me. When I glance over, a tattooed man with a buzz cut waves and gives me a flirty smile. He’s attractive in that gym rat, MMA fighter wannabe way. Politely, I smile back and tip my glass his way as a thank you. I have no idea what the hell to do in these situations. I’m the most socially inept person I know. What I also don’t expect is for him to start heading in my direction.

“Shit,” I mutter.

Jude has seen the whole exchange take place and has the trace of a frown tugging down at the corners of his lips.

“Save me. Do something,” I frantically whisper, right as the MMA lookalike comes over.

The man has a grin like a Cheshire Cat as he walks up. “Hey, what’s up? I’m Adam.”

“Hi, Adam. Thank you for the drink. I appreciate it.” I lift my drink to clink his awaiting outstretched glass.

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