Page 19 of Someone Just Like You

Yogi! My spirits lifted. With all my misgivings about Jude, I’d forgotten about the doggie.

My doorbell rang. “It’s Yogi!” a voice called out.

I opened the door to find Jude in cargo shorts and a dark gray t-shirt. In contrast to my jitters over this get-together, his relaxed posture and soft features had the air of someone who’d practiced the look in the mirror.

He went to loosen Yogi’s leash, but hesitated. “Do you mind if he runs free?”

I waved him off. “Of course not. Come in.”

Jude tugged on his Yankees baseball cap. “So, this is Molly’s place.”

I followed his line of vision and tried to see my home through his eyes. My mom was the decorator—I just paid the bills—but I’d approved all her selections, including my beige fabric sofa, weathered gray pine coffee table, light blue faux fur oval rug, white office desk, and collection of bright floral watercolor paintings hanging along the wall. “What do you think?” It was an impulse question, but I might as well have invited him to insult me. The pain in my palms where my fingers dug in had me seeing stars.

“It’s very…um…tidy. You make your bed every day?”

“Of course.” Then I followed it up with another dumb query. “You don’t?”

He answered nonverbally with a “Yeah, right” expression. “My parents used your childhood bedroom as an example of what mineshouldlook like. In other words…clean.” He shook his head. “You were such a delightful, well-behaved child, weren’t you?”

In other words, I was a goody-goody kiss-ass.Mollyanna. “And you were Rosemary’s Baby.”

Jude’s lips quirked. “Nah. I was Groot. I made a mess. I danced. I was moody. I rebelled. I was your typical teenager.” He leaned forward and swiped his finger along the surface of my desk. “No dust,” he said, waving it at me. “Impressive.”

I placed my hands on my hips. “Are you suggesting I wasatypical? By whose definition?” Yogi danced at my feet with a hairband in his mouth. “Is that mine?” I looked at Jude questioningly. Where had he gotten it? They’d been here less than two minutes.

“Yogi Berra, drop it now!”

The dog whined and cocked his head at us.

“It’s okay. I don’t want it anymore.” I laughed as Yogi ran circles around us.

“He has a thing for hairbands…has accrued quite the colorful collection at home. Haven’t you, buddy?” Jude said, pulling on the red band in Yogi’s mouth in a dog vs. man game of tug-of-war.

“You and your roommates wear your hair up often, do you?” I joked. Jude lived with two guys. When it hit me Yogi likely stole the accessories from the women they brought home, I felt myself blush.

Probably thinking the same thing, Jude did too. “Anyway. Sorry.”

“No biggie.” I sat on the couch. “Sit.” Assuming the invitation was for him, Yogi jumped onto my lap.

“But you weren’t nearly as chaste as you let on to your parents, were you?” Jude said, joining me on the opposite side of the couch and continuing our earlier conversation.

I eyed him suspiciously. “Is there a point to this line of questioning, and if so, can you give me an ETA, please?”

“I’m just saying…I was there when you barfed on Sanjeev’s expensive rug after drinking—”

“I don’t need a reminder of your presence,” I said, referring to Jude catching the incident on video to use against me later. I curbed my residual anger, finding it not as challenging as it used to be, maybe because Jude getting me punished for my first (and only) offense when he got away witheverythingwas what had spurred my anger and led to the biggest regret of my life.

He winced before carrying on his speech as planned. “I was also in attendance when you finished off all of Erica’s French onion dip with your fingers after smoking weed. And I was under the same roof when you gave Seth…” He coughed. “Dated Seth. My point being teenage Mollyanna dabbled in her share of alcohol, drugs, and sexual experimentation.”

I buried my heated face into Yogi’s curly apricot-colored fur and silently cursed Jude’s long memory. His teammate Seth was the recipient of my first blow job. The possibility…probability…certainty…that Jude possessed this information made me want to dig a hole to China. “Thank you for the walk down memory lane. So nice of you to keep track of my debauchery.”

“We hung out in the same crowd and went to the same parties. Remember?”

At least the second half of that statement was accurate. My friends were more academic than Jude’s,but we were well liked and attended most of the more popular students’ parties. “If you knew I was atypicalteenager, why’d you ask?” I lifted Yogi off me, stood, and walked to the kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“Just making conversation. Although I’m surprised you engaged in such rebellious activities at the risk of getting caught and blemishing your model-child persona at home.”

Not realizing he’d followed me, I jolted at the feel of his breath on my neck. “Teenage hormones are a powerful thing,Rude,” I said with my head in the fridge.

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