18. Jude
The sight of sparkling Pacific waves crested on the horizon of cloudless blue skies, promising a perfect day for the beach. Jude glanced to his right as he pulled into the parking lot beyond the line of golden sands.
He leaned across the center console, fixing the wide brim of Giselle”s sun hat. ”Are you sure you don”t want to stash your hat in the car? We can”t take it on the jet skis.”
”I can leave it with the stuff on the beach.” Giselle brushed her fingers through her hair, twisting strands into a braid. ”We are leaving stuff on the beach, right?”
”Yes. Wait, is that a hint of nervousness I hear?”
”No. . .”
”Are you sure?”
”Okay, I”m a little nervous. I”ve never used a jet ski before.”
Jude swept his eyes over Giselle, hearing the buzzing of jet ski engines speed past with playful beckoning to join them in the water. The tiny curve in her cheek caved inward from how hard Giselle bit down.
He grasped her hand. ”Which is why I planned ahead. I hid a lunch basket in the trunk in case you didn”t want to get on the jet skis.”
”Oh, thank god!” Giselle gasped. Her head slumped back until the hat”s brim eclipsed her face under a slim shadow. ”I could kiss you right now.”
A shiver coiled around the nape of his neck. Jude”s throat bobbed hard, but he said nothing. Thoughts of their whispered conversations in each other arms floated into his mind. Goosebumps formed on his skin at the thought of how warm she felt against him after being stuck in the rain. Not a cheeky comment or a wink escaped him as he parked the car in the empty row where the cracked asphalt met the tall grassy fronds emerging from the sand-dusted ground.
Instead, he lifted the brim of her sun hat and met her eyes, fighting a smile. ”What can I say? I”ve got you all figured out, Giselle.”
”Oh yeah?” Giselle”s eyes crinkled in the corners, sweetly amused by him. ”What am I thinking then?”
”How ready you are for sunshine, sparkling water, and a seaside lunch.”
”You’re good.”
Jude laughed when she did, leaning across the seat to unlock the door for her. But he shook his head. ”Don”t you lift a finger. Let me.”
He skirted around the car and opened her door. Giselle bounced from the passenger”s side, and her wedge sandals crunched on the concrete. Distressed denim cut-offs gripped her thighs, but the fern green of her tank top perfectly brightened her dewy skin and contrasted with her copper waves. The sheen of sunscreen and a hint of sweat coated her in its glow.
Jude”s hand linked their fingers, ignoring the flip in his stomach with how natural their hands pressed together. Jude popped the trunk for the basket with their lunch and the blanket folded on top. He grabbed everything by himself, and then, he and Giselle bolted toward the sand.
They rushed toward the tide rolling in, and their laughter carried high upon the breeze. Brine from the ocean hung heavy in the air, and the distant cry of seagulls echoed as a herd flocked toward the cliffs.
Jude”s eyes wandered up the side, spotting the shining beacon of The Royal Ridge perched gracefully on the edge. From their vantage point, he could see the faint silhouettes of people peppered along the famed hiking trails descending from the Ridge.
Giselle gripped her hat when the breeze pushed hard against their faces, nose wrinkling. ”Where do you want to sit?”
”There should be one of those umbrellas mounted into the sand nearby. Less sunscreen needed in the shade with a good view of the water.”
”You”ve thought of everything, haven”t you?”
”I”d like to think it”s one of my better qualities.”
”That it is. Humility, too.”
Jude snorted while he pulled her onto the paved road instead of shifting sands, wandering down the length of the beach. Like them, several people set up towels on the sand under umbrellas or nothing but the sunny, cloudless sky. Despite the March month making the waters too cold for comfortable swimming, a few brave souls dove into waves.
He and Giselle slowed toward the middle of the road when a tri-colored umbrella bent into his peripheral vision, jostling lightly in the breeze. But with no one underneath its shade, Jude spotted an opportunity.
”Found our spot,” Jude whistled, and the two sped for the umbrella. They laid their claim to the dry sand with the blanket, collapsing into one another like a dilapidated domino chain.
Giselle reached her hands into the basket, wiggling her brows. ”Confession time. Cooked or store-bought?”
”Store-bought. I hope that”s acceptable for your tastes.” Jude counted the turkey club sandwiches, fruit salad, and sparkling peach sodas as Giselle unloaded them onto the blanket, flitting his eyes between her expression and his offering.
”I used to love these!” Giselle gasped, holding up one of the fizzy peach sodas with its long-necked bottle and pink liquid sloshing inside.
”How devastated you were when the cafeteria”s vending machine never restocked them. You walked around like a wilted flower, and the asshole never offered to check the nearby corner store for them.”
”I can’t believe you remember that. I”ll bet James complained to the tennis team as much as he did to our friends.”
”Yes, but the tennis team only had his side of the story, so they took whatever James said at face value.”
Giselle went quiet while she scooped the bottle opener from the bottom of the basket, prying the lid off her drink. The fizzling pops joined the chorus of gulls and the waves hitting the highest point on the sand.
She offered the drink to him, but Jude”s hand gently pried the bottle opener from her. Ladies first, always. He uncapped his own, setting the tool back in the basket and nudging her, seeing her face pointed toward the sand.
Giselle”s eyes fluttered up, twinkling sadly. ”He disliked me for a long time, but I”m only now recognizing it, and we were together for so many years. Isn”t that sad?”
”Giselle, hey.” Jude”s fingers found the underside of her chin, angling her head until she looked him dead in the eyes. ”James acting how he did shouldn”t change how you see yourself. Don”t blame yourself for his bad behavior either.”
”I know you”re right, but I can”t get my thoughts on board. I put up with so much because I couldn”t see what was in front of me the whole time. . . like you.”
”Like me?”
”You and I. We befriended one another, but it”s my fault we drifted. I let James come between us, and no amount of me defending you from him can fix the mistake I made.”
”Giselle. . .”
”Oh, look at me getting all emotional over spilled milk.” Giselle fanned at her eyes like she pleaded for the tears not to come. ”But it”s okay because I have you back, and James hit the road. We”ll hold onto our friendship this time.”
”Friendship, right. Is that a promise?” Jude”s hold on Giselle”s face dropped, fingers brushing against the column of her throat. He pulled back quicker, scorned by the accidental touch like he held his fingers over a flame.
”Absolutely a promise,” Giselle”s mouth pulled into a smile. ”We”re friends for life, even when we stage the nicest break-up known to mankind. I don”t think I could say a mean word about you to anyone.”
”Finding a believable reason for our split is harder than pretending to date in the first place. Watch us never break up,” Jude remarked, taking a swig of the peach soda too sweet for his taste.
Yet, the glowing blush on Giselle”s cheeks as she downed her first taste of the soda she used to adore softened the mouthful of sugar.
”We can”t do that!” Giselle giggled.
”I”m sure a fake marriage isn”t much harder than fake dating. It saves on rent, has tax incentives, and could be fun with a partner in crime,” Jude replied, waving his hand in the air. He held back the urge to laugh at Giselle”s scandalized look.
”We don”t have to think about breaking up, nor should we. We”re at the beach on a lovely picnic you put together, which is worth celebrating! I”m enjoying the best relationship I”ve ever had for as long as possible.”
Those words punched a hole through Jude”s chest. Their charade, being the one relationship Giselle considered fondly, felt wrong. A girl like Giselle deserved the world wrapped in a pretty bow, at minimum.
The wound left behind ached with questions. Why did their lie have to end at all?Couldn”t he take care of her for the rest of her life, so she spent the rest of her days wherever her happiness took her?
But the rational part of him knew better. They needed to end because he promised her; a man of his word never abandoned it, even for his selfish desire.
Jude would never let the past between them, and all the things left unsaid break his promise to her. If nothing else, Giselle deserved someone who unconditionally lived up to their word.
Silently, he lifted his drink into the air, drawing Giselle”s eyes off the waves dampening the sand. She raised her bottle, letting the sun backlight the startlingly bright pink of her soda. Giselle”s head tilted to the side, curiosity sparkling hard like stars in her eyes.
Jude hummed, ”Today isn”t about the past or anyone in it. We”re celebrating ourselves and having a good time today. . . so, to us.”
”To us.” Giselle”s smile, as radiant as the sunshine overhead, brightened Jude”s world. The world shifted into technicolor whenever Giselle”s smile stretched across her glossy, pink lips. ”To all the successes coming our way.”
”Cheers to that.”
”Cheers.”
Jude and Giselle”s eyes met as they mimicked a shot of liquor, downing the sickly-sweet soda. They embraced a comfortable silence when a gaggle of children sprinted by, joyfully screeching at the top of their lungs while chasing a rogue seagull.
When Giselle”s head bumped into his shoulder, Jude refrained from jolting nervously or moving out of her space. His hand settled in the dip in the sand behind her, leaning into Giselle so her head lay closer to the top edge of his shoulder and chest.
”Want to split a sandwich with me?” Jude asked. His voice dipped when a speedboat zoomed by with its boisterous roar, piloted by college-age students with vaguely familiar faces. His hand swept to the small of Giselle”s back, dropping when the boat bounded out of visual range.
“Yes, please,” Giselle said.
Jude broke open the parchment wrapping around the sandwiches, nudging the stack clubs toward Giselle. She grabbed the triple-decker stack with the green toothpick poking out from the top.
”How is it?” Jude watched Giselle sink her teeth into the sandwich, barely pulling out the toothpick before she bit down. A small, amused smile threatened to slip out of him with how ravenously Giselle tore into her lunch, forgoing any small talk and slow bites.
”S”good,” Giselle moaned softly, hand hovering in front of her full mouth. ”Thank you.”
”I figured you”d be hungry if you got sidetracked in the garden this morning.”
Giselle nodded. ”I do all my best thinking in the garden, so I”d been out there since there was light outside.”
”Oh? What were you thinking about?”
”After we talked a while back, I sent out some inquiries to a couple of community colleges in the area. Also, I checked a few online degree programs with flexible schedules. Several of them wrote back and walked me through the application requirements and questions about financial assistance. I”m ready to start applying to them.”
Jude froze, turning to Giselle and the barely restrained hope in her smile. She peered at him, still holding her sandwich, but the pause for his reaction hadn”t escaped his notice.
Jude placed the half-eaten club down with the other untouched ones, barely moving the parchment further down the blanket before he lunged. His arms circled around Giselle and crushed her in a hug.
Her body tucked perfectly into his chest, perching on his lap, but that didn”t stop her from hugging back. Jude set his chin on her shoulder, murmuring, ”That”s amazing. You”re amazing.”
Giselle didn”t realize the gravity of her step or how she grabbed control of her future. It belonged to her and no one else. Despite what she told herself, she was ready to leave the era of James behind for good.
She had moved on.
Once the skies had darkened and the sun vanished below the waves, Jude took his cue to go home. He spent hours with Giselle on the sand, enjoying the sun and the unhurried rush, a perfect precursor to his spring break.
Stepping from his car, Jude”s fingers barely stopped inches from his sunburnt nose, almost grazing his touch across the reddened skin. He locked up and hustled into the house, confronted by the unexpected cold of the night.
He sighed at the warmth from the heater as he waltzed into the living room. Off to his left, his parents congregated on the couches with two glasses of wine and a popcorn bucket sandwiched between them. Their laughter faded when the television switched to a commercial break, filling the living room with the cliché opening script to a life insurance infomercial until his dad muted it.
His mom glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening as she spotted Jude lurking in the foyer. ”I told you to pack an extra bottle of sunscreen, or else you”d be patchy and sunburned for the next few days. But someone thinks he knows better than his mom.”
She wagged her finger, smiling with that knowing expression mastered by moms everywhere, but Jude didn”t have it in him to argue. He approached with the empty picnic basket he borrowed, handing it to her.
”Yes, but I didn”t want to be late to pick up Giselle. We split the bottle, and I gave her the last of it. Didn”t want her to burn,” Jude murmured.
He leaned down, kissing his mom on the forehead. He heard his dad chuckle and shift to turn over his shoulder. ”Ah, that”s true love. How”s Giselle doing?”
”She”s great. We stayed mostly on the beach, but I convinced her to speedboat with me for an hour. She was courageous.”
”Oh, I hope you two had a good lunch. Did you go to Alpine”s Sandwich Shop like I told you? You hadn”t texted back when I asked earlier.”
”Yes, Mom. They were delicious, and she said she had an amazing time. As for why I didn”t answer your texts, I switched off my phone. I didn”t want to get distracted while out with Giselle.”
Jude fished his phone out of his pocket and shook it, the black screen of sleep mode obvious with some movements. He stretched across the loveseat with his whole body, including the dangling of his legs over one arm. He squinted as the white loading screen blinded him.
He dropped his phone onto his chest and closed his eyes, drawn back to the beach with Giselle. His fingers had long since gone cold without hers tangling around his hand. Earlier, she raced with him down the sand, jumping across the damp parts barefoot and narrowly avoiding the tide rushing in.
A smile bubbled to his lips while replaying the memory like the footage of a grainy B-roll. He could slide into that memory and never climb back out, drowning in Giselle”s laughter.
Heavy eyes reluctantly pushed open upon flashes from his peripheral vision, yanked out of the moment. Jude narrowed his gaze at the television, returning to some syndicated game show on cable, rolling over onto his side.
His back faced the television as he snatched his phone up. Dozens of notifications from messages and apps greeted him on the home screen, none more than Giselle”s text sitting at the top of the pile.
GISELLE: *sent an attachment*
GISELLE: I had a great time today. Any chance I can steal you during the week for dinner?
Jude hovered over her message, sold on a yes without thinking too hard, but a delayed message bumped hers down from the top of the pile. He recognized the email of the scholarship office bolded in the header, snapping straight up.
The startled noises from his parents hit his ears, but emotions ran wild in his chest with an almost distracting loudness. He clicked on the email, thrust onto unsteady ground as the screen loaded.
Jude stared at the phone until the email filled his screen, seeing the date in the top right-hand corner, marked for earlier that afternoon.
How timely.
His breath stalled in his chest like an engine failing to start, sputtering, and spinning out as he read the email forwarded to him. The ”thank you for your time” and ”but we regret to inform you” jumped off the page, highlighted straight away.
Jude hadn”t gotten the scholarship. Months of stress and work spun down the drain with a simple letter of rejection, which should have crushed him underneath its overwhelming presence.
He paused, waiting for the sting in his chest synonymous with rejection or disappointment to sink in.
His dad cleared his throat, drawing Jude”s eyes off his phone to the doubly concerned expressions of his parents. ”Jude, you okay over there? You”re making that face you pull when something”s bothering you.”
”Yeah, I”m good.” Jude held up his phone. ”The scholarship office came back. I didn”t get the scholarship.”
”Oh, honey. I”m so sorry!” His mom climbed off the couch in a rush. Jude couldn”t stop her before she pulled him into her arms, awkwardly squished to her chest by her bear hug.
”It”s fine. Really.”
”You worked hard and made it to the final rounds. You”ve accomplished so much at your age.”
”Public speaking and interviewing have never been my best skills. I”m sure they chose someone deserving of the spot.”
His dad scooted closer on the opposite couch, frowning. ”Jude, it”s okay to be disappointed. You don”t have to hide your feelings from us. You”ve been better about that in the last few months.”
”Dad, I”m. . .” Jude trailed off. His thumb had swiped the notification bar down, showing Giselle”s texts back on top. His stomach turned, remembering all their talk of the break-up like they had all the time in the world to decide, only for the final decision to waltz into his inbox hours ago. They ran out of borrowed time; the scholarship deadline came before the summer. ”Actually, I think I need a minute.”
”We”ll give you some space.” His dad gently reached for his mom when Jude stiffened in her arms, prying her off. ”Text us if you need anything.”
”Sure. Thanks. Love you,” Jude remarked, a little too clipped for someone who claimed to be ”fine” moments before. But all at once, the revelation arrived.
His side of the bargain ended with that email, and everything hinged on Giselle. Their fake relationship was officially over when Giselle learned about the scholarship email. She probably didn”t need him anymore.
Jude pushed off the couch and jogged for the stairs, eyes burning at the whispers his parents exchanged. He couldn”t hear their words, but pity never needed talking to be so obvious.
As he climbed the stairs, his chest clenched so tight, and he couldn”t breathe more than a shallow gasp of air. Matching the ache in his chest, his head pulsed with the frantic thump of his heartbeat until he couldn”t hear his thoughts.
Jude hadn”t cried like this since high school. Not since the day he came home from Del Mesa Prep with a wilted bouquet of flowers and a handmade card he threw into the trash, only to fish out hours later to hold while he sobbed. Many years ago, he fell in love, and he hadn”t let himself open up to anyone so boldly.
Except for her—Giselle remained his exception.
Jude managed to open the door to his room and scramble inside. He leaned against the door with his forehead pressed into the wood paneling. He gasped, desperately fighting for control of his body.
”I need to tell her.” Jude squeezed his eyes shut, burdened by the burning of hot tears.
His fingers twitched at the thought of grabbing his keys and driving to her. Could he even pull himself together enough to show up at Giselle”s door and be brave for one last time?
Could he handle her telling him she doesn”t need their charade to continue?
The taste of the word ”charade” violated his senses, a rotten and bitter taste. The sweetness of Giselle”s laughter and the peach soda shared on at the beach vanished into the haze filling his head.
Jude lurched for the bed. Giselle deserved to decide without his interference. As much as he promised not to fall so hard again, he broke his promise. But he wouldn”t break the one he made to her. Never to her.
If Giselle didn”t want him, he needed to face the music. If he never recovered, he had no one to blame but himself. It was never a wise decision to grow so attached to his first love, knowing they”d have to end.