It did not make sense.
I thought about organizing a feminist rally, but I hated to admit that most of the female population of this school was fascinated by the resident bad boy.
But that was only because they didn’t know just how truly bad he was.
There was an acceptable amount of rebel that every girl sat at attention to. And then there was the pure evil abomination that was Jude Michaels.
Ok, and maybe I hadn’t exactly gotten over his betrayal yet.
Nor would I ever.
“Stella, this is a serious question. I get that your panties are in a bunch over the whole handing you over to my boss thing, but this is more important than your poor, baby feelings.”
“I’m going to stab you,” I warned dryly. Pulling my butterfly knife from the inside of my knee high brown boots, I flipped it casually in my hands.
I felt more than heard Jude suck in a deep breath of nicotine and then hold it. Slowly he let it out and it puffed in front of me in perfect rings of smoke. “Big plans for the summer?” he asked, ignoring my threat.
“What do you want,” I sighed, resigned that he wasn’t going to leave until he got it.
“Just checking in,” I heard the grin in his voice even though I didn’t turn to look at him. “You know, doing my job.”
“I’m fine. You see that. Now be gone,” I growled.
“This is going to be such a fun summer.” He was laughing now. He bent his head closer to mine and lowered his voice. “I can’t wait to spend it with you.”
“What do you mean, spend it with me?” I demanded, finally spinning to face him.
He was wearing a smug smirk and a few days’ worth of beard growth, that didn’t seem fair to the other high school boys. His hair was more disheveled than usual and he looked shockingly skinnier. I told myself I didn’t care though. I didn’t care what happened to Jude, or why he looked a little crazed. I didn’t care that his eyes were red-rimmed and that they were drawn tight even while he wore a smirk, as if he were hiding some emotion behind a curtain of nonchalance.
“Well, there’s run club,” he started ticking off his list while he held onto his diminishing cigarette. “That will be fun, yeah? Then there’s that basketball camp for the little guys that we’re both helping at…”
“You don’t play basketball!” I half-shouted, realizing what he was doing to me.
“And then I hear a rumor that we’re going to be working together all summer long.”
“Oh, no,” I groaned. “At least I can fix that. Mr. Shields will fire you for me.” It was a tradition to work for Tristan’s dad all summer long. He hired all the high school kids he could- cheap labor- and we hung out on Tristan’s farm and spent the long summer hours being slaves to manual labor, getting farmer tans and drinking gallons of homemade lemonade. It was one of my most favorite things. And while Tristan and I were in an awkward place right now, I knew we would get out of it eventually.
This was my last true summer with him, I wasn’t giving that up.
And I wasn’t going to let Jude’s negative, horrible presence taint it.
“Sure, you do that,” he grinned at me, making me feel like I could not actually do that.
I could. Tristan’s dad would listen to me. I wasn’t above making up reasons, but only because I couldn’t actually say the real reasons I wanted him nowhere near Tristan or his family.
“I will,” I sniffed. I picked up my backpack and hefted it onto my back. Without using my Light the backpack was heavy enough that I almost tipped backward but I regained control of my body and glared at Jude whose lips were twitching with the effort not to laugh at me.
“Need help?” he teased.
I hated that. I hated that his eyes twinkled and that he acted like he knew me. I hated that he was tormenting me with his presence and stalking me because he claimed he had to. I hated that he represented a world I wanted to destroy. And that he was a direct link to all of my enemies.
But most of all I hated that if I had to deal with one Fallen on a daily basis, that it wasn’t Seth that I got to deal with. I hated that it was Jude and not Seth.
I just hated him. I glanced around the hallway and when I saw that nobody was looking at me, I took my butterfly knife, flipped it open, tossed it in the air, caught it on the handle and then jammed it into Jude’s thigh.
He lurched forward with a hissing breath and then choked on the nub of a cigarette still dangling from his lips. His hands immediately flew to the knife to try to wiggle it out of his too skinny thigh. I watched him for a few disturbing moments and then turned to walk away.
Over my shoulder I threw, “That’s for being so f-ing annoying, you twisted bastard.”
His chuckle chased me down the hallway and skittered over my skin, “God, you’re mouthy.”
I chose to ignore him and hoped nobody saw my school-stabbing. Last day or not, I was pretty sure that would have some lasting consequences.
“Hey,” I smiled at Tristan, Rigley and Lincoln as I approached.
They all greeted with grunting responses.
Lincoln flicked his head to get his long blonde bangs out of his eyes and asked, “Have you seen Piper?”
“Mrs. Sandler caught her in that ridiculous shirt and made her go to the office.”
“It’s about time,” Lincoln groaned. He ran a hand through his hair and then blushed when we were all staring at him.
“I thought it was awesome,” Rigley grinned. “Pretty sure it motivated me to go out for the wrestling team next year.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “You’re such a pig, Rigley.”
“Only parts of me, Stella.”
“You should probably work on those parts.” I raised my eyebrows suggestively.
“You know, I might be motivated to change those parts of me, if they weren’t absolutely essential to getting laid.” His grin turned wicked.
Before I could say something else scathing or slap him, Lincoln interrupted. “Well, I’m off to break Piper out of secretary-jail. See you guys at the bonfire later.”
And the summer activities were already in full swing.
“I’m coming with you,” Rigley chased after Lincoln.
Tristan and I watched them walk away while Lincoln said, “Dude, if you stare at my girlfriend and her stupid shirt for longer than three seconds I’m canceling the party. Keep your eyes up.”
“They are ridiculous,” Tristan laughed, drowning out Rigley’s offended reply.
We watched them disappear down the hall and then stood there silently for a few more minutes. Eventually, I turned to Tristan and willed him to meet my eyes.
After several long moments he turned to face me and I could finally look into those familiar green eyes of his. And in them reflected the heartbreak he was suffering, but also something stronger- something that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with him getting on with his life.
I ignored the pang in my chest and made a genuine effort to feel happy for him.
“Walk me to my car?” I asked.
“Sure,” he smiled. “Want me to take your backpack? It looks heavier than you.”
“It is,” I groaned. “But it’s alright. I got it.”
Tristan didn’t say anything after that and we walked to my mom’s Malibu, that I was still borrowing, in silence. We didn’t even touch, no bumping elbows, no brushing arms, nothing. Just two friends walking in awkward, terribly uncomfortable, heavy silence.
“Are you going to Lincoln’s later?” I asked after I deposited my backpack in the backseat.
He stared out over my head for a long moment, rubbing one hand over his shaved head. “Yeah, I think so.” He hesitated before asking, “Are you?”