"One hotdog, please." The dark-skinned man behind the counter stands from his chair and approaches her. He's tall and slim, and his dark hair is neatly combed and gelled like Elvis'.

"You need condiments," he asks, his southern accent overpowering his Arabic one. Judith hums indecisively, and he taps his fingers against the counter.

"Chili and ketchup would be fine," she finally says. The bell above the door chimes as Jerome walks in with his friends in tow, and she veers her head to watch them make a beeline for the arcade machine.

"Twenty cents." After a pause, he clears his throat, and she looks at him again with her mouth slightly open. His hand is lying on the counter with his palm facing upward, and she stares at the silver ring around his marriage finger.

"Oh, sorry! Um, how much?" She shoves her hands into her pockets, and he huffs his annoyance, gazing at the ceiling. He repeats the amount, and she sits a quarter in his palm, watching his fingers close around it before bringing it to the cash register.

"Seven minutes," he says, turning his back to her after dropping the money with the rest. As he departs to the door beside the lottery tickets and cigarettes behind the register, she turns at an angle with her elbows against the counter.

She watches the screen glow against the strong stream of sunlight pouring through the windows, then walks around the side of the building toward them.

As usual, Jerome's behind the joystick, shifting it and tapping the button with a concentrated stare. Khalíd darts his eyes to her and kisses his teeth. Manuel follows his gaze, but he looks at her from her afro to her black flats.

"Hey, 'Rome. Lolita's back," Manuel says. She stands behind Jerome and crosses her arms, scowling at the back of his head. "And she's fuming."

"Didn't you tell this bug-eyed bitch to leave you alone," Khalíd asks him under his breath, but before Jerome can correct him, Judith shoves between him and Eric.

"Fuck you, Eraserhead," she yells at Khalíd, and Jerome grits his teeth while leaning his head away. Judith turns her anger to Manuel as the Space Jungle music fills the space around them. "And you, Tattoo!"

"What'd she call me," Manuel whispers his question to Khalíd with furrowed eyebrows, and he scoffs.

"I think she's talking about that short guy from Fantasy Island. You know - The plane, the plane," he answers in a grizzly voice, and after narrowing his eyes in thought, Manuel chuckles.

"Oh, so she finally decided to stop bitching and work on her insults. I respect it." He shrugs, pouting his lip, and she blinks toward Jerome.

"I need to talk to you." She waits for a response, and when he clenches his lip between his teeth - not listening to her - she rolls her eyes.

They watch Judith take his left hand and shove the joystick forward. His eyes grow wide as a small asteroid collides onto his aircraft, and he swats her hand away to grab the sides of the box like a face cupped in his palms. She takes a step back as he groans over his loss, then she cracks a smile when he veers his scrunched expression toward her.

"What - is wrong with you," he asks, his nostrils flaring with his huff. His friends watch him approach her, then they share a glance in anticipation of a fight.

"Take a chill pill, 'Rome, it's just a game," Judith taunts him, sitting her hands on her hips. Manuel snickers, and Khalíd glances at the flickering screen, waiting for three letters.

"Give me a quarter," Jerome demands, and she blinks her head back, scanning him from dreads to loafers.

"No." She smiles at him. "Besides, maybe you deserve it. You're a fucking liar."

"Man, here we go with this shit," Eric mumbles, shaking his head with his empty hazel eyes on Khalíd, who's rolling his.

"I wish he'd just ditch her jive-ass," Khalíd says before stepping in front of the machine.

Jerome lifts his chin to look past the top of her head, and monotonously, he asks, "What'd I do this time?"

"You went and fucked someone else after you promised you wouldn't give up on me and after you accused me of fucking David!" Judith's hands form fists at her sides, and he narrows his eyes at her.

"What're you talking about right now?" She looks him up and down with disgust when she notices his confusion.

"Remember when I came to your dorm one night, and those guys - you took me to your room and let me sleep through the storm, then you left me there with him?" She points to Khalíd, and Jerome follows her finger. As he watches his friend play the game, she retracts her arm. He nods at her, his expression not faltering. "The girl you left to see that day, was she the one you slept with two nights ago?"

"Are you talking about Alyssa?" She shrugs at his question, her left eyebrow jumping simultaneously. "I haven't seen her since then. She's just a friend, Judy."

"Yeah, right," she says over a chuckle, darting her eyes to the glass window beside them. "That's what they all say. I can't believe I trusted you. You're no better than David. If anything, you're worse because at least he had the decency to tell me who he's fucking!"

"Did he really?" Jerome calmly asks, and she glares at him with her mouth partially open. "Because last I checked, you didn't even know about him and Mary. In fact, like a dragon, you breathed down my neck about them like you're doing now about something I don't know."

"Who was the bitch you rode away with two nights ago, and don't lie to me, I know what the fuck I saw." He squints his eyes in thought, and she scoffs, then shoves her hands into his chest. He rocks on the heels of his shoes, and the thump her palms make against his torso draws his friends' attention. "You're unbelievable! What the fuck is wrong with you men?"

"What are you talking about," he stresses, clenching then relaxing his hands between them. "The only girl I left with two nights ago was my cousin Janelle and all I did with her, if you must know, was go to talk my brother out of killing himself at Yogi Park."

"What?" Her voice softens, and her heart sinks to her stomach. She was with him the day before, and the memory of them talking by the lake weighs on the space where her heart once was.

"A park ranger called, and I answered it before my Mom did, thankfully. He said Xavius was standing in the water, threatening to drown himself. I called my cousin, she came to pick me up, and he was there, asleep on the bench. I guess the guy talked some sense into him." Jerome turns his head to the glass, and she watches him rapidly blink before her eyes shift to his pudgy jaw, flexing against the pull of his teeth grinding.

"Jerome, I'm sorry." Judith reaches her hand toward his, but he yanks it back and stares at her with tears sitting dormant.

"I asked you to leave me alone, so you ignored me and came to my house. Okay, you dropped off my sweatshirt, cool. Now, here you are, acting like a deranged ex, and for what?" Her lip trembles, and she takes jagged breaths, waiting for an answer that refuses to come to her. "Imagine if it were me doing this to you. I mean, isn't that what David was doing?"

"Stop," she sternly tells him, pointing her finger at him like a child. "I'm here because I care about you, and I said I'm sorry, so don't compare me to David."

"You both are sick," he raises his voice, and she flicks her eyes to Eric when he snickers, bouncing her gaze from him to Manuel, then back to Jerome. "I'm not dating you. We never even established that we were a thing, and maybe we could've if you didn't ditch our date for him!"

"Oh, my God, why're you doing this right now? You must've been waiting to chastise me or something." She smiles despite her feeble attempts to hold a straight face.

They glance toward the door when the bell dings and watch a white man— in a grey suit with brown patches stitched on his elbows and a bow design on his loafers— walk toward the counter.

"No," Jerome tells her as she turns to him. "I'm just – tired. I've been trying to fix you, and I lost myself in the stupid cat and mouse chase. You need help, and I pray you'll find it."

He faces his friends, and as he walks away, she scrunches her expression while bowing her head. She whimpers like a child suppressing a sob, and he stops behind Khalíd, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

"Jerome, please," she forces herself to cry, a piercing pain shooting through her temples. "I'm sorry."

"No, 'Rome." Eric gives him a serious look, and Khalíd releases the joystick, allowing himself to lose to help his friend as well. As Jerome turns to her tear-stained face, Manuel and Eric meet each other's wide eyes.

"I promise I'll change, okay? I don't wanna be like David, and I don't want you to be scared like I was." She takes a step toward him, and when he doesn't move, she sprints closer and tosses her arms around him, resting her cheek against his abdomen. "I love you."

She feels his pulse through his thick clothes, and when his heart skips a beat, she cracks a smile that he doesn't notice. He's staring at the man waiting by the register.

"Please, say something," she begs with a sniffle, pulling her head back to gaze up at him. He's trembling against her body from what she said and her behavior, and she knows how vulnerable he feels.

"Judy, please just," he stops himself and peers into her dark browns. Taking a deep breath, he mutters, "Just promise me you'll see a shrink when you get to that school in Morehead."

She hums an affirmation to his request with her lips in a semi-straight line. Khalíd sucks his teeth, then storms past them, Manuel following him. They exit the building, and Eric steps toward them.

"Be careful, 'Rome." He and Judith glance at each other then she watches him leave with his friends.

***

"I'm glad you're back in my class." With her arms folded, she stares at the wide smile on her professor's face. "I heard about you transferring to another school with a few other students, and I'll admit I was a little sad, but seeing you here, I guess it was gossip."

"It's true. I'm only here because apparently, I'm not a student there yet, even though I signed some papers saying I wanted to be. It's confusing." She rolls her eyes, and he nods.

He's sitting on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed as well and her in front of him.

"How does your mom feel about it," Professor Chandler asks, and she shrugs. "Okay, well, have you asked her?"

"Why do you care? Actually, I have a better question, why do you keep singling me out?" He looks around. "It's weird. You're like sixty and, for some reason, wanna talk me to me about everything but classwork."

"Didn't think there'd be a point since you didn't bring your bookbag. I figured you don't care about your education, so why bother asking?" Judith glances at the sheet of paper beside him with two polaroid pictures taped to it.

"You went to that funeral home." She eyes the cadaver under a white blanket, the nameless woman's sandy red hair falling in waves around her head and over the neck prop.

"Oh, yeah, I actually had to go to the one in Hartsville instead." He lifts it and scans it as if it were his first time. He extends his arm, and she takes the paper but ignores his notes to ogle the woman with morbid curiosity. "The class enjoyed the experience. It's different, you know, we focus on life but seeing the other side of medicine was - fascinating."

"She looks young," Judith says in a whispering croak, and he nods his head at her shoes.

"Her name was Dawn. They say she was fifty-two." They briefly lock eyes before returning to what had their attention. "She had polio when she was five, and as she got older, it caused her to have breathing problems. It's a miracle she reached that age, with the wheezing and -"

"You okay?" She sits her hand on his when he chokes over his sadness. He attended college with her and vowed to ask her out after graduation, but by then she'd moved away.

"Yeah, uh, head to your next class." He takes his hand from under hers and wipes his eyes before his grief pours from them.