"My mom's friend lost a child, so, um, I have to go to downtown Florence for the funeral," Judith lies while lifting the bottle of water to her lips. Before she takes a swig, she mumbles, "Just for support."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Jerome looks at his nails when she doesn't respond. "My little brother had a twin sister, but she passed before she was born; polio."

"I'm sorry," she says after swallowing the water. Her eyes are big and full of pity. "Do you miss her?"

"You can't really miss someone you've never met, but I do wonder how she would've looked and what her hobbies would've been." He looks at her and gives her a quick, forced grin. "Do you miss your brother?"

"More than anything else," she answers followed by a sad sigh. Her eyes begin to heat up. Sometimes, she hates talking about her brother because the mere mention brings her to tears. To lift the cloud of grief around them, she says with a joyous tone, "I really wish he could've taught me how to ride a fucking bike, though."

She chuckles dryly, and her face gradually scrunches as her laughter turns to crying. Jerome scoots closer to her, his expression empty. He didn't find humor in her pathetic joke, which she noticed.

He takes her plastic bottle and sits it next to his radio, and then he pulls her closer to his chest. Judith rests her left cheek against his soft heartbeat, her arms dangling at her sides, and he wraps his between her bookbag and her back.

Her rapidly falling tears dampen his shirt, the material clinging to his chest, but he doesn't mind. He sits his chin on her head, and he takes a deep breath.

"How did he pass," he asks over her wails and sniffles.

"Cancer." Her body racks in his embrace, and he hugs her tighter. "I never got to say goodbye because my Mom didn't think I would've been able to handle seeing him go. I never got to tell him that I loved him. I wanted to apologize for all the things I said out of anger – and I wanted him to know that – that I didn't --"

He shushes her when he sees how difficult it is for her to speak. "I'm sure he knew that you loved him, and I believe you know he loved you too. It's okay, Judy."

"What the hell did you do, Jerome," his mother asks from his door when she hears her sobbing, and he turns his head to peer at her over his shoulder.

"I didn't do anything. She's just upset about stuff, but it's fine; she's fine," Jerome assures his mother, and she narrows her eyes uncertainly. She slowly turns away with her hands on her wide hips, and he watches her walk downstairs.

Judith sniffles as she leans back to look him in the eyes. He wipes her tears under his thumbs, his touch warm and gentle.

"I'm glad I met you," Judy tells him, and he smiles. She stares at his mouth, and before he can respond, she swiftly leans in to kiss him. His eyes widen, and he takes her upper arms in his hands, pushing her away.

"Wait!" He takes a breath, shock plastered on his brown blushing face. Hers lightens with a shade of beetroot red as well.

"I'm sorry." Judith sits her fingers over her mouth and mumbles, "I shouldn't have done that. You're mad at me, aren't you?"

"I'm not," he assures her, blinking rapidly with his lips agape. "I just – I don't think that now's a good time for this. You're in distress, Judy, and me kissing you wouldn't feel right. You understand, right?"

She nods her head but doesn't look at him. As she lowers her hands onto her lap, he takes his off of her. Jerome slides back to return to his desk, and she watches him, her eyes squinting and her nose twitching. She blinks rapidly before belting out a sneeze into the crook of her right arm.

"Looks like that jog through the rain caught up to you," he teases, and she chuckles. "Why'd you do that, by the way; run to my dorm without your regular clothes?"

"Oh, well, Kacey had my stuff in her room. It's a long story," she says dismissively, then peeks at his radio out of the corner of her eye. "So, what do you usually listen to?"

"Jazz, Rhythm and Blues, Blues, Doo Wop." Jerome then turns the dial. It clicks as he sifts through the stations. "But mostly, I listen to the news. What I can't get in the paper, this baby gives me. What do you like?"

"Oh, man," she takes a breath and smiles as she thinks of her favorite genres. He looks at her and waits for her answer. "Hm, Funkadelics and Disco, in general, are pretty good, but I'll honestly listen to whatever I can groove to."

"Oh, you dance," he asks, and she flashes her top row of teeth at the playful disbelief in his tone. "I don't know. You seem like what Khalíd would call a CDQ."

"CDQ," she repeats. He lands on Tears on my Pillow by Little Anthony.

"A closet disco queen," he clarifies, and she blows air out of her nose before standing to her feet. She takes the bookbag off and sits it on his bed.

"Stand up." She extends her right hand toward him. He looks at it with raised eyebrows and a smirk before placing his hand in hers. She tugs him, but he doesn't budge, and they snicker at her feeble attempt to bring him to his feet.

Jerome rises on his own and stands in front of her. Judith takes his hands and sits them on her waist, then she reaches her arms up to bring them around his neck, but he's too tall. He leans in so she can, and she feels the heat of his mint-scented breath on her mouth.

"Okay, now I usually do better alone, but if you don't have two left feet, we may be able to work this out." He chuckles and watches her shoes to mimic her steps.

After a moment of practice, they sway along to the music, and though their rhythm isn't perfect, it feels just right. Jerome's heart pounds against hers in sync as if they bear halves to one whole. Her grin falls as she stares into his warm, dark browns.

"Can I – kiss you," she asks, and he pauses as if he doesn't know how to answer. He shakes his head no, and sadness creeps onto her face.

"We will eventually. Just not tonight," Jerome softly assures her, but it fails to cheer her up. Judith rests her right cheek against his chest, and they rock to the music until it ends.

***

"Judy?" Jerome loudly calls for her, and she jolts into the seated position, sweat gripping her hair to her forehead and the nape of her neck. He's standing over her, and she's panting heavily as if she was holding her breath. "Hey! Good morning, um, so I'm supposed to walk you home to help clear the air with your Mom."

She glances behind him and notices his room door open, and then she looks at the radio on his desk before groggily asking, "What time is it?"

"It's eight-thirty," he answers. Judy's stomach rumbles, and her throat and tongue are dry.

He points to his closet door, which is closed, and her backpack is leaning against it. She watches him leave the room, but she doesn't get out of his bed until he shuts the door behind him.

Judith removes his long shirt from her body, then gathers his sweatpants from her bag. She folds them together, sits them on his hamper next to his closet, then changes into her third outfit: a black long sleeve turtleneck and bell bottoms.

She slides into her shoes which he left beside her bag, then sifts her hand to the bottom. She grips her bottle of Ipecac, untwists the cap, then chugs just enough to leave a sour taste on her tongue. She scrunches her face at the strength of the thick liquid.

I'll have to get used to it again.

She closes it, drops it in her backpack, zips it shut, then exits the room with it slung over her shoulder. She follows the trail of smoke and the aroma of something burning, which leads her to the kitchen where Jerome is with Xavius and Justin. She stands on the threshold.

"I told you not to turn it up that high," Justin loudly states from the dining table to the left of the quaint room. Jerome stands in front of the stove, fanning the smoke while Xavius runs cold water over a red skillet.

"And I told him not to touch it. I was gonna cook after I woke Judy up," Jerome explains while annoyed. Xavius' jaw shifts from left to right as he grinds his teeth, silently seething over them lecturing him.

"Do y'all need help?" They turn their heads to look at her in unison. "I don't eat much, but I can cook well enough."

"Honestly, we don't have time." Jerome sighs. "I gotta walk you home and house-sit until Mom gets back."

Judith looks behind her when she hears three honks, then at Justin, when he announces, "That's my ride. See you on campus, Jerome."

He stands up, and speed walks to the front door. Her face displays her confusion as she looks at them.

"He doesn't catch the bus," she asks when the front door booms shut and Jerome shakes his head no. "Wait, I've never seen him at the bus stop."

Xavius snickers at her question, and Jerome sighs heavily. "Okay, let's not play twenty questions right now. This isn't working, so I'm done. Xavius, fix this before Mom finds out because if the smoke alarm goes off, we're getting yelled at."

"Whatever," he grumbles, then watches him step into the living room with Judith.