▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
NOTE:
I hope you enjoy: vote, comment, and share. Point out any errors as well.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

2 3 | Until There Was You

Dusky colors subdued in the fading lights of the sky. The day whined down into a swizzle of memories. Jude's mind became an empty horizon, a bright silence in the analogies that contradicted the quiet. A soothing plea grazed his ears like the same serenaded breeze that smothered his pale-turning skin. Everything on him was too tight and his stomach felt like he'd been kicked and toppled over.

The football field was a meadow of freedom. That liberty penetrated the grips of his bones. The players were wildflowers that needed sun and water. Suddenly, his mouth was dry, but before he could retort the football was spiraling through the air like the events in his life. Cracking. Snapping. Twisting. Then there were the roars of the ravenous crowds, the cheers, and the boos all swarming the stadium. Jude caught the ball, cleats digging into the Earth and speeding through the open gaps, breath corrupted and altering.

He forced himself to gain more yards—a little here, some there. He was at the sixty-yard line, positive he'd be the one to score the first touchdown. Except when he heard the hard crash of his gear against the opposing player all hope was lost. An aggressive collision sent the crowd into an unnatural state of shock. The only thing Jude remembered was being sprawled over the ground with no motivation to move, and the slow beating of his heart. He was on the ground longer than he wanted to. Stars and blurs crafted under his eyelids, drawling out his ability to sense anything. He couldn't move. He saw people and heard voices, but he couldn't do anything. He felt paralyzed with fear, and pain shot up his leg like a needle piercing his skin.

Get the fuck up, he told himself.

Move.

Come on.

Don't give up now.

Shadows were all he could make out as a pair of arms helped him up. The dark silhouettes of people created an image of insanity and sanity all the while. Still, Jude was losing his mind in that ungrounded state of being. He felt helpless and useless like he couldn't do anything for himself, or the people that drowned in his proximity. Then he saw a familiar pair of green eyes when his own eyes were in mere slits. Coach Bergamot.

"You okay, son?" He asked, gripping the top of Jude's helmet and shaking it a bit. The action was just enough to snap him awake from his tranquil fault of fantasies. His eyes blinked open sparks of stars, drawing up supernovas in his orbs. Hot and bright.

"I'm fine," he said in a hoarse voice, then coughed his tone back to normal as he heard the claps of the crowd. The world spun and everything reverted. Jude wobbled a bit and knew that Bergamot caught it. He tried to avoid it but couldn't.

"Why don't you sit out for a bit? That was a pretty nasty hit," Bergamot insisted.

"I'm fine coach. Just let me back out there, see?"

Jude stood up and presented himself to Bergamot as if he were perfectly normal and in good health. Maybe he had been, but the look on Bergamot's face said he wasn't getting back in the game any time soon. His expression was evidence enough. Jude wasn't going anywhere. He was surprised he even had the privilege to sit out on the bench with the rest of his teammates.

They'd probably take that privilege away from him too. Jude tossed his helmet aside, digging his fingertips in the scalp of his hair, head dipped low in disappointment. Had he cost his team the game? He felt the queasy feeling of the loss gouging the depths of his mind. It stung.

For the first half of the game, he watched it on the sidelines. He analyzed how hard the opposing team hit. What defensive play they had been running each time. He even saw through the offense. What pained him the most was seeing his team not scoring, and he wondered if this would have happened in their previous game if Coach chose Seth instead of him.

The only thing that was stopping them from scoring was the other team's heartless defense. If they could break through that they'd have the game in the bag. Jude kept his thoughts in mind when halftime came along and they crowded into the locker room. Jude took the spot closest to the corner, attempting to hide from further embarrassment. His arms were crossed while he leaned into the lockers.

Bergamot's footsteps sounded like death when he entered. There was no doubt he was reflecting on the performance that went down moments before. Jude saw that mannerism in the way he scratched at his chin and gazed at the ground. Contemplation scattered the entire room, dripping from the expressions of a defeated team.

Bergamot didn't say a word. When he finally looked around the room guilt danced in Jude's chest. If they lost this game it would've meant the entire season was pointless up until this moment. Jude stared back at his coach and watched as he shook his head and left the room. It wasn't like Bergamot to admit to losing so easily. There was still time, but the look on his face seemed to say they fucked it up either way. When Bergamot left and the assistant coaches followed Lincoln stood up.

"I don't know about you guys, but I want to win this game."

"How the fuck can we, Linc? Their defense has us on lockdown," Seth inputted. Jude cringed at Seth's statement.

"The way I see it both teams are in pretty unpredictable spots. Their team hasn't scored and neither have we, which makes this game boring as fuck," Ezra inputted.

"They're running the same play every time," Jude mentioned and the entire team turned in his direction with curious eyes.

"Would've been helpful if you mentioned that earlier?" Lincoln insisted.

"Piss off," Jude retorted. Then he walked to the whiteboard and collected the marker that sat. He doodled down x's and o's explaining their repetitive defense and offense plays each time. Jude explained the routes that they left open and the direction they'd go each time.

"It's that simple?" Lincoln asked.

"That simple," Jude replied.

Upon Jude's return to the field, he caught up with the coach, who had been squirting Gatorade down his throat. "Coach, are you good?"

"I'll be better when this team gets their shit together," he grumbled, but as Jude was about to speak again the rest of the players came back out. He stood up and adjusted his hat, chewing on the gum he had inserted in his mouth moments before. Jude watched as he walked toward the assistant coaches and started up a conversation. Jude wondered if that meant he'd be getting in soon. He watched until Bergamot turned in his direction and nudged his head toward the field.

"Lockhart, you're in."

Jude jolted up and sprinted onto the field. At that very moment, he believed they had the game in the bag.

"Down, set, hike!"

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

Fortunately for Jude, he predicted exactly what their fate had been before the game finished, and thankfully he was right. They won their game by two close touchdowns. Jude was ecstatic because it meant they'd be advancing on to the next round, then came the championship. After exiting the locker room with his clothes changed, bag slung over his shoulder, his mother approached him. It felt like an anchor had been tossed on top of him. He couldn't meet her eyes and stared at the exit that lingered behind her.

"I'm proud of you," she complimented. The phrase caught Jude off guard, and something inside his chest furled. Those string of words wasn't common in their family. So, Jude smiled because it was all he wanted to hear from his mother in the eighteen years he had been living. He had accomplished the one thing that had been dragging him down. That one fateful phrase felt like a soothing remedy for all his worries.

"Thanks," he replied, scratching at the nape of his neck. He didn't know what to say after that. There was nothing that she could have done to make what was going on normal.

"How's your father?" She asked, then let out a sigh. Jude knew the question had been coming.

"Have you tried calling him? You know, to see for yourself," Jude suggested because it was the mature thing to do.

He didn't have the guts to tell his mother that he had picked up on a drinking habit in the few days she had been gone. He didn't want to tell his mother that conversation had been as rare between them as a flying cat. He didn't have the guts to tell her how bad things had really gotten. Nights at the dinner table even seemed more awkward than usual because there weren't any topics to discuss.

"He won't answer any of my calls," she told him, looking off in the distance. No kidding. Jude was hardly surprised.

"I just...I want to explain myself," she added. If Jude hardly had the courage to give his mother the time of day he was sure his dad wouldn't. He was too sunk in the betrayal Jude was once caught up in. Everyone handled similar situations differently, and Jude hated the way his dad was currently coping with things—drowning himself in his sorrows.

"Can you get him out the house, somehow? I want to fix this."

"I don't think you can. He's talking about getting a divorce, mother. What you did was wrong."

The action that Jude's dad suggested took neither of them by surprise, if anything Jude expected it above anything else. He'd have done the same thing.

"I know," she admitted. "And I hope you both are aware I never meant to hurt either of you."

"Yeah, I know," he said in a mumbled voice. "See you around."

She gave a prolonged stare, waiting for nothing in particular. To Jude, it seemed she wanted to add more—to say more—but she kept it to herself. Just as she kept the entire scandal to herself. Jude wished he felt some kind of pity for his mother, but he couldn't. He didn't feel a thing because it was all on her.

Jude left and went to search for Waverly. By then, the stadium had cleared out completely, but the lights were still flickered on. He found Waverly in the stands, looking ahead at the perfect midnight velvet that grazed the star-speckled sky. She averted her gaze when he sat next to her, and the wind jumped a bit while caressing the strands of his messy hair.

"Hey," he greeted. He gripped his bag a little tighter, feeling his palpitations gritting his words into a fumble. His stomach did that careless somersault and he stared out at the stadium lights.

"God, Lockhart you're so fucking awkward sometimes," she admitted with a smile. Then she turned to look at him. "You didn't injure yourself too badly, did you?"

"No. I'm fine," he reassured and Waverly kept her eyes on his. It was like a staring contest and neither of them tore their gaze away. Finally, Waverly did. She looked down at her hands coiled in her lap and she looked so innocent: starry, galactic, and far away. Jude was sure he saw his childhood in her.

"I'm flattered I worried you," he added to break the tension, but Waverly remained silent as if she were an entirely different person. In other circumstances, she would have laughed and threatened him, and again Jude was reading too much into her silence.

"Hey, you okay?"

The stadium lights blinked off and the darkness surrounded them. It was just the two of them and the sky.

"Waverly?"

"Shush! I'm thinking," she finally announced and Jude released a breath. He let her think for what felt like forever and hoped she wouldn't be sitting there thinking all night. Finally, she spoke. "Imagine my surprise when you told me you liked me. I thought it was a joke, but the look on your face said otherwise."

"The way you're looking at me now says otherwise," she added. Jude wished she hadn't stopped thinking. He remained silent, swallowing back his words.

"You don't like me, Jude. You like the idea of me. You like the feeling I give you when I'm around. You don't feel lonely when I'm with you—a feeling you've been experiencing all your life," she assumed. "You can't feel for someone you don't know, and I rarely know myself sometimes."

"You're wrong," Jude defended, but in some ways, she wasn't. Every word coming out of her mouth was true, and maybe that was the reason he fell for her so easily. And the reason he continued to stay around so long.

"Am I?" she asked, finally looking at him through those constellated orbs. "Everything goes away eventually. You won't feel like this months from now. At some point, we'll both say goodbye. You'll leave like every other temporary thing."

She looked off again. Jude felt the sudden urge to hug her, but he knew Waverly didn't need hugs. She probably didn't want one either. And despite the previous events that happened with his parents, Beverly, and the football game, he believed those events hadn't compared to now as he sat with Waverly listening to her reality of things.

"I'm not gonna leave you," he said in a soft voice that made him sound puny.

"Promises are a dangerous thing, Lockhart."

It was like a warning, a flashing alert in his head as he mimicked her body language.

"Sometimes you have to take a risk," he retorted, thinking about the way Waverly favored risks over caution.

Slowly, an intensity danced along his skin when he leaned into her, smelling all the oils and natural scents she consisted of. Their proximity was so unordinary. He had to stop himself and rethink what he had been doing. Hesitating like he always did. He stopped himself because although it felt right, it also felt wrong. What would happen after this? Would they still be the same? Did Jude really want this? They had done it before, slightly drunk, but now that he was sober it made it all the more true. Like a secret confirmation.

His eyes shifted between her features, taking in her expression, holding onto that moment. Friend or not he liked Waverly and that didn't take all the time in the world to figure out.

For once in his life he said fuck it and connected his lips with hers, coexisting while disappearing. Their lips moved in sync, tackling each other like a battle. She tasted like every beautiful, broken thing that reminded Jude why he couldn't stay away. Why neither of them could. She was that jagged cliff he always feared jumping off. Now he was falling. Falling face first, fast and hard.

His eyes were blazed, allowing him to kiss her harder as if he were afraid she'd realize what she had been doing and let go. Nothing else around him mattered, except for the fact that Waverly had felt the same way. Softly, she traced a foreign pattern on his chest with the palm of her hand, and her other hand was lost in the ringlets of his hair. His lips trailed to her jaw, then her neck. She tasted so addicting, like that candy you craved as a child.

The two were so absorbed with one another, grasping onto melting pieces. Jude feared if he let her go she'd disappear like a dream. He feared that she wouldn't exist anymore—only one thought in his head. And just like that, it was over. Waverly was the first to pull away with her eyes appearing larger than usual.

"I guess that answers my question," he assumed. This time it was much harder to keep her gaze and it felt like things were already changing between them.

"I'm already regretting it," she responded, rolling her eyes and standing up. "I should get home because you're making things weird."

"I'm not," Jude defended, but he was well aware that he was, and clearly couldn't help the smile on his face.

"You are."

Jude wanted her to stay. He wanted to say more, but he didn't. He watched her walk up the steps and away from him completely. As a result, he waited there without keeping track of time and when he finally left his main priority was getting home to his dad and checking in on him. That idea was cut short when he received a text from Waverly that her mother wasn't there and she wanted him to spend the night. If it came from any other girl Jude would assume there was a reason she mentioned why her mother wasn't home, but Waverly wasn't any other girl. So, Jude texted his dad that he'd be spending his night at a 'friend's' house, and made a turn in the other direction. His dad responded seconds later with an okay, but Jude wasn't able to check it until he reached his destination.

When he finally had he knew it'd be fine. Jude sat in his car and texted Waverly that he was outside, then Waverly gave the say so for him to come in, which he did. He entered quietly to find Waverly wrapped in her fluffy covers on the sofa in the living room. It almost looked as if she hadn't left from that spot at all—never attending the game.

"There goes my knight in shining armor," she teased with a playful smile, then scooted over and watched as Jude collected a seat next to her.

"What made you call?"

"I got bored. Plus, most teenagers usually have plans on a Friday night. This is my plan."

"So you're using me because you're bored."

"Not completely," she admitted. "And considering you may have put aside your plans for me, I guess that means I'm pretty important. So technically I'm not using you. It's a win, win situation."

"I only came because I thought something happened."

"How sweet of you. I'm all good," she assured. "I have my orange juice and cookies. Nothing could go wrong."

"Still don't understand what is wrong with your taste buds. No normal person eats that."

"What's wrong with yours?" she retorted in a mumble, dipping the cookie in the juice on the table. Jude almost gagged, but instead took some of the covers she was using. He made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the sofa, careful not to invade her personal space because although they had kissed, it didn't signify where they stood. He was still just as confused on that part.

He watched the television for a few moments and soon realized they had been watching The Theory of Everything again. All Jude did was smile at the thought. And for a moment he felt like that was okay—that he was okay. Because just for tonight he'd be fine with the way everything was.

Eventually, Jude fell asleep as if it were the simplest thing then, and maybe it was at that time. And it would be for a long time because he could've sworn he had heard Waverly telling him she liked him too when he fell into that state of tranquility. Out of instinct and half asleep, he pulled her near him, and at first Waverly protested, but then they fell asleep with tangled limbs and fast-beating hearts.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

TO BE CONTINUED

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀