Clash

His face dropped. My stomach followed.

“Oh, my god,” I breathed. “Is Jude all right?” My mind, of course, started firing off a list of things that might have happened to him.

“What do you think?” he asked, eyeing me.

“Don’t play with me, Tony,” I warned, my heart starting to slow when I realized what Tony was getting at. Life and limb wise, Jude was fine. Heart and soul wise, he was a bloody mess, right along with me.

“In terms of your face dropping reaction, yeah, he’s fine. No broken bones, no dangling limbs, no fast spreading tumors.”

I waited for my pulse to return to normal. “So what’s up?”

Looking at the floor, Tony leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. His foot was tapping the floor like a piston on speed.

“I heard about what happened with Adriana,” he began, causing me to flinch. I’d gone three weeks without hearing that name and trying not to think about it. Hearing it now slammed me up against a wall.

“I heard Jude’s story, he told me your story, and lord knows I had to hear Adriana bragging about how she’s bedded the quarterback with a girlfriend.”

I was wishing I hadn’t invited Tony inside.

“Anyways, I didn’t think much of it after the drama died down a bit. I believed Jude because he’s my boy, but even I have to admit I had my doubts about the whole ‘no way in hell would I or did I screw Adriana Vix’ testimony,” he said, his eyes moving around the room. “I mean, she’s Adriana Vix. Adriana. Vix.”

“I get it, Tony,” I interrupted, not in the mood for him to get a hard on while he fantasized about her in front of me. “What’s your point?”

Shaking his head, he glanced over at me. “A couple nights ago, I was with my Spirit Sister being”‌—‌his face lined as he contemplated‌—‌”serviced, and she might have been a tad tipsy and ran her mouth a bit more than Adriana would have liked.”

That was one sentence that I couldn’t and didn’t want to wrap my mind around. So I looked at Tony and waited.

“My Spirit Sister’s Payton Presley,” he explained, which didn’t explain anything to me. “She and Adriana are, like, best friends. At least as much as girls like those can have best friends. It’s more like ‘you’re my favorite enemy, so I’ll drive the dagger into your back softly when you turn around.’ That kind of thing.”

None of this was coming around to Jude and me.

“And?” I tried not to sound irritated.

“So Payton was running her mouth in bed about how at least she didn’t have to stage a screw with her football player.”

My heartbeat picked up pace again.

“I nonchalantly pressed her for more details and apparently Adriana told her everything that happened. About Jude storming into the house after your guys’ fight, shutting himself in his room with a bottle of tequila. And so, don’t hate me,” he said, looking over at me like he was a bit scared of me. He had me by a hundred and fifty pounds and he looked like he wanted to feint away from me, “but I might have been the one to mention you and Jude’s fight to Adriana that night. Jude had opened up to me about what had happened, not much‌—‌he hadn’t wanted to talk much‌—‌but I didn’t think it was that big of a deal telling her when she showed up late that night.”

Everything was coming together now. And the realization of what had happened was causing me to feel all sorts of things.

“Payton told me Adriana guessed that you would eventually come walking through that front door, so she camped out in Jude’s room, stripping him down while he snoozed in a tequila stupor, hung out in a bathrobe in front of the window until you pulled up,” Tony sighed, leaning back into the chair and staring at the ceiling, “and you know the rest.”

Words failed me. My heart beat so hard it was echoing through me. There were so many things I needed to say and I needed to do. Jude had been right.

He hadn’t slept with her. He’d told me it didn’t matter how drunk he got, he never would want anyone but me. Or at least hadn’t at the time. Who knows what had changed in him during those weeks apart?

I had about a hundred questions of clarification for Tony, and about a million things I wanted to say, but only two words were on the tip of my tongue.

“That. Bitch.”

Tony nodded. “Not exactly breaking news there, Lucy.” Popping to a stand, he looked down at me. “I know this is none of my business, and I’m gonna catch a shitload of heat from the cheerleaders if they find out I ratted one of their own, but I don’t care. I like Jude. I like you. He loves you,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You deserve to know the truth.”

I had the truth for weeks now, and I’d refused to let it take root.

“Sorry to throw this all on you, Lucy. I know you wanted your space and time and everything, but I couldn’t not tell you.”

“Does Jude know you’re here?” I asked, contemplating my next move.

“Nope,” he said, giving me a sheepish smile. “And he’d probably kick my ass if he did know.”

I nodded. He patted my leg before heading towards the door. “I gotta get back. We’re throwing a huge bash at the place tonight and someone’s got to tap the kegs.”

“Tony?” I called after him.

Stopping, he turned around.