“Thank. You,” I offered up to whoever was listening.
I coaxed the Mazda forward, cringing as the flop-flop-flopping got louder. I really hoped my entire wheel wasn’t going to fly off, but if it was, at least the professionals were close by.
A man in his mid-twenties, sporting a bowling shirt, walked out of one of the bays. More of his face was covered in grease than not. Waving his hand, he motioned me over, pointing at the empty first bay.
A nearby auto shop and a helpful employee. I’d just gotten a call from the miracle network.
Once the Mazda was inside, I got out, wanting to inspect the damage.
“Let me guess,” the guy said, wiping his hands off with a cloth. It didn’t look like it did any good. “The other guy won.” Crouching down to take a look at my wheel, he shook him head.
“Sharp projectiles hurling themselves into soft, manmade materials generally do,” I replied, kneeling beside him.
“Words to live by,” he said, slapping the tire and standing up. “Let’s get this taken care of for ya, honey.”
“Thank you,” I said, standing. “No rush, but any idea how long this might take?” I’d been on my way to the dance studio, hoping to get a full Saturday of dancing in, but it looked as if my plans might be changing.
“You’ll be in and out in a jiff, hon,” he said, motioning to someone inside the office area. “I’m going to put my best man on it.”
And then, inexplicably, goose bumps rose over my arms, and everything around me got warm and bright.
“Hey, Jude,” the guy hollered, “get your ass out here and help this cute little thing out.”
I could see him through the back windows, his back to the garage, talking on the phone with someone. He hung up the phone and turned around. I’d never before seen a smile disappear so fast. It was a world record, thanks to me.
Then, squaring his shoulders, he marched out of the office, coming around the back of the car.
“What’s the problem, Damon?” Jude asked, staring at the car, refusing to look at me.
“Girl had a run in with a nasty piece of junk,” Damon shouted over, his head hidden in the hood of the truck next to us. “Fix whatever needs done. It’s on the house.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” I hollered over at Damon.
Peeking his head out, he looked at me purposefully. “Yeah, it is.”
I would have gone back and forth a few more rounds with him, but when Jude breezed by me without so much as a hello, I knew my fight was needed elsewhere.
“Hey, Jude,” I said, walking a few steps towards where his back was to me, inspecting the tire.
Shoving into a stand, he walked by me, lips sealed shut and eyes dead ahead. He popped the trunk open and pulled the spare free.
“You’ve really got this whole silent thing down,” I called after him. “Good for you, you’ve proved your point that you absolutely disdain me,”—disdain might have been a tad generous for the way Jude ignored me—“but you’re really not going to say hi?”
Pausing at the end of a bay, he grabbed a lever. “Hi,” he said with no inflection. “Now scoot the hell back so I can get your tire fixed and you can be on your way.”
Wow. It was worse than I thought. Jude didn’t disdain me—he hated me. However, I didn’t hate him and I wasn’t going to pretend I did.
“I heard you got a full ride to just about any university of your choice,” I said, hollering over the lift as the Mazda went up.
Watching the car, he responded with a shrug.
“I even heard Coach A mention a few NFL teams are interested.”
Another shrug, this time with the other shoulder.
“The NFL, Jude. Wouldn’t you be, like, one of the first guys to ever be drafted straight out of high school?”
The lift shuddered to a stop, and Jude marched for the flat tire. He glanced over at me where I was leaning against the wall and looked away about as fast. “I’m sure those are just rumors or sensationalized. Besides, even if I did get picked up, I’d wind up on the bench or getting injured playing with guys a hundred pounds larger.”
I couldn’t stop the smile that surfaced. Jude was talking to me again. “Was that just a full sentence directed at me?” I asked, tipping my ear.
Hoisting a tool off a bench, he began ratcheting off the lug nuts. “Actually, that was two.”
“And what have I done to deserve two complete sentences from you?” I didn’t care.
“You’re talking to my good side,” he said, looking over at me and giving me just barely, but enough of a smile.
I never imagined I’d be thankful for a flat tire, but I added it to the list. “I didn’t think you had one.”
“I don’t,” he said, removing the last lug nut. “But damn if one doesn’t try to emerge every blue moon.” Hoisting what was left of the tire and wheel from the axel, he hefted it on the ground.
Damn if he wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d seen in a long time. Maybe ever.
“How have you been?”
“There’s a loaded question,” he said, cocking a brow at me. “How’s Diamond?” he asked as non-emotionally as Jude was capable when he talked about Sawyer.
“Did you just answer a question with a question?”
Rolling the spare around the side, he glanced up at me again. This time for a whole second longer. “I just cancelled out your question with one of my own. You don’t want to answer my question any more than I want to answer yours,” he said. “So we’re square now.”
The man had the most messed up sense of fair and square.
And, because I was the idiot I was, I breeched a topic that I already knew wasn’t going to fly well with him. “Jude,” I began, looking at my hands, “I’m sorry for everything I said and did.”
His body was already tensed as he lifted the spare onto the axel, but it flexed at least fifty percent more. “Can you be any more vague?”
I wasn’t going to get defensive. I wasn’t going to get defensive. “Was that a request or a jab?” I got defensive.
“If you’re thinking about bringing up certain topics,” he began, tightening a lug nut like it had done him a world of wrong, “then it was both.”
Swallow pride. Apologize. My internal dialogue was having to guide me through this. “I’m sorry I followed you that night to Holly’s,” I swallowed, something about that name just didn’t feel right to say, “and I’m sorry I went off on you the next morning.”
“I don’t care about any of that,” he said, clenching his jaw.
“You don’t?” I crossed my arms. “Then why are you still so damn pissed at me you’re about to blow your lid?” Being someone prone to bouts of temper overload, I could spot another’s ticks from ten paces.
Jude exhaled, leaning his forehead into the tire. “Damn it all to hell,” he muttered, banging his socket wrench on the metal cart behind him. “Because,” he began, shifting his eyes over at me, “because you took his word over mine.”
That rendered me speechless. In all my midnight over analyzations, I’d never arrived at this conclusion. “And I was wrong to?” I said slowly. “Because it turned out Sawyer was right.”
“He was right about what?” Jude said in a tone that was scarily controlled.
“You and Holly.” Man, I hated saying that name. I was done. She would now be referred to as the tramp that shall not be named.
“Me and Holly, eh?” He fastened another lug nut into place. “So you didn’t think to ask me about her before you decided to stage a stake out? You didn’t choose to trust me over him?”
“Jude,” I sighed in frustration. He wasn’t getting it, or I wasn’t getting it. One of us was definitely not getting it and neither of us was speaking the same language. “It turns out I had no reason to trust you.”
“And you know this for a fact because?” he asked, fastening the last nut into place. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye; being near him and arguing was better than passing by him and being ignored.
“Because I saw you, Jude,” I said, wondering how much I needed to spell out for him to get it. “I saw you with Holly and . . .” I swallowed, “and the baby. I saw it all.”
“You saw me with Holly and the baby,” he repeated, nodding his head with each word. “And that’s why you can’t trust me?”
This should be more obvious than it was to him. Unless cheating behind one’s back had become a morally accepted practice recently. “I think that pretty much sums it up,” I said, wondering if I was missing something. Something so obvious I was overlooking it.
“Well, there you have it,” he said, striding to the opposite wall. “We’re at an impasse again. Neither one of us trusts the other.” Pressing the lever, the Mazda lowered to the ground.
I didn’t want to go, I wanted to figure out what the hell was going on between us. What gaps we’d been remiss to fill in. “I get you’re still pissed at me and I’m still a little pissed with you too,” I said, following him around the back. “But do you think we can get over it and be friends again?”
He laughed one low note, heaving the flat tire into the trunk.
“I miss you, Jude. I miss having one friend that actually has my back and isn’t throwing daggers at it when I turn around.”
He stopped, keeping his back at me. “Sorry, Lucy. You and I can’t be friends.” Shouldering by me, he went around to the driver’s door and opened it.
“Since when do you call me Lucy?” I asked, feeling a new depth of heartbreak.
“Since we stopped being friends.” He craned his neck to the side, motioning me into the car.
I wouldn’t be herded. I planted my feet and crossed my arms. “You can’t make that choice for the both of us,” I said, glaring at him. “You don’t want to be my friend, fine, that’s real big of you. But you can’t tell me I can’t be your friend. So go screw yourself and deal with it.” Hello, temper, nice to see you raising your ugly head again.
His face didn’t even soften like it used to when I went off on him. “People like you and me cannot be friends, Luce,” he said, staring at me like he used to, “and you know it too.”
“What do I know?” I asked, waiting. And waiting. “Come on,” I said, marching towards him. “What do I know?” Because, for the umpteenth time, I didn’t have a clue.
His lips tightened as he tried to slide aside. I didn’t let him. I blocked his path, shoving him back. “Come on, Ryder. What the hell do I know?”
His eyes blazed, meeting mine. “You can’t be friends with the person you were meant to spend your life with,” he said, his eyes darkening. “So get on with your life and live mine the hell alone.” Nudging by me, he jogged out of the garage and kept going.
And what I regretted most, more than anything I’d screwed up along Jude’s and my journey together, was that I didn’t go after him.