Page 11 of The Plus One
And those damn whiskey-colored eyes. They’d only increased in their intensity as she aged.
She still had that unnerving energy about her, like she walked around perceiving the world with heightened senses. Seeing into the very core of everything and everyone, each movement she observed being translated into a detailed report in her head that she studied from all possible angles until you were left feeling like she knew things about you that you didn’t even know about yourself.
And dammit if she hadn’t figured out how to constantly poke Jude’s buttons and disrupt every shred of calm fortitude he had. Or pretended to have, at the very least.
“What’s wrong, Dira?” Collin asked, attention absorbed in playing with the settings on the TV.
Indira thrust her phone under his nose. “Did you know about this?” she asked, her voice quiet, fracturing on the words.
Collin blinked at the phone, his eyebrows furrowing deeply withhis frown. “What… what is this?” His gaze bounced between Indira and Jude like Jude had any clue what they were talking about.
“He’s having another kid,” Indira said, jabbing her finger at the screen.
Jude’s heart sank. He’d heard Indira sayhein that way—dripping with disbelief and disdain—enough times to know she was talking about their father.
Mr. Papadakis was, to put it lightly, an asshole deadbeat. Collin didn’t talk about his dad’s leaving often, but when he did, it came out drunkenly and saturated in hurt; in questions of loss and confusion.
On a few even rarer occasions in college, Indira and Collin had talked about it together in front of Jude, crying as they dug their fingers into the unhealed wound of his empty promises that never stopped in their frequency.
“Did he call you?” Collin asked, the tiny touch of hope in his voice plummeting Jude’s heart even lower. Collin was a naive optimist, and Jude hated seeing his friend hurt.
Indira scoffed. “Of course not. I found out on Facebook. Stepmommy dearest posted a fucking photo shoot of it this morning.”
She scrolled down a bit, tilting the screen to Collin again. Jude glanced over their shoulders.
Mr. Papadakis was standing with his third wife, Brooke-Anne, their toddler twins clad in matching outfits and clinging to their parents’ legs. The adults held up a sonogram in front of them as they kissed. The caption read,Our perfect family is getting a little more perfect.
Collin’s mouth dangled open for a moment, and Jude could see him trying to spin the truth, find a way to make another excuse for the man who so regularly disappointed him. Indira, on the other hand, was nothing but steely anger, eyes sharp, jaw clenched tight as a muscle twitched.
“I’m sure he was waiting until the wedding to tell us,” Collin said, meeting Indira’s eyes. “I bet he wanted to surprise us with the news in person. You know how obsessed Brooke-Anne is with socialmedia, though, so she probably didn’t know the plan or think it through.”
“You seriously can’t be defending him right now,” Indira said, mouth twisting. “He shouldn’t even be invited.”
“Indira, I’m not having this fight again,” Collin said, pushing to stand up from the couch. Indira followed him, the pair tracking an angry path around the room.
Jude was rooted to the spot, the tension and emotions seeping into his skin, locking his muscles and tendons, as they made loops around him.
“It doesn’t need to be a fight if you just think about it for even a minute. He’s the worst, Collin. Why are you opening yourself up to more hurt?”
Jude’s heart thrummed and his palms turned clammy at the increasing volume, the noise resting like a weight on his chest as he tried to breathe normally.
“Excuse me for wanting a relationship with the man,” Collin said, throwing his arms out to the side, making Jude flinch at the sudden movement. “But you’re right. Being pessimistic and jaded like you is definitely the healthier choice.”
Indira’s head shot back, and she opened her mouth to reply.
“Can I borrow your car?” Jude yelled, jolting a step away from them, clenching his shaking hands at his sides.
They blinked at him for a moment like they’d forgotten he was there.
“Sure,” Collin said at last, giving his head a mild shake. “Keys are in the bowl in the hallway.”
Jude nodded in thanks, then darted out the door, gulping down the cool October air through his closing throat.
He locked himself in the car, then started the engine and whipped out of the driveway without looking, trying to steady his shaking hands and roiling stomach, cold sweat breaking across his skin and making it prickle. No matter how many breaths he took, he couldn’t slow his spinning brain.
It was all so much. Too much. The noise and the tension and all of it ripping down his spine, leaving him feeling like he’d be split in two.
After a few blocks, he pulled over and cut the engine, gripping the steering wheel for a moment before slamming his fists against it, yelling out all the hurt that was trying to crack him open.
