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My heartbeat echoes in my palm where it meets his. I’m trying not to overthink this.Trying,being the operative word. But with the way he kissed me back there, tender, careful, and affectionately, and with the way he hasn’t let go of my hand since, it’s hard not to.
There’s still something simmering between us, undeniably so, and right now, it feels like it never stopped.
When we reach the car, it’s all I can do not to stand here and completely gawk at him, but I fail miserably anyway, my hands sliding smoothly into my back pockets as I rock back on my heels, watching him maneuver his two suitcases into the trunk and studying him from tip to toe. His build is bigger than it was last year. His shoulders a bit broader. His arms thicker. His jeans fit him just a little bit snugger, too.
The trunk door slams shut, and it jars me from my reverie. From my straight-out gawk-fest. I laugh under my breath at myself and slip into the car on the passenger side, giving him the go ahead to drive us through the city he’s much more comfortable with than I am.
When he gets inside, too, our doors closing and shutting out all the outside noise, he just sits there and stares at me in return. And stares, andstares.And I know I’ve never been looked at like this before. Like he’s cataloging every breath, every blink, filling his memory bank with every movement and storing them there for later.
At least that’s what I tell myself he’s doing since I’m so blatantly doing the same.
There was a connection between us last summer, a definite attraction, too, and a solace in the friendship we found. But I could hardly see two feet in front of me then. Looking at Jude now, it’s clearer how much brighter my skies have grown. Howmuch clearer I’m seeing him, and understanding the way he makes me feel.
Safe. Seen. Wanted. Appreciated.
My heart races, and my hands grow shaky, my palms sweaty. I’m anxious, but in the way that makes me want to speed up time to find out what happens next.
Jude reaches out between us and nudges my chin. “I really missed you, Little D.” It’s the first time I’ve been called that in ten long months, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it, too.
“I missed you too, Brooklyn.”
His smile stretches wide. “Speaking of. How are you liking my city? The truth—now that I can see it on your face when you answer me.” It’s a question he’s asked me every other week since I left, but it feels different now, having him ask me when he’s sitting right in front of me. It’s almost like two versions of him have been existing in my mind—the physical, imprinted on my psyche Jude from last summer, and the friend I’ve been talking to through texts andNevernightever since.
I’ve longed for one, while growing closer to the other.
It was inevitable they would slip and shift, sliding into a space that melds the two together, I just didn’t expect it to happen this quickly.
“It’s growing on me,” I reply, and his smile stretches wider.
The truth is, New York has been liberating, intoxicating, an excited hum that lives inside my body. But it’s also a hum that never stops, the chaotic-ness of the busy city never turning off, and it can be… overwhelming. All my senses constantly firing is exhausting. And having to navigate that, along with the anxiety that wrestles with my sanity, hasn’t been the easiest. It’s only when I crawl into my tiny excuse for a bed in my tiny excuse for a dorm with Addy, that I find a moment of peace and I can finally breathe.
I’ve already vowed that this summer will be different, though. I’ll get out more, explore, and see what New York really has to offer. Especially during the next six weeks, now that Jude is here and Addy is back home visiting her parents.
Jude pulls us out of our parking spot, and we exit the parking structure, and he drives us through the city. I rest my chin on my closed hand and look out the window, my neck craned as sky-scraper after sky-scraper passes my view. The clouds above them are white and fluffy, the sky a perfect, crystal-blue.
“So, what are your plans for the rest of summer? With Addy being out of town?” Jude asks.
“Not much.” I shrug, bringing my attention back to him. “I’ve got work, and I’ve been able to take on more hours now that we’re on break. But I’m also taking a six-week summer course on campus, so I’m sure that will fill a lot of my time, too.”
“Ah. What course?”
“Expository Writing.”
He nods. “That’s the critical reading, logical thinking, exploratory writing one, right?”
I mash my lips together, biting down on my smile.
“What?” He chuckles. “I remember. It was either that, or environmental studies. I’m guessing you’re leaning more toward that nursing degree?”
“Yeah, I think I am.” Anxiety trickles through my bloodstream just thinking about it, but nothing else has felt as…right.
“That’s brave, Little D. I’m proud of you.” I know he knows exactly why this decision is a difficult one for me, so his words have my own sense of pride blooming beneath my chest, coexisting with the anxiety that lingers in there. Nursing, after everything I’ve been through, is the only clear path I can see, though.
It feels important. Scary, but important.
I want to help people like my nurses helped me all those weeks I spent in the hospital after my accident. Their care, attentiveness, and uplifting spirits have stayed with me in the six years since, and that’s the kind of difference I want to make in the world, too. Those small acts of kindness that stack up into something bigger, more profound. At least in one small, meaningful corner of the world.
“So, I was wondering…” Jude slices through my thoughts, his fingers tapping a beat against the steering wheel.