Page 31

Jude

On her way out of the subway, Jude raised her fingers to her eyes for a third time, exhaling in relief when they touched plastic. She felt a little ridiculous wearing sunglasses at night, but taking them off made her feel much worse.

In the past two weeks, Jude had been recognized by strangers on the street five times.

Five different people had come up either for a photo or to ask invasive questions about her relationship with Kat.

Jude felt like an asshole, but she’d refused every time and then fast-walked away.

And those were just the people who actually spoke to her.

How many people had recognized her as she walked by and not said anything?

Ever since the paparazzi photos of them kissing had been released, things had changed.

Kat had gained five hundred thousand Instagram followers practically overnight, and her days were suddenly busy with interviews and podcast recordings.

People weren’t just interested in Kat, either.

They were also interested in who she was dating.

Jude had told Kat she was worth it, and she meant that, but it was unsettling.

She felt watched all the time. Buying groceries or walking through Washington Square Park, she couldn’t help imagining how she looked from the outside.

She held herself differently, standing taller and monitoring her facial expression, and she dressed more carefully in the mornings.

Even when she was by herself, it was hard to turn off.

She caught herself posing a little as she cut open boxes in the empty storeroom. Like part of her was always acting.

She couldn’t imagine growing up with this pressure. Always feeling watched, always needing to perform to other people’s expectations. How could you form a sense of self under those conditions? How could you know who you were when you were alone if you could never be alone, even in your own head?

Kat was hard on herself for not knowing she was queer for so long. But under those conditions, Jude was impressed that she had figured it out at all.

Jude double-checked her sunglasses as she headed to the corner of Thirty-fourth and Madison. Kat had told Jude to come there after work for a “surprise.”

Once she arrived, Jude shifted awkwardly on the sidewalk, checking for anyone looking at her.

Maybe she was being paranoid, but Rhys had already chased another reporter away from the bookstore.

At first, Jude had hidden in the back, busying herself with inventory and unboxing.

But when Stephen had stopped by the store and caught her skulking, he’d ordered her to work the front desk.

If people wanted to come take photos of her, he said, then she would let them—provided they bought a book while they did it.

“Hi, cutie,” a voice said in Jude’s ear, causing her to jump.

She whirled around, but it was just Kat, laughing delightedly at Jude’s startled expression.

Jude smacked her playfully on the shoulder and Kat laughed again, then gave Jude a big, squeezing hug.

She didn’t let go afterward, just kept her arms around Jude’s waist and pulled back far enough to give Jude a kiss.

“You look happy,” Jude said.

Kat beamed. “I am.”

Jude grinned back, feeling her tension wisping away under the force of Kat’s smile. “So, what’s this surprise?”

Kat threaded her fingers through Jude’s and tugged her up the street. “You’ll see when we get there.”

Jude let herself be led. Two blocks later, Kat paused. “I hope you like this,” she said. “If you don’t, that’s totally okay. But you making the bar was so sweet, and I just…wanted to try to do something for you. As a thank-you.”

“A thank-you for what?” Jude asked, but Kat just smiled mysteriously.

“Come on.” Kat tugged Jude up another half block to a huge, ornate stone building.

“The Morgan Library?” Jude said. “Is that where we’re going?” The Morgan Library had once been the private library of J. P. Morgan before being turned into a museum where ordinary people could gawk at the beautiful shelves and first editions.

Kat led Jude up the stone ramp to the modern wing. “Have you been before?”

“My mom took me when I was a kid, but I don’t remember it much. Are you sure it’s still open? It’s already 7:30.”

Kat gave her a mysterious smile. “Why don’t we find out?”

Sure enough, when Jude pushed on the glass front door, it was locked, and the interior only lit by a few shadowy lights.

“Well, we can always come back another day,” Jude said, trying to sound cheerful.

Kat reached out and pushed a buzzer next to the door that Jude hadn’t noticed. A few seconds later, to Jude’s surprise, the door unlocked with an audible click. Kat pushed it open and gestured for Jude to go first, laughing at the shocked look on her face.

“Are we allowed to be here?” Jude whispered as they walked into the shadowy lobby. “Am I committing a crime right now?”

Kat laughed. “One of the producers of Spleen Girls is on the board here. I made a few calls.”

“Wow.” Jude gazed around the empty lobby. She’d never had a museum all to herself before. This was definitely cool.

“Come on.” Kat strode toward the stairs.

“I think the library is the other way,” Jude said, but Kat just shot her a mysterious glance and started downstairs. Jude shrugged and followed.

“Wait,” Kat said suddenly as they reached the bottom. “Close your eyes.”

Jude obediently closed them. A second later, she felt Kat come up behind her, reaching around to cover Jude’s eyes with her hands.

“Step forward slowly,” Kat said, and her voice tickled Jude’s ear, sending a shiver up her sides and making the hair prickle on the back of her neck.

She took a few cautious steps. “Now turn to the left. A little more. Good. And keep walking.” Kat hovered behind her as Jude walked uncertainly, her eyes still squeezed shut.

Was it weird that this was turning her on?

“Okay,” Kat breathed softly into Jude’s ear. Jude was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose this time. “You can look.”

Jude opened her eyes. They were in an exhibit room, with shining wood floors and white walls hung with paintings. The paintings were beautiful, done in soft, dreamy colors with an oddly familiar style.

“Wait. Are these by Fatima Halabi?”

Kat wrapped her arms around Jude from behind. “You said she was your favorite artist. When I saw she had an exhibition here, I decided we had to come. But I thought it’d be a little more romantic if we did it after hours, when there are no crowds.”

Jude twisted around to gape at her. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“Of course I remember,” Kat said.

Jude wrapped her arms around Kat and kissed her hard.

“This is incredible. Thank you.”

“It’s actually also a thank-you for you. ” Kat bounced on her feet. “I got the role!”

“ What? ”

“I saw Richard Gottlieb at the reading yesterday, and he asked me why he’d been seeing me around so much lately, and suddenly I just heard your voice in my head.

You’ve been urging me to listen to my gut more, and my gut was telling me to go for it.

So I told him that I wanted the role in his show. And he said yes. ”

Jude picked Kat up and swung her around in a circle, making her feet flare out. They stumbled into each other dizzily, laughing. “That’s my girl!” Jude said. “I’m not surprised at all.”

“It’s thanks to you,” Kat said.

“That was all you.”

“No.” Kat steadied herself from the spinning and took Jude’s hand. “Really. With you…I feel different. Like what I feel and think actually matter. You’re pretty magical that way.”

Jude felt something shift inside her—whatever walls had still been protecting her heart giving in, letting her feelings flood through every last inch of her body.

She was Kat’s. Completely. Thoroughly.

She picked Kat up again, but instead of spinning her, she kissed her.

When she pulled away, Kat laughed breathlessly. Then she swatted Jude on the shoulder. “You have to actually look at the paintings!” she said. “That’s the whole point of the date.”

Jude leaned in and snuck one last kiss before putting her down. “I can multitask,” she said, and felt a rush of satisfaction when Kat laughed again.

They held hands while they studied each painting carefully.

The exhibition was called Home. Fatima Halabi had painted domestic settings, but in vivid, otherworldly colors.

A blue-toned painting of a dusty, old-fashioned living room with plastic covers that made Jude want to weep.

A crowded apartment entryway, bursting with vivid pinks, filled with piled shoes, tiny hats, and tossed toys.

A beautifully tiled courtyard with a fountain in the middle.

A cardboard box with a sleeping bag, done in vivid swirls like the northern lights.

An ice-fishing cabin, lit by the glow of a lamp.

There were dozens of different kinds of homes, and you could feel each one—the loneliness or happiness or grief that infused each place.

“These are absolutely beautiful,” Kat said as they made their way through the exhibit for a second time.

“They’re even more powerful in person,” Jude said. “I’ve only seen one of her paintings before.”

“This is her first major exhibition, apparently,” Kat said. “You have good taste.”

“Her work always reminds me of my mom,” Jude said. “How our apartment growing up seemed so warm and full, because of her. And now…” she trailed off.

Kat squeezed her hand. “It makes me wonder what my painting would look like,” she said. “A cold prefurnished rental, probably. Empty and sterile.”

“What about where your parents live?”

Kat’s hand pulsed in hers, just once, like an uncontrollable twitch. “I haven’t been back there in four years.”

“Because of the money thing?”

“Sort of.” Kat studied one of the paintings in front of her, but Jude was pretty sure it was just an excuse to avoid eye contact.

“When I was young and making a lot of money, my parents asked me if I was okay with them giving themselves salaries. After all, my mom had given up her job to move to L.A. with me. Of course, I said yes. They bought a big house, in a great neighborhood. And then they bought new cars. And the salaries just kept getting higher, and then…” She sighed.

“Jocelyn sat me down when I was sixteen. Legally, they had to put fifteen percent of my savings into a trust that I could access when I turned eighteen, but otherwise…there was almost nothing left. Jocelyn advised me to get emancipated so I could control my own money.”

Kat dropped Jude’s hand and ran it through her hair instead. “My mom took the emancipation very personally. She told me that if I severed legal ties to her, I was severing all my ties with her. But I did it anyway.”

Jude took in a sharp breath. Losing her mom at twenty-two had been horrible. To have your mom cut ties with you voluntarily at sixteen? She couldn’t even imagine.

“That’s an awful thing to say to your kid.”

“Yeah. It hurt.” Kat pursed her lips. “After that, we didn’t talk for a long time. Now we text every few months, but I haven’t seen them in years.”

Jude studied Kat’s profile as she stared at one of the paintings. “I’m so sorry.”

Kat shook her head, as if shaking off the memory. “Where did you even come from?” she asked, taking Jude’s hand again. “How do you get me to admit these things I’ve never told anyone before?”

“I think you mean where did you come from?” Jude said. “We’re literally standing in a museum after hours looking at paintings by my favorite artist.”

“Well, that’s not the last surprise.”

“It’s not?”

“Come on.” Kat led Jude upstairs. She made Jude close her eyes again before walking into the library room, where a round table with a white tablecloth was sitting, cluttered with rose petals and electric candles and two covered plates.

“I wanted real candles, but obviously the museum wasn’t into that idea,” Kat explained as they walked inside. “You know. Hundred-year-old books and all that. Jude?” She turned, realizing that Jude had stopped in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…” Jude swallowed down the words really romantic. “It’s really, really special.”

Kat walked over and took Jude’s hands. “You deserve to feel special,” she said. “You deserve this and so much more.”

Jude blinked rapidly. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t. She kissed Kat, trying to convey her thanks with her touch, because she didn’t trust herself to speak. Because she was pretty sure that if she did, the only words out of her mouth would be I love you.