“I’d be smug as hell.”
He’s silent for a beat. Then he opens his door, walks around the car to my side and tugs me out. After grabbing our school bags from the back, he leads me to his friends.
“Hi,” he says when we arrive.
They turn to look at us, expressions ranging from wide smiles to suspicious frowns.
“Jude’s my boyfriend,” Aaron announces, emphasising his point by lifting my hand, which has gone limp.
“Nice,” Ethan says before looking at the others. “That’s my work, guys. I got them to make up.”
Ricky nods at me. “Hey, dude. Jude. That rhymes.”
“That’s cool,” Mimi says.
“I’m happy for you guys,” Lily says.
They make small talk for a few minutes, and I’m speechless, still trying to comprehend everything that just happened. Then Aaron leads me to the Year 12 lockers, holding my hand, past student reception and the bus stops, the science building and the tuckshop, the art studio and the library, and doesn’t let go.
23
Aaron: Rules
“We need to establish some ground rules. Rule number 1: no couple stuff during class. You and I are strangers — acquaintances at best.”
“You’re the one who’s been playing with my hand for the past half an hour,” I tell Jude.
He drops my hand like it’s a hot potato. Five seconds later he picks it up again. “I can’t help myself. It’s fascinating.”
I bite back a smile. “Fascinating?”
He presses his palm against mine, comparing size. Mine’s slightly larger. I curl my fingers down, intertwining with his. The corner of Jude’s lip curls up, then he abruptly pulls away and focuses on his textbook. “I’ve only done two questions,” he mutters.
“I’m sorry my fascinating hands are such a distraction,” I say.
“It’s not your fault.” His eyes don’t leave the page as he underlines a problem with his finger.
I watch him for a bit; the expression he wears is now completely different from his bewilderment this morning as I led him through school. To my surprise, holding his hand wasn’t a big deal at all.
Okay, that might be a lie. Some people stared for a second too long, especially younger Year 7 and 8 students. I know that people will gossip about us, say stuff like, Did you see that those two are dating? I didn’t know they were gay. Some people might go on to say nasty, cruel stuff, but right now, I don’t care.
This morning, when Jude offered to keep us a secret, I knew I had to let go of my fear of what other people think. There was no way I was going to go back to sneaking around with Jude, only sharing stolen moments. Not after everything we’ve gone through.
I’d be smug as hell.The memory makes me want to kiss him right now, in the middle of maths class.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“What?” Jude says, not turning away from what he’s writing with his battery-pen. That ridiculous thing that almost ruined everything, but I’m grateful for it. Without it, things might not have turned out like this.
“Do you wanna make out in my car after school?” I ask.
Slowly, Jude turns to me and gives me the meanest glare I’ve ever seen, though it’s undermined by the pink breaking out across his neck.
“Rule 2: no mentions of kissing or touching or,” — he lowers his voice — “sexwhile at school. It’s distracting.”
“Okay,” I say.
“But to answer your question,” he glances at me before fixing his eyes on his notebook. “Yes.”
