by Dover, L. P.
Jude places a few dollars for tip on the table and nods toward the sidewalk. “Ready to go?”
I stand and grab my bookbag. “Yep, let’s go.”
As we’re walking down the sidewalk back to campus, something catches my attention. There’s a big sign, covered in pictures of sliced watermelon with the words Watermelon Festival on it. Mouth gaping, I grab my chest. “Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it.”
Jude follows my line of sight and smiles. “Happens every year. You should know that.”
“I know, but I forgot about it. We used to have so much fun at it.” We slowly walk by the big sign and my heart jumps with excitement. The festival is tomorrow. “Do they still have the funnel cakes I love?”
“Yep,” Jude says with a laugh. “I get one every year.” Then he looks over at me. “Want to go? It’ll be fun.”
Yes. Yes. Yes.
“I’d love to,” I say, trying not to sound overly enthusiastic.
When we get to the parking lot, he follows me over to my car. “Do you want me to pick you up or meet you there?” he asks.
Never before have I been nervous around him, but I am now. It’s the butterflies in the stomach kind of feeling. It’s strange because I’ve never had those types of feelings for Jude before.
“You can pick me up if you want. I’ll text you my address.”
We exchange numbers and he pockets his phone, his eyes searching mine. I’ve known him a long time and I can tell he wants to say something, but instead, he takes a step back. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” He smiles once more, and I watch him get into a black Jeep and drive away. Once he’s gone, I pull out my phone and call my sister.
“Hey, sis,” she answers. “How did your first day go?”
I get in my car and laugh. “Let’s just say it was a blast from the past. You’ll never guess who’s one of my professors.”
A few seconds pass and she giggles. “I have no freaking clue. Who? You got me curious.”
I let a few more seconds pass in suspense. “Jude Daniels. Can you believe it?”
She squeals so loud it hurts my ears. “Holy shit, that’s insane! What are the odds of that?”
“Exactly. It felt so good seeing him again.”
“It should,” she exclaims. “I’ve always told you what I thought about him.”
“And what was that?” I already know the answer, and I’ve thought about it millions of times over the years.
She snorts. “Duh. That he’s the one you were supposed to be with. Now you can make it right.”
Closing my eyes, I let that sink in. Maybe it’s time we do make things right.
4
Jude
I wake panting, completely out of breath. The continuous whoosh of the ceiling fan keeps rhythm with each inhale and exhale I take and give. It takes me a moment to gather my bearings. My hand slides across to the empty side of my queen-sized mattress. It’s cold and vacant, despite what my dream and memories are telling me.
It’s been years since I’ve dreamed of Laura… like that or in any way, really. At first, after she cut off all communication, I used to have nightmares about her, and us. We’d be running through the forest, side by side, until I couldn’t see her anymore. I’d search for her but to no avail and when I woke, I’d be much like I am now, out of breath. The only exception this time is, I’m rock hard, there wasn’t a forest, and I have very detailed and graphic images of her in my mind, straddling my lap.
My hand reaches under my blankets and into the waistband of my shorts, confirming what I already know. For the first time since probably the seventh or eighth grade, I’ve had a wet dream.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter as I throw the covers back and set my bare feet on the hardwood floor. I lean toward the lamp on my nightstand and twist the little black dial to illuminate my room. A quick glance over my shoulder confirms everything—the sticky shit I felt on my dick has definitely left a giant wet spot on my sheets. I have no choice but to strip my bed. I do this quickly and fling my boxers onto the pile and carry the items to my washer and throw them in. My next stop—the shower.
After I turn on the water, I step in, not caring if the water is warm or not. I need to wake-up even though it’s three in the morning. There is no way I’m going back to sleep. Laura is at the forefront of my mind and I’d rather spend as much time as I can thinking about her before we spend time together today.
I don’t know what I was thinking when I asked her to stay after class. At first, I wanted to be a total prick and tell her to transfer, tell her that if she stayed, I’d flunk her. But as I watched her approach me, every bad thought I had disappeared. Before me, was the one I let get away. I put our friendship first and thought we were building a foundation. And then the summer of our sophomore year in college came, and so did Shawn. I could tell immediately she was into him. I welcomed him, treated him like a friend. I had no idea he was going take my best friend away from me.
When Laura cut off all ties, I knew it was because of Shawn and not something she decided on her own. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body and wouldn’t say boo if you paid her. He, on the other hand, was that guy everyone either liked or hated. The one that would walk down the hall, make fun of someone, and get everyone around him to do the same. I loathe people like him.
The water finally turns warm and I start to relax. There’s so much tension in my shoulders and back that I do everything I can to loosen up. Still, as my fingers dig into my skin, flashbacks of my dream about Laura flood my mind. I don’t get where these visions are coming from. I’ve never seen her naked, let alone kissed her. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to, it’s that I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship. Maybe if I had—because the opportunities were there many, many times—things would be different between us.
I give up on the shower when the water turns cold again. I’m tempted to see if I can get another hour of sleep in the guest bedroom, but ultimately decide the couch is better. I slip into a clean pair of boxers and make my way downstairs. Soon, the weather is going to change, and I’ll have the woodstove going to keep the cabin warm. Until then, I pull a throw blanket from the decorative basket my mother set near the couch and cover up with it. I turn the television on and flip through the channels. There’s a ton of infomercials, trying to sell me beauty products, household cleaners, and machines meant to tighten my buttocks to make them firm. Pass, pass, and thanks but no thanks. I finally settle on a classic TV channel, turn down the volume and close my eyes. I figure the background noise will be enough to keep my naughty visions of Laura at bay.
No such luck.
I end up staring at the television until it’s time to get moving. I never told Laura what time I’d pick her up and I’m assuming she doesn’t have class today or she would’ve told me so, and I never thought to ask. Although, knowing Laura, she would skip class just to go to the Watermelon Festival. It used to be our favorite thing to do, and always on opening day. That’s when the funnel cakes are the biggest and the watermelon is the freshest.
Now that I’m awake, I transfer my wash into the dryer, get dressed and send Laura a text while I make myself some breakfast and a pot of coffee.
Hello, Laura. It’s Jude. I wanted to check and see if you still wanted to go to the festival today, and if so, what time? I forgot to ask if you had classes today.
Every second I wait increases my anxiety and I don’t know why. She said she wants to go, and I told her I’d pick her up, which reminds me, I’ll need her address as well. I have to set my phone down because it’s like a watched pot and I know if I sit here and wait for it to ring, it never will.
I’m away from the table for a couple seconds when my phone chimes. I rush back, like a teenage boy getting that first call from his crush and gouge my thigh on the corner of my kitchen table.
“Son of a southern fried chicken biscuit,” I say aloud. My censorship game is usually reserved for the classroom.
Laura Parrish: Hey
, Jude… No classes today, pick me up whenever you’re ready. I live in the apartments across from the main entrance, 5b!
I’m on my way. I text back, even though I’m not anywhere near being ready. I should comb my unruly hair or at least stop for a haircut at one of those drop-in places, but truthfully, I’m eager to see her, to have her next to me. It’s been a long time since we’ve been together like this.
The drive down the mountain happens in record time. I think I only came off four wheels once or twice, maybe three times when I took a curve a bit too sharply and at a high rate of speed, but no one was around to witness my atrocious and highly dangerous driving. When I reach solid pavement, I breathe a sigh of relief. I can’t recall a single time I ever drove like a maniac down that road.
“Not too bright,” I mutter as I pull up to the stop light. I glance to my right and notice a student of mine. I turn away before she has a chance to make eye contact. The last thing I want is for her or anyone for that matter to start some rumor about my crazy driving techniques.
Once the signal changes, I turn and head toward Laura’s apartment. I’m thankful she lives so close to the school and to me for that matter. As soon as I pull into the parking lot, I find a spot and park. I’m about to shut off the engine when I see her emerge. This is the moment when I can watch her without looking like a stalker or a creepy professor eyeing his way too hot student. Laura’s wearing blue shorts, probably denim if I had to guess. They don’t look like the shorty short shorts she used to wear back in the day, but they’re similar and they show off her long legs. She descends the stairs and I catch the slight sway of her hips. I swallow hard as she approaches. I think I like this older Laura.
As soon as her T-shirt comes into view, I laugh and shake my head. There’s a slice of watermelon on her shirt and it reads, “Y’all gonna make me lose my rind.” I’m so enthralled with her shirt that I completely forget to get out and open her door for her.
“I’m sorry,” she says just as I blurt out, “Shit.”
“Sorry, I should’ve opened the door for you.”
Laura laughs and hops into the Jeep. “I’m fully capable of opening the door. Besides, I saw you checking out my melons… I mean melon.” She looks down at her shirt, blushing. She’s right, I was.
We make small talk as I drive us to the fairgrounds. Laura catches me up on her parents and I tell her about mine. Both sets seem to be fairing the same: living the retired life. We avoid her divorce and my ex, which is for the best. They’re both sore subjects. Mostly with me.
By the time we reach the parking lot, we have to park toward the back. “I had no idea it would be this packed.”
“Liar,” Laura says. “It’s always this busy on day one or have you forgotten?”
Nope, just not sure what to say around you. “Must’ve spaced it,” I say.
We get out and Laura comes around the front to meet me, as we walk toward the pay booth. I have my wallet out and am handing the attendant cash before Laura can pay for herself.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says.
“I invited you, remember?” I wink and take her hand to lead her toward the funnel cake stand. We are five or six people deep in line when she suggests the most asinine thing to me.
“Hey, Jude,” she says in her sing song voice. It’s a clear indication that I’m about to say yes to whatever she’s about to say.
“Laura.”
“What do you think about entering the watermelon eating contest?”
“I think you’re about to get a funnel cake.”
She grips my arm and bounces up and down on her toes. “Let’s do it. We have nothing to lose.”
“Dignity.” I point out. “I’m a professor at the college. What if my students film me and put me on Tik Tak and I go viral?”
“First, it’s Tok not tak and if you do, all your students will think you’re a bad ass.”
Laura makes me laugh. It’s the deep bellowing, come from the bottom of your gut, make your sides hurt laugh. I haven’t laughed like this in years. I look at her. Big mistake. Her lower lip is jutted out and she’s batting those emerald green eyes of hers.
I nod even though she already knows she won. I can’t believe in a matter of hours, the Laura I knew and loved is back and I’m right there lapping up every bit of attention.
Laura orders her funnel cake and shares it with me as we walk toward the watermelon eating contest. Of course, when we enter the staging area, Tim McGraw’s “Watermelon Crawl” is playing over the loudspeaker.
“Well if this song doesn’t bring back memories.” I bump Laura’s hip with mine and smile.
“Personally, I always preferred Kid Rock’s “All Summer Long.””
“That’s because you had a crush on him, which I will never ever understand.” I shake my head. “Do you still prefer guys with long hair?”
We come to a stop and wait our turn to fill out the registration form. I use this time to look at her. She has some powdered sugar on her cheek, so I wipe it off. Her breath catches and I stay as stoic as possible.
“I think I prefer guys with crazy, just got out of bed hair,” she says quietly.
My hand pauses. Would that be me?
“Next.”
The nasally voice calling for us pulls my attention away from Laura. I fill out the form and pay the fee. We’re told the rules. There are many rounds, we get free admission if we win, final contest is on Sunday. Got it.
Laura and I take our seats. There are ten of us at the table with heaping slices of watermelon. There is no way we’re going to win, but I don’t care. We’re doing this together. At the sound of the horn, we start eating.
The best thing about watermelon, it’s water. And it takes a lot to fill someone up. I manage to chomp down a slice with two, sometimes three bites. I always keep a full rind in my free hand, so I don’t lose focus.
When the timer sounds, I stuff what I have left in my hand into mouth and throw the rind down into the pile. I lean back and groan. “Holy crap that was a lot of melon.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Laura says as she covers her mouth and her eyes go wide.
“I’ll laugh if you puke.”
“That’s mean,” she mumbles from behind her hand.
I shrug. “You made us do this.”
Laura leans her head into my shoulder and as if it’s second nature, I put my arm around her and pull her toward my chest. “Are you really going to be sick?” She shakes her head, which is relief.
When the results are read, Laura and I have come in second, which means we may or may not have to come back. Honestly, I hope not because I’m not sure I can eat another slice of watermelon.
Like in the past, I take her hand as we walk around the fair. When I see the ring toss game and the giant stuffed animals, I drag her toward it, expecting her to want one of the animals. That’s how things used to be with us, and right now I want her to remember the good times we used to have.
I hand five bucks over the game attendant and take my bucket of rings. I haven’t done this in years, but it should be second nature.
“You got this, Jude.”
“Thanks.”
It just takes one.
Actually, it takes eight, but that eighth one is the most satisfying as it loops around the bottle and stays there. Laura is jumping up and down before I realize I’ve won.
“Which one do you want?”
Laura points to the giant teddy bear holding a heart. The worker climbs up onto the table, reaches for the bear, and hands it to Laura. Both the bear and Laura hug me. “Best day ever,” she says into my ear.
After another hour of games, in which I’ve won three more stuffed animals for Laura, we finally decide to call it a day. When we get to the Jeep, I take the bear and buckle him into the backseat. He’d be a good carpool buddy if I put a hat on him and dressed him up a bit.
When we get back to Laura’s, my heart sinks at the fact that our day is over. “Do
you have plans tomorrow?”
“No, why?”
I shrug, trying to keep things as nonchalant as possible. “I was thinking of going for a hike and didn’t know if you wanted to head to the fire tower with me?”
“I’ll pack the picnic,” she says with a smile.
I help Laura take her friends up to her apartment. She invites me in, and I bask in the idea of being surrounded by everything that is her. “Where does he go?”
“The chair is fine.” I set him down and look around her apartment. It’s cute, homey and very Laura. She comes to stand next me and places her arms around my waist.
“I had the best day, Jude.”
“Me too, Laura.” I press my lips to her hair and inhale. Oh, how I’ve missed her. I’m not sure how long we stay like that but neither of us are willing to let go. I start to hum her favorite song, “All Summer Long,” Laura looks at me, her green eyes locking on mine. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve never cut you out of my life.”
I smile softly and move her hair behind her ear. “You’re here now. Just promise me you won’t ever leave.”
“Never again, Jude. I promise.”
She keeps her eyes locked on mine. Our bodies are pressed together, swaying to nothing but our own heartbeats. I can’t remember the last time my heart raced like this, but after the dream I had about her, the way I’m feeling with her in my arms, I know if I don’t do something, I may regret it later.
“I’m going to try something.”
“Yes, please,” she says as she rises up on her tippy toes and presses her lips to mine.
5
Laura
“I bet you wanted to do a whole lot more than just kiss, right?” Anna teases. She stares at me with her all too knowing brown eyes. Looking at her, she reminds me of myself when I was her age, young and full of life. She may be twelve years younger than me, but she’s smart.