Joseph Loves Juliette

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  David doesn’t speak again, but his eyes are shooting daggers straight through me. If I were a voodoo doll, I’d have pins stuck in very painful places based on the hate emanating from his glare.

  “Let’s go,” the stranger orders.

  I give David one last look and start walking towards the front entrance of the school. I keep my eyes focused downwards as a way of hiding from Principal Pike as we pass each other. I’ve done nothing wrong, but the fact that I may bare some responsibility for the football star’s face looking like a bloody ribeye makes me feel as if I’m in some way culpable.

  As we head back toward the building, my stomach is in knots. The stranger is walking very close to me, yet he seems to be very careful about not taking large steps ahead of me. Our arms brush dangerously close to each other but never touch.

  Still…my skin tingles.

  “Do we know each other?” I ask as we walk inside of the building. More curious than ever as to why a boy like this would take any interest in a girl like me.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No one could never forget a face like yours. So yes, I’m positive that we don’t know each other.”

  My cheeks grow flushed. I’m not very used to compliments, not unless they’re from family members, but I think I could start to get very used to them.

  Several kids are still at school for various after school activities, and they stare almost with awe at us as we pass through the hallway. Without having to say a word, they move completely out of our way, and it’s pretty obvious why.

  The stranger has an ominous presence about him. A dangerous energy which rolls off of him in waves with each calculated stride he takes through the building–yet I don’t think that I’m in any danger. On the contrary, I’ve never felt more protected.

  “Is that it?”

  I’m relieved to open my locker and find my coin purse on the upper shelf inside.

  “Yes.”

  “Good, let’s go. Gonna make sure you get home.”

  The butterflies inside of me start crashing against each other inside of me. I know better than to let some strange guy walk me home. It’s not smart. Plus my brothers would kill me if they found out.

  “Umm, I think I’ll be okay to head home on my own.”

  He shuts my locker door closed.

  “After the shit I saw and heard today, I’m driving you home. End of story.”

  “Driving?”

  That’s an even scarier proposition.

  “My car is in the parking lot.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you.”

  “Then let’s get to know each other.”

  Juliette

  I glance across the hallway and notice that the library only has a few students inside. There’s a particular alcove inside, where I usually like to read, that I think would be a good place for us to sit and away from prying eyes.

  “Let’s go sit in the library.”

  He hesitates for a moment then acquiesces.

  “Okay.”

  “Umm, so did you used to go to this school?”

  “This school?” he scoffs. “Hell, no.”

  “Okay, so I guess you have something against Penn Washington.”

  “I’m a city boy, but now that I’ve met you, I may have to reevaluate my prejudice against the ‘burbs.”

  “We haven’t really met though.”

  “Haven’t we?”

  Every single word he says sets off a tiny little firework inside of me. Something about the way he looks at me and talks to me makes me feel like a spectacular attraction.

  “What’s your name?” I finally ask. A question which I should’ve asked about ten minutes ago.

  “Joseph.”

  A biblical name. My mother would like that.

  Wait–what are you saying, crazy girl?

  “Nice to meet you, Joseph, I’m Juliette.”

  He leans over with a fiercely intense look on his face. “Nice to formally meet you too, Juliette.”

  I get a good whiff of him. He smells subtly of cologne, strength, confidence, and freakin’ wedding bells.

  Oh my God, I’m losing it.

  “Did you by chance have anything to do with David’s busted eye?”

  “David.”

  He repeats the name in a tone filled with malice and venom.

  “Yes, the guy on the ground.”

  “I had everything to fucking do with it.”

  “So you heard everything that was said between us,” I whisper.

  “Yes, I heard everything.”

  Ground. Swallow. Me. Now.

  I hang my head down.

  “Oh.”

  Joseph leans forward and uses his hand to lift my chin up to meet his stone faced gaze.

  “Don’t ever look away from me or anybody else like you’re ashamed, Juliette. You make decisions in this life, you own ‘em. You slept with that dicktard once, but you won’t make that mistake again.”

  My eyes get glassy.

  “But you don’t even know the worst part,” I say.

  “He let a couple of his creepy ass friends watch.”

  “Oh my God, you know about that too?!”

  “People are stupid. They run their mouths about all types of unimportant shit to make their pathetic little lives seem better. It doesn’t matter. Ain’t shit you can do about it now but move on.”

  “You’re right,” I nod my head in agreement. “And I know what he did to me was awful, but I guess what I don’t understand is why you took it upon yourself to get involved?”

  “Because you’re worth it.”

  I swallow nervously.

  “What?”

  “I’m a grown man, on a high school campus, and I assaulted a student. Anything could have happened to me out there, anything could still happen when we leave this building, but I don’t give a damn because you are worth it to me, Juliette. You are worth fighting for. Always remember that.”

  I don’t know what to say to those powerful words. Words that I want to cling to like plastic wrap and keep fresh inside of me forever. Words that I know don’t make a lot of sense considering that he is a complete stranger to me. Words that I should probably run from and not revel in.

  “You don’t know me,” I practically whisper.

  “You keep saying that, but I know all that I need to know. I know that you didn’t deserve what happened to you, and I know that you’re better than him. I can tell. I’m good at reading people. Although a blind man could tell that you are better than that asshat.”

  “Sometimes you speak like you’re a thirty year old man.”

  “Do I?” He chuckles.

  It’s the first real smile I’ve seen him make. He has a captivating smile. An unforgettable smile. And like everything else about him, I’m drawn to it.

  “How old are you, Joseph?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “We have to get to know each other if you’re going to drive me home.”

  “Are you flirting with me right now, Juliette?”

  I swear his voice just dropped an octave.

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “I think we better get going. I’m surprised no one has come in here looking for you yet.”

  “David doesn’t have as many friends as he thinks. I don’t think anyone out there is willing to rat me out after what he’s done.”

  “I don’t think you understand Penn Washington at all. They’re probably laughing about what he did to me and running their mouths about you as we speak. They may have even called the police by now. Kids here are like that.”

  “I understand people, Juliette, and when given the right motivation they seem to do what you want them to do. Trust me, I feel very confident that we’re going to walk out of those doors and into my car with no problem.”

  Umm, okay.

  “So are you ready to let me take you home now?” he asks.

  “Sure.”r />
  “Do we know each other well enough?” he teases.

  “Yes,” I smile almost forgetting about everything that’s happened to me today. If just being around this boy enables me to block out some of the bad, I want to be around him just a bit longer.

  “Let’s go then.”

  Joseph stands up and starts walking towards the exit, and I follow right behind him. My heart racing the entire time. It thumps a few beats because I’m nervous about what could be waiting for him outside of those doors, and a few more beats totally just for how freakin’ hot I think this guy is. I’ve never met anyone like him before, and he literally has my head spinning.

  Where did he come from?

  When we get outside I’m relived to find that the school’s front steps are clear. No students, no principal, and no police. I pause once Joseph approaches a souped up black Camaro and motions to open the door for me. I’ve never been in a car like this. This looks fast and dangerous. My parents drive super safe Volvos.

  “Do we need to talk longer?” he asks sensing my hesitation.

  “I guess we could we talk a bit more while we drive,” I say.

  “Sounds good.”

  We both slide in our seats and he leans over me to reach for my seatbelt.

  “Safety first,” he quips.

  I hold my breath as the back of his hand inadvertently brushes against my breasts as he slides the belt across and fastens me in.

  “And Juliette–let’s make sure to take the long way home.”

  Juliette

  Six Years Later

  It smells like snow. Like we're headed for a blanket of powder all over the beautiful Philadelphia suburb of Penn Washington. The place where my parents call home, and their parents, and as far as my mother is concerned–the place that our entire family are the founding fathers of.

  It’s also the place that I unfortunately have to call home when I’m not away at law school, although my hope is that I never have to move back here permanently.

  My parents are in the middle of planning their annual New Year’s Eve party, and my mother is freaking out about the impending snowstorm.

  Every year the party gets a little larger, the guest lists grows, the decorations become a little more elaborate, and the hors d'oeuvres a little more expensive. All to impress a house full of people my family does business with or wants to do business with.

  Lawyers.

  They're a very particular bunch.

  Elitists. Drunks. Geniuses. Cutthroats.

  Every year, anyone who's anyone in the legal field in the Philadelphia area, comes to our house to brag about what they bought their significant other for Christmas, what their biggest case was for the year, what new car they plan on buying, and what new firm they’re considering working for.

  It’s the same boring crap year after year, but it's in our blood. Every Hill for the last three generations has been a lawyer. Everyone but my youngest brother, but he's a court bailiff, so he's still in that world as far as I'm concerned–although my family begs to differ. They give him a lot of flack about his chosen profession. It's probably why they are riding me so hard.

  Juliette, when are you going to take the bar?

  Juliette, have you been studying?

  Juliette, there's never been a Hill who didn't pass the Pennsylvania bar exam on the first try.

  Gah!

  The only good thing about these parties is that there's going to be lots of liquor. I'm going to need it. The only way not to succumb the rigorous questioning I'm going to have to endure tonight is to get totally and absolutely sloshed.

  I walk over to my father who's hanging up some last minute light strings around the gazebo in the back yard.

  "I'm not sure why you two don't hire someone to do this for you. You're going to break your sweet old neck if you keep this up, daddy,” I say.

  "You make total sense, sweet pea, but you know your mother is a complete control freak. She would just stand there and micromanage whoever she hired, so it's just better if I do it. At least she trusts me." He chuckles.

  "I can go get one of the other step ladders and help you out, dad."

  "Absolutely not, that's what your brothers are for. You're supposed to be inside doing your mother's bidding. You know the routine."

  “Exactly,” I mutter to myself. Then I speak directly to my father. “I know exactly what she wants me to do, and that's why I'm out here.”

  "You can't hide from your mom forever. No one's safe when it comes to The Hill Family Party prep."

  “I see that. She even has you, a court circuit judge, hanging Christmas lights."

  My father stops what he's doing for a moment to ask me a question with a serious look spread across his face.

  “So…there’s a friend of mine coming to the party. He's not from Penn Washington, he’s three years older than you, and his name is Chandler. He said that he'd be willing to help you study for the bar if you were interested."

  I shoot my father a look of bewilderment.

  "Has it come to this? My dad is fixing me up on dates now.“

  “Not at all, Juliette. This is not a date. The bar is not an easy exam. I think that you may be taking it too lightly. Chandler has spent the last two years helping other law students pass it. He's got a way with remembering terms, laws, and statutes that's remarkable.”

  “Can he show me how to get a photographic memory?" I jest. “Because that's the only way I'm going to remember half of the information that I need to pass this thing."

  “You were never a good test taker."

  "Thanks a lot, dad."

  “I’m just saying. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Just because you have to work harder at passing the examination doesn’t make you any less intelligent or incapable. You will be an amazing lawyer. You're a Hill after all."

  "That's true, I am,” I say in agreement–ready to leave the backyard and this conversation in the worst way. I was completely over it before it even began. It's all anyone wants to talk to me about.

  The bar.

  The bar.

  The bar.

  "I'll introduce you two at the party,” he says while clumsily climbing down the ladder. “His name is Chandler Branson.”

  There was no use in objecting. Resistance is futile when it comes to my parents’ determination to make me a lawyer. One is a social climber (mom) and the other a cutthroat lawyer and judge (dad) who only cares about work and the family legacy.

  "All right, dad. I'll meet him to see if there's anything he can do to help my fried brain absorb information better. Your sons were certainly no help. It was like teaching me to ride a bike all over again. Complete failure.“

  Almost every member of my family who’s a lawyer has already tried to help me study for the bar. Seeing that I've already failed it once, my father is resorting to turning to strangers now. Strangers that he considers are dating material as well.

  Truly pitiful.

  Those he’s not from Penn Washington and he's three years older than you comments that my father made were to let me know that Chandler is a viable candidate for marriage. My parents are definitely old school in some respects. While they want me to carve out my own career in law, they’ve also made it crystal clear that they expect me to get married and give them a bunch of grandkids sooner rather than later.

  They want a whole lot don’t they?

  After my father finishes climbing down from the ladder, I interlock my arm with his and we walk back into the house where my mom is sorting through stemware.

  “Are the lights up?” she asks my father in a curt manner. It’s all business when she’s planning this party.

  “Yes, dear.”

  “Has it started snowing yet?”

  “No, dear. I think the meteorologists just needed something to talk about today. I don’t think there’s any snow coming.”

  Yet I don’t agree.

  A storm or something akin to one is definitely coming.

 
I can feel it.

  Joseph

  I give myself a good long look in the mirror as I tighten the slipknot of my favorite silk tie. For the first time in my life, I’m dressed in a thousand dollar Ralph Lauren suit and a pair of Italian made shoes, and while I really like how I look in them–I love even more how I feel in them.

  Like a million fucking bucks.

  “Let’s go, Joseph.”

  “Yep, I’m ready.”

  I’ve spent the better part of the last five years establishing myself as the number one problem solver for my employer, Lawyer Jack Mills. I started working for his firm as an assistant in the mailroom when Jack noticed my work ethic and my desire to move up in the company.

  I remember him taking a long look at my hands, specifically my knuckles (which were worn and swollen from kicking some guy’s ass at a bar the previous night) and asked me if I wanted a job outside of the mailroom.

  My supervisor had held his position for over thirteen years, and while that was a good gig for a guy like him, there was no way that I wanted to end up permanently delivering mail to lawyers for the rest of my life.

  “We’ll see how you handle yourself.” I remember Jack saying. “And if you solve my problem, you’ll never have to work in the mailroom again.”

  I knew as soon as the words flew out of his mouth that this was the opportunity that I’d been waiting for. This was my ticket out of delivering manilla envelopes all day and into Jack’s world of corporate law with real businessmen. While I wasn’t a lawyer, and didn’t have the smarts, the money, nor the desire to become one–I wanted a better life. That I knew for sure. And Jack was my ticket there.

  So he hired me to make a paternity suit go away for a client who had always been a huge headache for him. He was a local newscaster. A big deal in Philadelphia. He’d been an anchor on the local news for most of my life, and he’d gotten a woman pregnant outside of his marriage.

  She worked as a receptionist at the station, and made it clear that she would tell anyone who would listen that she was pregnant with his child if he didn’t leave his wife. Well, that was never going to happen, and pretty soon she realized it, so she hired a lawyer. She was going to file a lawsuit against him and sue him publicly for all types of shit including child support. It was my job to change her mind about that.