The J Project

by Karli James

  This girl…never went to prom? What bullshit is this? I know she’s not the only kid to never have gone to prom but sweet hell, what? I took high school for granted, I guess. Highschool was effortless for me. I just existed and shit happened. Happy times. While my little K felt awkward, and unpopular, and why is this bothering me so much? High school was a long time ago. However, I think maybe this little boo bear might still feel like the kid she was in high school sometimes; a bit awkward, unpopular, a little lonely. I’ll touch base with her on that later. Like when I’ve been back in her good graces longer than two point five seconds.

  Okay, okay…so she likes her wine. Mental note.

  She likes Chinese food. Another mental note.

  What’s this? Oh shit…this chick likes me and she doesn’t even know it yet. Like she knows it, but she doesn’t know it. She doesn’t get it. Girl, it’s like this with us because YOU ARE MOTHERFUCKING IT! I don’t tell her that, calm your tits. I realize how absolutely absurd I am, but hey. I’m a romantic guy, and when you know, you know.

  Thing is, I can picture her grin now. Now that I’ve seen her up close and personal. I can imagine her grin as we’re texting. How it does that slow spread and gives me time to lean in to see those freckles dance across her nose and the swell of her cheekbones. Slowly throughout this bantering, which isn’t quite where it was pre meet and greet, but still delightful, she comes back. Slow and steady and wonderfully sassy. I see her shine through those witty comebacks, but more than that she showed me a bit of vulnerability that I won’t forget. I wonder if…wait I’m just going to ask her.

  Jude: I know high school was a long time ago, and I’m sure there have been other opportunities since prom, but I have to ask. Have you ever slow danced with a guy?

  Kara: Normally I would be kind of offended by this question seeing as how I’m twenty-eight, and you’re right—there should have been other opportunities for me to have slow danced with a guy. However, I’m this moment years old when I’ve realized that, no. I haven’t slow danced with a man. Well other than my dad, and that doesn’t count.

  I’m a bit slack jawed at her confession. How has she gone this long without some guy really showing her true romance? Sweeping her off her feet? Kara deserves to be swept. And not under a damn rug. Basic things that people share inside romantic relationships she’s yet to even experience? I’m a bit floored.

  Who the hell has she been dating? Having sex with? Has she been having sex? I mean I assumed…but maybe I shouldn’t have. Slow dancing is like sex without penetration, if you’re doing it right. Oh man…what if she…what if she still has an intact hymen? I realize that’s a long way around saying virgin, but I don’t want to say it or think it because I want to bone this girl, and you can’t just bone a virgin. I mean I want to bone her with feelings of course, but still. Damn, have I ever been with a virgin? I wasn’t with one even when I was one. That Shelly had already made her way around. Balls. I’m getting ahead of myself. Surely, she’s lost her V card along the way.

  Jude: While I simply don’t understand who the frig you have been dating, I promise you, at some point the no dancing thing will be rectified.

  Kara: Oh yeah? Is my BFF also going to be my wingman?

  What’s that now? Is she…she’s shitting me, right?

  Kara: I’m messing with you.

  Jude: I’m not even going to respond to that bullshit. But you know what you did. Expect payback. But yes, despite your recent attitude I will rectify the lack of slow dancing in your life when we get past the textship stage.

  Kara: Well. Teenage me thanks you in advance.

  Jude: Woman…no, I’m not even going to say it. You’re welcome, BFF!

  Kara: No say it. You can’t do that. I can’t freaken stand when people do that. FINISH IT!

  Jude: When we slow dance, it won’t be a damn thing like high school, sweetheart.

  Kara: Hmm. Okay. I guess you’ll have to prove it to me some day.

  Umm. Hell. Yes. I will more than prove it to this girl, in any and all ways possible.

  Jude: It will be my honor. Also. This is forward but now I have to know because it’s kind of driving me crazy with wonder, but…are you…you’re not…have you slow danced with a man on a mattress…?

  There’s a pause. I more than likely just fucked this all up again.

  Kara: LMAO! You’re such a ridiculous ass. I am NOT a virgin if that’s what you’re asking me. NOT. Very much NOT.

  Well damn, okay. I got it. No reason to sound so slutty about it.

  Jude: Oh ok. I mean. Good. That’s good.

  Kara: Yeah, it is. For me.

  Jude: Absolutely. Good for you. Kudos! Sex kudos, all for you. Only you.

  Kara: Jude? Just stop. You’re fine. I’m not mad you asked. I’m giving you shit.

  Jude: I like this textship.

  Kara. Dittos.

  Jude: That makes me want Doritos.

  Kara: Same.

  I burst out laughing because we are so stupid. The perfect stupid. I can’t help it. I don’t want this to end. This texting and laughing and peeling back more layers, but I look at my phone and it’s glaring one a.m. at me and I have to get up and really put in some work on my book tomorrow because…deadlines. And bills. And money.

  Jude: Kar…I hate to, but I should say goodnight. I need to sleep, and so should you because it’s late, and I need you sharp for more rounds of textshipping tomorrow.

  Kara: Damn, it is so late. I didn’t realize. You’re a bad influence. I texted you with ONE question, to get ONE answer, and look what’s happened? I can’t trust myself with you.

  Loaded. Statement. I’m not even going to graze the trigger on that. Nope. Not tonight. But basically if I wanted to graze the trigger I would say, “It’s because we’re basically perfect for each other,” but I won’t say that because I like this girl and I just got out of the dog house and into a bit of a friend-zone. I’m embracing this friend zone though; so hard. I’m allowing it to wrap me up like an old Italian Nonnie whose bosom is suffocating the very breath from my lungs, however I don’t care because fuck if it doesn’t feel peaceful and happy and secure and good. Like home.

  Jude: Better luck tomorrow then? Perhaps you will be able to resist further conversation after asking me just ONE question.

  Kara: Is that a dare?

  Jude: If you think you can handle asking me just one question, getting one answer, and maybe only giving one response all day, I will do something amazing for you, without you having to even see me.

  Kara: Ooooh, a challenge. You’re on. But if I fail at this mission?

  Jude: If you fail Kara…then I get to describe to you in perfect detail how I want to kiss you.

  What am I doing, right now? What am I saying? I’m an idiot.

  Kara: Isn’t a kiss just a kiss? How do you describe it?

  Is she…stop it.

  Jude: No for real girl, WHO YOU BEEN DATING?! Stop it. I hope you lose, just so I can do this.

  Kara: Well, I’m pretty stubborn, and I hate losing. So, hold on tight to these messages. Tomorrow gonna be a slow day, bud.

  Jude: Dammit, Kara.

  Kara: Good night Jude.

  Jude: Night.

  The next morning I wake up late, of course. Thank God I work for myself. I stumble to the coffee pot, and hit the brew button. I am oh so thankful I remembered to set this up for myself last night. It’s like a little present I give to myself each morning; a little pat on the back of coffee encouragement. Like “Hey man, you got this! Try to suck less today!” No problemo. Only I’m talking to myself, or the coffee, or both…does it matter? I’m shot.

  I go back in the bedroom, grab my phone and realize I have a new text from Kara already. Dang, she’s starting early. I likey.

  Kara: Okay, here’s my one question: What are your parents like?

  Oh hell. I wasn’t expecting this. Okay, well. Shit.

  Jude: I’m just getting my coffee, and this is actually a pretty big convo
to have on my end, so bear with me as I wipe the grit out of my eyes, suck down some caffeine and gather myself before I answer.

  Kara: Take your time. I’m sorry, should I ask something else?

  Me: No. We’re BFFs…I tell my BFF everything.

  Kara: When you’re ready. No rush.

  This girl.

  Jude: Okay, so…here’s the deal. My dad is the best ever, still around, and loves to work on old cars, which he does a lot more now that he’s retired. My mom…well, my mom bailed when I was eight, Nina was four. She just decided that we as a family, weren’t what she wanted. She wasn’t cut out for it, ever. She was never that loving or affectionate that I can remember, and then one day she just packed a suitcase, looked at us a little bit sorry, but mostly relieved and hightailed it out of there. My dad…he never really recovered. He was a great dad, always, but he never had a sparkle in his eyes again after that. My dad’s sister, Aunt Lily, she stepped in and really took over playing mom for me and Neens. She was all the mom we ever needed, and I clung to her and never really felt as sad as I should have about Alice leaving. Truthfully, even at eight you know when someone doesn’t love you. Instead of feeling crushed by that knowledge I think I also felt relieved that she was gone so I didn’t have to pretend I loved her either.

  I stare at my phone, waiting for some kind of response to that ridiculously long, semi heavy back story to my life. I mean it’s fine, right? Everyone shares this kind of family drama over text, with a girl you’ve got a heart-on for (see what I did there) approximately five minutes after winning a place back in her life, right? Right? I’m fine.

  My phone vibrates, and I look up to the ceiling in a silent prayer that she hasn’t just decided to pull an Alice, and walk away because she can’t handle my crap.

  Kara: Daaaaammmmn, son.

  That was her only response; and I fell a bit harder. I grinned, and before I realized it, I was full-on belly laughing. This girl just might be my match made in ridiculousness. Sure, I won’t get to describe to her my perfect kiss, and really show off my romance writing skills, but it was perfect. Will I miss talking to her all day? Yes. So much yes. However, I love that she didn’t gush with a giant, flowery, sappy, “I’m so sorry” response. I hate those responses because all they do is evoke guilt in my veins due to the fact that I truly do not feel any major loss about Alice leaving. She made her choice, I turned out fine, and Aunt Lily…aww man, sweet Aunt Lily? Nina and I had the best.

  Sure, our mom didn’t want to be a mom, but our Aunt never let us feel that loss because she was too busy feeding us, cleaning us, taking us to school, doing homework, tucking us in, laughing with us, loving us. We were blessed, and I’m not one to hold onto the past and blame a less than perfect future on what happened way back when. That’s not living; that’s lying.

  Kara gave me exactly what I needed with that response; fantastic, witty humor. No pity. And at 12:00 a.m. on the dot I will be texting her fine ass.

  Chapter 8

  Kara

  I can’t believe the only thing I texted him was “Daaaaammmmn, son.” I’ll take questions Chandler Bing would ask for a thousand please Alex: Could I BE any lamer?

  He never responded; I didn’t text again. I’m hoping we’re both just sticking to the deal and that he’s not personally offended by my lack of sympathy, because first of all…WHAT THE ACTUAL? Did I instantly feel a bit sad thinking of a boy looking at his mom with her bags packed and heading out the door? Yes. However, mostly, I felt angry. Who the hell does that? My parents are divorced, and I definitely didn’t have a one hundred percent perfect childhood. However, I have two loving parents that even though they couldn’t hang with each other, they never made me or my brother feel like we were the problem; they loved us through and through and I never had to question that.

  Fuck Alice. I mean he may not say it, but truly, fuck her. I’ll get over it eventually. I guess.

  I’m not working tonight because Stir Mix-A-Lot is closed for some construction the owner is doing on the bar, and while I normally love a night off, it’s been amazingly quiet and putting me on edge. Nothing to distract me from the lack of texting with Jude. It’s almost midnight. If I text him at midnight, am I breaking the deal? I don’t want to break the deal. I don’t want that kiss description. Not. Ready. My vajeen might be ready, but that’s precisely why I can’t read, or imagine what his lips would feel like on mine. Where would his hands be? Face? Hair? Back? All of it? I can’t think about it because he’s just too much.

  Jude has more of a build to him than it seemed over pictures; that sexy kind of build where it was obtained organically. Like maybe he goes out and chops wood in his spare time. He’s a writer, so clearly, he must work out to keep his physique, but I won’t lie that I’m enjoying this image of a woodsy Jude. I like imagining him out there with an axe, chopping shit up and then coming back home like, “Hey no bigs, got you some firewood with a side of me. Smelling like fresh air and mountains, a hint of sweat. Oh, hey also, I have more wood in my pants.” I’m an asshole. I need to knock it off. I can’t be thinking about all the different kinds of woods that Jude has.

  I probably should have some wine now. I get up, head to the kitchen and pull down a glass. I think I’ll go with a refreshing white tonight, a little Pinot Grigio if I may. Pour, sip, ahhh. Life is good. Surely there’s something for me to watch on Netflix, right? I mean what did I do prior to this textship? I had to have been doing something? Anything? Working, but what ELSE DID I DO? I’m ridic- *ping* - my phone just went off. I leap across the room like my phone is actually a life preserver and I’m going to die if I do not get to it, immediately. And then I grin, as I notice the time is 12:00 a.m., and Jude’s name is lit up on the screen like a glorious Christmas tree.

  Jude: It’s a new day, and hate to sound desperate BFF, but this textship is actually only fun when we’re actually texting.

  I’m laughing at how uncool he is with all his feels, and decide to let my own guard down for at least a second to respond in kind.

  Kara: Yes, please. I was starting to feel insecure with the lack of convo. I was afraid my one and only response was the exact opposite of how I should have responded. Are we good? I really hope I didn’t piss you off.

  Jude: Oh, you little, Presh, no. I was not mad. That was THE perfect response. I wish everyone would respond that way so I could just be like, ‘I know right?” high five it and move it along.

  Kara: Lol, you’re amazingly cool about your past, I’ll give you that. So, are we back to more questions? I really hope we can go back to more than one a day because I feel like there’s so much more to still learn about each other.

  Jude: Of course, BFF! Ask away. Tell me your all your shit. Also did you miss me today? Is that even okay to ask? Whatever. I missed you, Presh.

  Kara: You’re killing me with this ‘Presh’ business. However, yes, I will admit I missed texting with you today. Also, my day was boring. Literally did nothing because the bar was closed. I basically lazed around, ate some things, now…try not to be shocked, but I’m drinking some wine.

  Jude: Oooh, wine. What kind? Just kidding, I won’t have any clue if it’s red or white or good or not. I’m more beer and liquor. I can’t believe you didn’t text me without having anything to distract you! You’re pure steel.

  Kara: I love all the alcohols. Wine, beer, liquor. Oooh pure steel? Maybe that should be my nickname.

  Jude: No can do, Presh.

  Kara: You. Are. Ridick.

  Jude: RiDICK? I’m trying not to be an asshole here, but you say things like that, and I just don’t know how the twelve-year-old inside of me is supposed to resist all of the innuendo that’s just been…laid…wide…open. See!

  Kara: Your face is wide open for innuendo.

  Jude: Wait…are you drunk right now? What is happening? Who are you? I’m Jude, nice to meet you. I like you.

  Kara: You’re so easy—pun intended.

  Jude: You’re playing with fire Kara.
/>   Kara: Am I though?

  Jude: You. Have. No. Idea. Put the wine down, I don’t want you to feel badly about yourself tomorrow when you realized you were the one who started a sextual conversation.