“Bleh,” he made a face, gagging for extra effect, “I don’t do sour. Only sweet. That’s why I like you.”
I shook my head and looked out the window once more, my bad mood instantly returning. I didn’t like it when Jude said stuff like that. I di
dn’t want him to pursue me, or even actually like me as a person. I hated him, so I didn’t deserve his attention.
I started to laugh to myself, because up until a moment ago, Jude and I were having a civil conversation. I hadn’t been thinking about what he’d done to me—how he ruined my life—and he’d just been any other guy. I wished he could stay that way. I didn’t like all this hate bottled up inside me. Anger was like a poison, slithering through your veins and tainting the things you did and said. He deserved my hate for what he did, for what he caused, but the hate was only hurting me and not him. I’d lived with it for so many years I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to let it go.
We arrived at the nursing home and I followed him inside. He pulled an ID badge out of his pocket and fixed it to his shirt. The doors slid open and the smell that accompanied every medical building assaulted me. It was one of my least favorite smells—sterile and lifeless.
“Hi Trudy,” Jude greeted the older woman behind the desk. “You’re looking more beautiful than usual today. Did you do something to your hair?” She immediately turned into a swooning and blushing teenager. My God was I the only female that was immune to his charms? Get it together people. He wasn’t that good-looking and he was downright annoying.
“I did,” she batted her eyelashes, “I curled it.”
“It looks good,” he grinned. “Who am I seeing today?”
She handed him a chart and then looked at me. “Who are you?”
“Oh, uh, I’m here with him. He’s helping me with a, uh, paper,” I stammered. It wasn’t like me to act that way but I didn’t want this woman to get the impression that I was his girlfriend and we’d be sneaking off to the nearest broom closet.
She looked to Jude. “Is this true?”
Jude grinned and leaned against her desk so he could talk to her and watch me at the same time. “Look at her face, Trudy. Does that look like the face of someone that would lie to you?”
“Um…”
“Don’t worry,” he continued, “sadly, she is telling the truth. I wish I could tell you that she’s here because she loves me so much she can’t bear to live a moment without me in her sight. But Trudy,” he frowned, putting a hand to his heart and fake tears pooling in his eyes, “sweet Tatum here does not feel that way about me. No matter how hard I try, she does not want to be my lover. It has left me broken hearted and I’m only left with the hope that helping her with this paper will somehow make her see that she’s the girl I’m going to marry.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Trudy reached out, patting his hand. Her gaze swiveled to me and she glared like I was an evil wench for breaking Jude’s heart. I had news for her; he didn’t have a heart to break. If he did, he wouldn’t have destroyed my life. To me she said, “Don’t get in any trouble.”
Me? Trouble? That was laughable.
“See you later, Trudy,” Jude leaned over and kissed the older woman’s cheek before scampering away. Her blush from earlier deepened and she reached up to touch her cheek. “Come on, Tate.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grumbled, trailing after him as I dug a pen and paper from my backpack.
“If I can’t call you that, can I at least call you Tater Tot? Or maybe just Tater?”
I kicked the back of his knee and he stumbled.
“I assume that’s a no then,” he chuckled, straightening his scrubs.
“You bet your ass that’s a no,” I muttered. I scribbled the date in my notebook and then pointed to the clipboard he held as we walked down the hall. “So, I’m guessing you visit different patients when you’re here?”
He nodded, suddenly becoming all business. “It’s a rotation and they mix it up. They want us to get a feel for different issues patients face, since there’s such a wide variety.”
He glanced down at his chart and stopped in front of a door. Looking over his shoulder at me, he waggled his brows. “Showtime.”
???
By the time Jude dropped me back off at school to get my car, I had a new respect for nurses and all medical personnel. They had to deal with some crappy stuff, all with a smile on their face. Remembering the Jude I’d known in high school—yes, I’d been subjected to attending the same high school as the douchebag—I couldn’t believe he was willingly taking care of people. It didn’t seem like him. If someone had asked me back then what I thought Jude would be when he grew up, I probably would’ve replied with gigolo. I hated to admit it, but Jude was surprising me. It didn’t mean I was starting to like him though. It would take far more than his career choice to change my opinion of him.
Chapter Three
I hated weekends.
Weekends, for most college seniors, probably meant studying with a little fun time thrown in.
There was no fun time for me—hadn’t been in a long time.