Yeah, I totally went there because he is a freakin stranger, just showing up out of the blue.
He laughs, "Judson said you were tenacious. He wasn't joking."
He shoves his ID in my face with a Cheshire Cat grin, "See, I told you I am who I say I am."
He is actually pretty hilarious, and I just can't help but fuck with him.
"You have gotten uglier, though. Do you have any pictures with Judson? You know, for extra verification."
He fidgets with his phone a minute before holding a picture of him and Judson up to me. They both look happy, laughing at the camera.
"Come in, but no funny business because I will stab you with a kitchen knife." He laughs and plops down on the couch.
"What are you doing here, and how do you know where I live?"
Without hesitation, he throws a paper down on the table, "I'm here for Judson." I pick it up, scanning the contents. My eyes grow wide by the realization of what I am reading.
"He can't come here, Blakely, not yet. He's a good guy, but he is so fucked up when it comes to this." I nod, throwing the paper back down on the coffee table.
I feel tears burning my eyes as I turn to him, "I wish he would let me be there for him. I would be."
"Yeah, I thought you'd say that. That's why I'm here. Typically I would tell a girl to just take a loss and move on because no guy with Daddy issues is going to be worth it, but I'm here to tell you the opposite."
He takes a deep breath before continuing, "I've known Judson a long time. He doesn't get invested with anyone. He won't get too close in fear of getting the rug pulled. He's spent his entire life watching the fucked up relationship of his mom and dad, and quite honestly, he doesn't know how to do the wholeboyfriendthing."
The realization sets in, he's right, but he doesn't know what I've been through either. Why do I always feel the constant need to help other people when I can barely help myself.
"I haven't ever seen him like this. He will push you away but don't think that it's because he doesn't love you. After all, I can assure you that is not the truth."
He hands me a post-it note, "I found this in a stack of papers he was going through. That is his handwriting."
Carter stands abruptly and turns to the door, "Thanks for letting me in. Judson will let you in too—eventually.”
He pulls the door closed behind him, and I turn the deadbolt locked. I glance down at the horribly ugly yellow post-it note…
Atticus.
There is a collection of poems scribbled down. The tears fall as if they are entirely natural as if they belong. I tear my jacket off the coat rack and grab my purse. He is going through this but still thinking about me, about us. He is a guy, and he looked up a poet, for crying out loud! I run down the stairs of the building as fast as I can until I reach Carter.
"Can you take me to him?" He looks at me. I'm positive I look like a complete train wreck with mascara all over my face. He nods and opens the car door for me. I settle into the seat, jerking the seatbelt around my shoulder.
"Thank you for coming to me. You're a good friend."
"He is my best friend, like a brother, really. We can be friends too." I smile at myself, thinking about how I went from no one to Judson, Jay, Hanna, and now Carter.
We make it about 2 minutes down the road before I burst into a fit of laughter—a full-blown belly giggle. I'm still crying and quite possibly snotting everywhere.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asks, his forehead wrinkled up between his eyes.
I can hardly get the words out between my explosions of giggling, "I'm gonna miss the real China Dragon guy!"
He laughs with me as we make our way onto the interstate.
To Judson.
CHAPTER 37
JUDSON