Moose and Goose

Chapter Seventy-one

"Stop fighting," Vera screams over them, tears flooding her red face. Two minutes have passed, and they're relentlessly arguing.

"I mean, do you really not have any self-respect," Jerome yells at Judith despite the tears in her eyes. "I wanted to help you! I actually liked you and you really went back to him? After everything he put you through, all the crying and bruises, you still went back to him?"

"Could you please lower your voice?" A single tear rolls down her face and into her mouth, and Jerome scoffs. David smirks with his arms crossed.

"And now you want me to pretend everything's copacetic," he asks louder, scoffing incredulously. "You not only humiliated me, but you wasted my time! I came here to get you, and I shouldn't have, really, because when I came earlier, your mom lied and said you were already there. That should've been my first indication that something was off because we never even discussed where we were going."

"I'm sorry," she tries to apologize, but he interrupts her.

"Don't even worry about it." Jerome shakes his head with his lower lip pouting nonchalantly. "Don't call me or come by my house. I would tell you to keep walking if you see me on campus, but thankfully you're leaving anyway."

"Jerome," Judith whines, turning to watch him stroll off her yard with a scowl. A breath of the nippy night air catches in her lungs, burning like frostbite and tracing the mourning of their broken relationship down her face.

"Incredible performance, truly. I might just use his wrath for my performance in the play," David says while clapping slowly. She averts her anger to him, the porch light casting down on them and blurring his face. Vera sniffles, her lips agape and her teeth chattering.

Taking jagged breaths, she says, "I hate you."

Judith rushes up the steps, and he drops his arms, then furrows his eyebrows. When she reaches him, he grips her arm before she steps past. She jerks back and gasps from the swift motion

"What the fuck did you say, Jude?" He tightens his hold on her, and her face shrinks similar to someone tasting a lemon. He thrusts her body closer to his, and his eyes dart left and right, staring into both of hers.

"Get inside, Vera," she tells her sister without looking away from her ex. Vera shakes her head no.

"I don't wanna leave you," she whines, snot glistening against her lip philtrum. Rembrandt opens the door with a dull expression, standing in a white shirt and ash-grey slacks. He pauses at the arch and lifts a brow at them.

"What the hell is going on?" David releases her when he hears her uncle's thunderous voice. "Veranda, get inside."

"My name's not Veranda," she yells before sprinting past him, and he follows her with his eyes until she steps behind him. Judith watches David step down, the two shooting daggers at each other, and when he turns his back to her, she looks at her uncle.

"Her name's Sauvera," she corrects him, then steps closer. "But I wouldn't expect you to know since you're never in our lives until something bad happens. How much longer until you leave?"

He slams the back of his hand against her cheek, and she gasps, her eyes flaring wider. The sound resembles a whip cracking against flesh, and Rembrandt watches her take the red mark in her fingers.

"I'm here for Sheryl, and I'm staying until she asks me to leave, but while I'm here, you bastards will show me respect." Her eyes dim, and she narrows them at him. Her mother approaches him with her arms crossed over her chest. "You dig?"

"What's going on? Who's at the door, and why's Vera crying," she floods him with questions and stands behind him, peering over his shoulder. "Judy, what's wrong? Did something happen while y'all were at his house?"