for judy, sex was an afterthought. and for andy, it was the same thing. it was just something adults did whether they liked it or not. it was a business transaction.
but as judy lay in andy's arms, their naked bodies covered by a blanket and their legs intertwined, that predisposition was forever changed.
andy's hand rubbed circles into her upper arm as they stared off into the distance. "have you ever," he swallowed, "done that before?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble.
judy was resting on andy's shoulder, her hand splayed across his chest. she blinked slowly. "only once," she said. "phillip greene, eleventh grade."
"eleventh grade..." andy trailed off, having yet to learn about the american education system. "so you were..."
"seventeen," judy replied. "it was a football game. we did it in a men's bathroom stall," she chuckled, the embarrassing memory coming back to her mind. "what about you?"
"twice," andy said, raising his eyebrows. "i had this girlfriend back in wicklow. she was... interesting."
judy felt how just the mentioning of this nameless girlfriend made him tense. "was she sweet?" she asked.
andy tightened his grip on judy's arm ever-so-slightly. "in the worst possible way."
judy hummed. "i'd never done it like that, though," she muttered, her cheeks flushed.
"no," andy said in agreement, "never like that."
judy had never even been held the way andy held her. it almost frightened her - she had known him for barely three weeks, and yet here she was giving him parts of her that she wouldn't dare look at herself.
but in the end, she wasn't afraid. her love for andy ran whole and deep, and she was certain that andy's love for her ran the same. that love had been cried into each other's skin, right next to the fingerprints branded in their backs that shone a bright red.
"do you..." judy started. "what happens now?" andy didn't respond, waiting for her to elaborate. she propped herself up on her elbows, looking at andy with a troubled expression. somehow, andy thought, she's still glowing. "we have money, but not a lot. we have nothing to go back to, y'know? what do we do?"
andy reached up and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "i guess the only thing we can do is look forward," he said softly. "i don't know what the future holds in store for us, but it'll be for us."
judy's lips upturned slightly, gazing at andy with an adoration she'd never felt before. "i like the sound of that," she said. andy's hand moved to cup her chin, his green eyes dancing between her own eyes and her lips. they began to lean in slowly, before-
"judy?! judy, are you in there?"
judy hung her head, falling into andy's chest as he laughed at the sound of bea's voice.
"i can't find my top anywhere," judy groaned, searching through the mass of blankets and discarded clothes.
"you could just wear my shirt," andy said, holding up his fleece flannel. it was obvious he was faking nonchalance - it made judy smile.
"you know bea's gonna have a field day if she sees me in your clothes," judy warned. still, she took the shirt from his hands and shrugged it on, leaving three buttons unfastened before moving to put on her underwear.
"let her," andy said, putting on his jeans and white tank top. "it's not like she's gonna freak out."
judy rolled her eyes before opening the back door to reveal bea (and a night sky - something neither judy nor andy noticed). her face immediately morphed into one of shock. she yanked judy by her arm and led her to the side of the van. "that isn't your shirt," she observed.
"no, it's not," said judy.
"it's andy's, isn't it?"
judy bit her lip, avoiding eye contact. "... maybe-"
"oh my GOD, did you guys fuck?!" bea asked loudly, shaking judy's shoulders. "you guys fucked, didn't you?!"
"jesus christ, bea, tell the whole festival while you're at it," judy hissed. "and for your information... yeswedid," judy answered hurriedly.
bea was somehow sober enough to decipher what judy said, because she let out an excited squeal, like she was the biggest fan of judy's and andy's relationship (and in a way, she was). "wait, did you finish?" bea whispered.
judy felt her face burn up. "oh my god, bea!"
"well?! did you?!"
"... yes," judy confessed. bea squealed again, shaking judy's shoulders. "i love you, but can you chill with the shaking?" she asked. "my legs are kinda sore," she whispered, embarrassed to say it.
"oh my god, this is getting better by the second," bea said, her mischievous grin growing wider - if it could even do that.
"you're really enjoying this, aren't you?" judy asked sassily.
bea gave an enthusiastic nod. "i am, i really am." she poked judy's side. "didn't i say you guys looked like a married couple?"
"yeah, yeah," judy dismissed, turning around. "the nuptials'll come later," she called. when she returned to the bonfire that eddie lit for the second and final time, andy was there, hugging her from behind. "'let her,' you said. 'it's not like she's gonna freak out,' you said," judy said in fake anger.
andy leaned his head down to kiss her shoulder through his smile. "i'm sorry," he said, "i wish i were there to see her freak out."
"you're forgiven," judy giggled.
"so are you two, like, together together?" asked august.
judy hesitated, looking up at andy for an answer. they loved each other - that much was apparent - but they'd never put a label on it until now.
andy nodded. "together together," he said.
eddie snapped his fingers. "see! i told you that would happen!" he said to august, holding out his hand. august reluctantly reached into his pocket and placed a crumpled $20 bill in eddie's outstretched hand.
"of course you two were betting on it," bea said scoldingly, folding her arms and turning her nose upwards.
"don't act like you didn't just interrogate me about my sex life two minutes ago," judy seethed jokingly.
"hey! they were important questions!" bea argued. is my orgasm really that important of a question? judy thought.
"in any case," eddie said, "you two are cute together."
andy gave eddie a warm smile. "thank you, eddie," he said.
"hey man, any of you guys got a lighter? i think i lost mine," a man asked. he was a stereotypical hippie, with long dirty-blonde hair and circular glasses. to judy and andy, he looked oddly familiar...
"indy?!"
indy turned to see his former customers. "no way, judy and andrew! crazy seeing you guys here!"
"wait," andy said, "how'd you know our names?"
"just a feeling," indy shrugged off as judy passed him one of her lighters.
"so what are you doing up here? why aren't you back in louisville?" judy asked.
indy lit up a cigarette and sighed. "i was in NYC looking for a place to set up a new location for my store. branch out a bit," he said, suddenly sounding very entrepreneurial. "but i don't really wanna live here, y'know? louisville sucks, but it's my home, man," he complained. "what about y'all?"
"we were here for the festival mostly, but we might just stay," judy responded.
indy hummed slowly before his eyes widened, looking like a lightbulb lit up in his brain. "hey, i know!" he exclaimed. "why don't you guys run the new york store while i run the louisville store?!" he asked. "the place i decided to buy also has an apartment above it, so you guys would, like, be set, man!"
it almost sounded too good to be true. but then again, this is indy we're talking about.
"you'd entrust two strangers with a record store?" andy asked skeptically.
"what do you mean? i sold weed to you guys," indy responded, "y'all are far from strangers."
"i mean, we need somewhere to live anyways," judy said, looking up at andy.
he looked back at her, considering all of their options. given the month he's had, it wouldn't be the craziest thing he's ever done.
and the idea of doing it by judy's side made it all the more appealing.
"you've got yourself a deal," said andy, giving indy(confusing, i know) a firm handshake.
"sweet! judy, mind giving me your arm?"
"uhhh, sure," judy said, extending her arm out. indy reached into his pockets and pulled out a sharpie, scribbling an address into her skin.
1500 w. 9th st.
bronx, NYC
"meet me at that address, let's say... this monday? 2:00?"
"it's a date."
diary of judy carver (DO NOT READ)
august 18, 1969
i can wade grief,
whole pools of it —
i am used to that.
but the least push of joy
and i tip — drunken
t'was the new liquor,
that was all!
-emily dickinson