Andrés is leaning against the mahogany table with the cue stick under his right arm, held tightly in both hands. He's aiming at a spotted ball near the left corner pocket.
Judith's standing on the other end with her cue at her side and her attention on her portrait by the exit. Her mind is elsewhere, anticipating the upcoming protest.
The sharp clack snaps her out of her thoughts, and she jolts her eyes onto him. He's upright, smiling at the ball that's racing for the hole. Once it drops, he meets her gaze, then leans forward again. He aims for the final ball, but his dark irises refuse to leave hers.
She watches him draw the brown stick back before thrusting it forward again, sending the ball racing down the green rug and crashing into her end of the rail.
They glance at it, then at each other, and she sees the raised corners of his lips drop.
"Your turn," he tells her with a disappointed huff. She takes a deep breath, then bends over the edge of the table, hovering the black circle of her cue stick close to the black ball in the center of the table.
Judy shuts her eyes and takes in a breath of the sweat-tinged air around them. Andrés sits his lower lip between his teeth and taps his right foot, the cue standing in front of him in both hands.
She draws hers back, then fires, but the ball barely shifts forward. He exhales, and his shoulders drop as another grin forms against his mouth.
"Okay, so, you're supposed to hit it harder," he reminds her as she leans off the table and straightens her posture. "It's okay, though. I mean, I wasn't always this good, believe it or not."
I wonder if Juniper's done with her class.
She veers her eyes onto the clock above the door and notices that fifteen minutes have passed. Andrés' incessant rambling fades in her ears as her thoughts drift her attention away.
I hope we draw a big crowd. I'd hate for this to be for nothing.
"But I'll show you how to actually hit the ball." He sits his cue against the side of the table and walks toward her. Once he's in front of her line of sight, she blinks out of her head again and looks at him.
"What?" He stands behind her, and she turns her head to look at him. She furrows her eyebrows.
"I said I'll show you the right way to do it," he reminds her, and she narrows her eyes. Before she can ask him to elaborate, he wraps his arms around her and places his hands around the back of hers. Her lungs hold the air in her chest, and her heart skips a beat. Her eyes grow wide at the people across the room conversing around another pool table. "You're tense, firstly."
He caresses her skin under his thumbs, and she quickly drops the stick, then pushes her way out of his embrace. Andrés knits his brows at her, and she rushes toward her belongings.
Judy tosses her bag over her shoulders, lifts her portrait off the floor, and exits the room without looking at him. She enters the main lobby of the student lounge, which is now filled with more students. Jerome, Manuel, Khalíd, and Eric are among the crowd.
Judith runs toward the main doors, and Manuel glances at her with apathy in his eyes that drift onto the papers in front of them. As if he's noticed something strange about her, he darts his head upward again, looking at her a second time.
He nudges Jerome with his right elbow with concern plastered on his face, earning a look from all three of them. They follow his eyes onto her just as she pushes through the doors.
The winter breeze hits Judith upon exiting the building, but she continues walking forward without a destination in mind. Her teeth begin to chatter, and tears pool in her eyes at the lingering feeling of his hands on her.
Jerome bursts through the doors and stops under the arch, his eyes immediately landing on her back. He races behind her.
"Judy," he calls for her, and she stops in her tracks. He continues sprinting and slows as he approaches her. He stands behind her, his chest rising and falling as he takes sharp breaths.
Judith sniffles, piercing the inside of her nostrils with the brutal wind. He hears the whistling from her nose, and he walks around her left side, his head hung as he searches for her dark browns.
"What's wrong," he asks, and she shuts her eyes. Tears slip through the cracks and trickle off her cheeks. Jerome lowers his brows, and his heart sinks.
She opens her eyes and mouth to tell him what happened, but her throat closes, and the words find themselves trapped above her chest.
"I can't – protect myself," she manages to tell him, her voice cracking. He doesn't respond, so she sniffles and licks her lips, shaking her lowered head. He watches her drop her painting and shield her face under her dainty, trembling hands.
He squats down with a pained groan and hoists her artwork off the grass. He examines the colors and images, then looks at her. "Judy, what happened?"
"It doesn't matter." Her palms muffle her reply, but he's able to understand her regardless. Jerome gives her painting another look, and he grins.
"This is beautiful. Did you make it?" He looks at her, and when she nods, he returns his attention to the canvas. "I didn't know you painted."
"I don't." She drops her hands and folds her arms. Her nose is red, and her eyes are puffy and sodden. "I was just – bored and sad. It's stupid, and I'll probably throw it away."
"It'd be a shame if you did." They stare at each other, his eyes occasionally glancing at the tears trickling down her face. "Can I have it?"
"I don't care," she tells him before wiping away the traces of her sadness. Judith takes a deep breath, the air smoothly entering, only to leave more uneasily. The skin above her nose bridge wrinkles and the corners of her lips curl downward. He watches her cry once again.
"You know I can't help unless you tell me what's wrong," Jerome calmly reminds her, and she scoffs, rolling her eyes.
"Stop talking to me like I'm a child." He pulls his mouth into a straight line as his eyebrows drop, then turns away from her. She watches him take two steps before her eyes widen, and she rushes behind him. "Where're you going?"
"Away from you before I get mad," he says with his gaze fixed on his approaching reflection. She walks alongside him, staring upward at the gentle giant. "I don't know how to help you, and every time you lash out at me, I wanna pull my hair out."
"I'm sorry! Okay?" He stops in front of the doors and looks down at her. "I – I just feel trapped inside myself. Things keep happening, and I can't stop it, and I just get so upset and – I wanna --"
"Judith, what happened," he asks again in a louder tone, interrupting her. Andrés pushes the door to their left open, and they look at him. As he turns to look at Jerome, Judy lowers her gaze and wraps her arms around her body.
"Um, excuse me," Andrés says, and when Jerome takes Judith in his right arm and guides her away from the doors, he exits the building. He takes three steps toward the quad near the sorority, then stops with his back to them.
Jerome's fingers inch further around her waist, and he grips her closer to him, narrowing his eyes at him. Judy glances at his hand on her, into his eyes, then at Andrés, who's turning around.
"Can we help you," Jerome projects his voice so his question is audible from the distance.
"Actually, I wanted to speak to her before I get ready for my next class," he announces, and Jerome looks at her.
She squeezes the back of his grey sweatshirt in her left hand, and he feels her heart pounding. Looking at her face, for a black woman, he notices her usually warm complexion draining as if she's turning pale.
"Yeah, no," he says, returning his attention forward. "My girl and I have somewhere we need to be."
Andrés glances at her, then turns away again. They watch him depart, and when he veers around the corner, they face each other.
"You okay, Judy?" She nods her head, her lips agape. He takes her face in his right hand, her painting in his left arm, then wipes away her tears under his thumb.
"Cyrus and Juniper are protesting with me in thirty minutes," Judith tells him, and he lowers his hand to his side. "Could you – join us? Only if you want to and have the time."
"I'll see if I can. I have a project I need to finish for my business class." She nods and looks down, but he smiles and lifts her chin, so their eyes meet. "I promise, okay?"
Judith bites the skin under her bottom lip when she feels the corners of her mouth curl upward.
Mary.
"Can I ask you something?" He nods when she asks. "Why'd you stop talking to Mary?"
"Because I saw her with Devon," Jerome answers. "She tried to introduce herself as his new girlfriend and expected for everything to be copacetic; I said leave, and eventually they did."
"Who's Devon?" With a straight face, he flickers his eyes from left to right as if he's confused by her question. "You mean David?"
"Yeah, whatever his name is. The one with too many turtlenecks." He lightly swings his hand dismissively, and she amusedly forces air out of her nose. "Anyway, his legs are still messed up, so most likely, she's in his dorm right now. You dodged two bullets."
"Then why am I hurting," Judith asks, sliding her hands over her chest. Jerome purses his lips, unaware of what to say. She looks to her right, her eyes heating up and her throat clenching. "You know he – he was always afraid of roller coasters? I know it's a random thing to say."
"Yeah, I wasn't gonna mention it, though," he tells her with a dry chuckle that catches her eyes.
"I'm being serious, Jerome." She stares at him for a few seconds with the only noise coming from those around them. She returns her gaze to the sorority in the distance. "One time, we went to the county fair when we were eighteen. He'd just got his license and a job at IvyWell here in Darlington, and he wanted to take me on a real date. No parents, no older or younger siblings; just us."
He nods, and she takes a deep, shaky breath.
"I practically begged him to get on one with me, and the whole ride was just – screams, hand squeezing, me laughing until the car dropped, then I'd scream with him." She chuckles at the memory, her already blurry vision worsening with tears. "We ate, walked around, then got in the car, and it was dark. He drove a good distance from the fair and – that's when it started. I remember being so – hurt and sad, and after that, I couldn't get on another ride without feeling like I couldn't breathe. He took me home, and on the way up the stairs, he grabbed me, and it took me over a year to forgive those stairs for something they didn't do. Stupid, isn't it?"
"Not at all, and none of it was your fault," he softly assures her. Her tears cling to her lashes, and he slowly reaches his hand toward her face. She darts her eyes onto his. "May I?"
Judith nods, and he wipes her tears under his thumb again, then rests his palms against her cheek. Juniper and Cyrus walk toward them from either side before stopping three feet away from the pair.
"Judith, are you okay," Juniper asks. Jerome returns his arm to his side, and she looks at her, then at Cyrus
"Yeah, are y'all ready?" They nod, and she looks at Jerome. "Wanna join us? It seems we'll have more time now."
"I gotta get back inside with the fellas," he reminds her. Juniper walks behind Judy with Cyrus in tow, and they search for the center of the lawn. "But, like I said, if I have time, I'll join you."
Judith watches him take a few steps back, then turn to the door.