I walked around the large house, passing through countless rooms. One door opened, and I peered inside. Annoyed, I went ahead and entered another room. Same result.
This was getting frustrating. I couldn’t find any. This place was too big for a few people to live in, and my sour mood wasn’t helping me at all.
“How could a mansion possess zero phones?” I shouted at the top of my lungs. My voice echoed down the vast emptiness. Since Jude was taking a shower, I had decided to roam around his house. A few house cleaners and guards appeared here and there, though apart from a few glances, none of them paid me any heed.
I bet Jude was paying them handsomely, to ensure I didn't escape, I thought bitterly.
With everything that happened yesterday during school, I had completely forgotten about my cellphone. I was supposed to receive it today, except Jude had gotten one of his guards to inform the school that both of us were sick, and we would stay at his place.
If that excuse didn't sound bogus, I could not decide what it was. Plus, I’m certain it would only reaffirm the rumors he’d spread about us, because think about it: Thursday, Jude was acting as if he’d always been enrolled in my school, then drops the irreversible statement. Friday, we happen to both be absent, and he decides to get somebody to cover for both of us?
If there was a tiny shred of doubt in anyone's mind about his being my boyfriend, then it was definitely over now.
Either way, the main reason behind my desperate phone-hunt was my wanting to contact Nicolas and Tony. I couldn’t stop thinking about Grandma, and I could not help but wonder if something had happened to them too.
Postponing my search for phones, I stumbled across Jude in the humongous kitchen. I asked him for his personal cellphone, the one he had been using to oh-so-romantically call me with.
“What do you need it for?” he asked, adjusting his collar. I mirrored his move, feeling slightly uncomfortable to be wearing his clothes. I wondered if he possessed any others that weren’t white.
“None of your business,” I snapped, suddenly realizing something obvious. Of course, Jude would have gotten rid of all the phones. He wouldn’t want me calling up whoever I knew, for help or some other things. “Just hand it to me.”
Jude narrowed his eyes and began eating his breakfast. “I won’t give it to you unless you give me a valid reason.”
I rolled my eyes back so far that for a moment, I wondered if I could see my brain. “Never mind.”
He continued to eat, and my stomach reminded me that it was on the verge of a loud, growling orchestra. I made eye contact with Jude, internally ordering him to get me a plate of food too.
If he was going to have me around, I would not give him the satisfaction of bowing down to him. No way was I going to act like a pet. No way was I going to ask him to notice me.
To my dismay, he continued to stuff himself, completely ignoring me.
“What?” he asked, after I continuously assassinated him with my glare, “The swelling on your lips have gone down. Do you want me to inflate them again or something?”
“Huh? Who do you think you ar -”
“Not now,” he interrupted, “I’m eating. I’ll pay attention to you in a few minutes.”
Okay, this guy was clearly trying to mess with me. Briefly recalling a TV show I had watched about dogs doing puppy eyes to their distracted owners, whenever they wanted something, I realized this scene was no different.
“I’m hungry! I haven’t eaten since yesterday night,” I said, finally giving in, “Give me some food.”
Jude feigned surprise, “Is that so? Should have mentioned it earlier.” He had some strawberry jelly stuck on the corner of his mouth. By the end of next week, jam wouldn’t be the only red thing plastered on his face. And his body. “Come and join me.” He beckoned me towards the seat next to him.
Reluctantly, I sat down. My mouth watered when I saw what was in front of me. Heaps of crispy bacon, stacks of buttery pancakes with overflowing syrup, fruits of all shapes and sizes, encircled neatly on a huge platter and many, many more delicious-smelling food decorated the table. The sight made me even hungrier than I was.
I reached across the table for a pancake, then felt a sting on my hand. I looked up, stunned. Jude had sent a small jolt of electricity down my arm.
“Nuh-uh,” Jude said, his teeth bared into menacing scowl, “That’s my pancake. Don’t touch it.”
I glared at him and opted for the steamy bacon instead. Zap!
“That’s also mine!” he snapped.
Okay, I should have smothered him last night, after all. “What the hell am I supposed to eat if you’re going to be so greedy as to keep everything to yourself?” I screamed, “Yesterday you offered me some, but today you're too selfish to share?”
Just when I thought Jude could not degrade anymore, he would turn out much worse. Every second I spent with him convinced me that he was an absolute maniac.
He brought me to his house, and he refuses to feed me? He wants me to become “his,” and he’s exhibiting such a terrible attitude? What an obnoxious, greedy idiot!
Jude pushed a bowl of cornflakes and a jar of milk in my direction. “Here you go.”
“That’s it?” I asked, “Cornflakes? Seriously?” I curled my lips in disgust. I hate Cornflakes.
He lowered his head and proceeded to pigging out. There was a bandage wrapped messily around his head, snippets of his wavy hair sticking out on all sides. Two bandages decorated his face and there was one across the bridge of his nose.
Despite the first-aid treatment, I could visualize the bright splotches of red on his cheeks, and there was a slight tremor in his hands as he ate. From what I could tell, he was upset.
My hunger was stronger than my dislike for Cornflakes. I poured the cereal into the bowl, wondering what had happened. For a while, the table fell silent. The only noise you could hear was the crunch of cereal through my teeth and his nauseating spectacle.
“So,” I served myself a second bowl of cereal, “After eating, you’re going to show me that coffer, right?”
Jude remained completely unaware of my actions. He continued to eat, his face flushing even more and his hands vibrating like a cellphone against a flat surface.
Right, something was up. I did not want to ask him because I didn’t want him to think I gave a damn, but his behavior was beginning to bug me. Like, seriously bug me.
“Fine,” I sighed dejectedly, simultaneously reminding myself that there was no way he was aware of my almost killing him when he’d been asleep, “What’s the problem?”
Jude’s lower lip began to tremble. He averted his gaze and stared anywhere else except for me. “Sorry. I’m not upset with you or anything, but I’m mad at myself.”
Wow, I couldn’t have guessed that in a million years. Who knew that depriving someone of a feast, and giving them some stupid, dry Cornflakes instead, would result in their actually being mad at themselves? No way would they be mad at the cereal dude, right? No way would they try and dig their hole even more, right?
“For a while, I’ve been keeping something extremely important from you,” he continued, “I didn’t want to say it because it was too complicated to bring up, and I never thought you would believe, or even listen to me if I admitted it. Therefore, I kept it in.”
I blushed, the sudden confession he had made in his dreams resurging in my memory. Jude caught me looking at him, and immediately lowered his head.
I knew it. He was going to tell me he loved me. Too bad for him, I was going to turn him down. Even if butterflies were swarming around in my stomach and dizziness threatened to send me reeling, I knew exactly what needed to be done. I knew exactly how to crush his hopes.
“The truth is, I…”
“Yeah?” I gulped, anticipating the confession.
“I lied to you.”
Huh? Huh??? HUH???
“Remember what I told you about Rhea?” he asked.
So, I’d been wrong. Jude was not going to flat-out confess his undying love towards me. A slight pang hit me, disappointment making its way towards my mind. I couldn’t even decide what was worse: My getting excited about an actual, face-to-face confession or my forgetting about Rhea, after being around Jude for three days.
Don't get me wrong! I still had feelings for her, yet for some reason, whenever Jude was around, typical confusion would come whispering into my ear. For instance, Rhea had long, flowing hair…
“Damian?”
…that swung just below her slim waist, but Jude’s hair was soft, cute, fluffy, and tempting to play with. Rhea had full, luscious lips that I’m certain would look very nice in dark lipstick, but Jude’s lips were heart-shaped and would definitely compliment mine, as delicious as they were.
“Damian!”
Rhea had a killer body, with toned muscles and a tan that took everybody’s breath away, but Jude had a small, feminine-like frame and a pale complexion I would just love to explore. I bet I could leave all sorts of interesting marks on him, causing more than just one blood-spill. Our bodies and mouths would melt into one another, our spit would be mixed with more than just one fluid. We would be entangled under the sheets, sweaty, wet and nake –
“DAMIAN!!”
Instantly, my fantasy shattered. Jude was giving me a strange, concerned look. I inwardly cursed him for mostly owning white clothes because I’m certain that it made the flush in my face pop out even more.
How the hell? How did that even happen? This was ridiculous. My mind was playing tricks on me. My hormones were even more deceiving than Jude. There must have been something in that cereal. Cornflakes were evil, after all!
“What?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t just had an erotic fantasy about him.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, “Do you remember what I told you about Rhea?”
“How could I not remember?” I replied, “You flat-out admitted you'd done something horrible to her and your parents.”
“Well, that was a lie,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, “I had nothing to do with her departure.”
“What are you saying?” I couldn’t believe it. Did not want to believe it.
Jude’s beautiful sister had disappeared because of his cunning, scheming self. Jude had something to do with it. He was trying to manipulate me, lie to me again. Because that’s what he was best at doing, manipulating innocent people, ignorant of his twisted personality and –
“It was our parents,” Jude declared, breaking my train of thoughts, “They took her away and left me behind.”
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