Chapter Text
Jude began her morning like most of her other mornings: wishing Cardan Greenbriar was never born. In fact, she remained adamant that if he ceased to exist, wars would end, world hunger would dissipate, and the ozone would repair itself.
She had told herself the night before that she would not let him ruin her day. Mondays sucked enough as it was, and she had a major political science paper due on Friday. She would need a clear head in order to write it properly, especially considering she hadn’t exactly been productive over the weekend–though she regrettably couldn’t blame that entirely on him. She had told herself that she would ignore him, that she may even take the high road and give him a nod of acknowledgement and greeting instead of her patented thinking-of-ways-to-kill-you-in-your-sleep glare. That line of thinking lasted a full 2.33 seconds, which is coincidentally the exact amount of time it took for her to leave her room and lay eyes on her roommate.
Cardan was seated at the counter, drinking his morning coffee, which in itself is not a crime. The crime was that said coffee was clearly from Jude’s stash of very expensive, very rich Brazilian coffee, one of the only nice things Madoc would send Jude. Somewhere deep down, Jude was aware that sharing coffee was a common occurrence among roommates, and that in other circumstances, sharing expensive coffee might show true friendship. But those circumstances did not involve Cardan Greenbriar, who when he was offered the coffee during their initial days as roommates declared it to be ‘pathetic.’
Upon seeing him, Jude’s face slipped from fake pleasantness to a scowl. He looked content, unbothered, as one often looks when they think themselves above everyone else. Swiping idly through his phone, Jude had the offhand thought that he looked rather peaceful when he thought he was alone. The usual cruelty of his mouth was absent without anyone to direct his sneer towards. If Cardan was a regular self-absorbed roommate, Jude might have persuaded herself to let it go, but Cardan was the ringleader of Jude’s tormenters, who just this weekend, had dumped her law books in the pond. Cardan did nothing to corral their cruel nature, so Jude did not feel the need to corral her anger. “Cardan! That’s my coffee, you selfish prick.”
Cardan barely lifted his gaze from his phone, “Christ, aren’t you pleasant in the mornings.”
Here she was, furious, and he hadn’t spared her a glance. Any lingering aspirations of civility withered as she stomped across to the kitchen to look at her stash of said coffee. “You bastard. That was the last one!”
There was a beat of pause on Cardan’s face that looked for a moment like confusion, like maybe he hadn’t realized she didn’t have any more. But a look at the fury in her eyes, and a lazy, arrogant grin soon split his face. Jude had long thought that the most infuriating thing about Cardan was that he was unfairly attractive. Arrogance was supposed to look harsh and brutish. On Cardan, it seemed alluring and seductive, and she hated him for it.
“You have to buy me more,” she demanded.
“I most certainly do not,” he scoffed into his coffee cup, not breaking eye contact.
“You have more than enough money.” She stepped beside his chair, closer into his space, hoping to intimidate him despite knowing that wouldn’t work. Even seated at one of the counter stools, which gave her the rare opportunity to be taller than him, he seemed to make her current height advantage into a disadvantage. He looked up at her as if he was upon a throne, and she was a courtier begging favor from her sovereign.
He swiveled the stool, facing her while resting his head in his palm with his elbow holding its weight from its position on the countertop. His eyes swept over her, “as do you.”
Jude knew rationally that he was referring to her clothes, expensive ones, but she couldn’t help feeling naked under his gaze. In a moment of weakness, she glanced at her outfit: a leather mini-skirt and a sweater. Both designer. Courtesy of growing up the ward of a politician, Jude and her twin and nothing but the finest belongings, attire included. But her wealth was a fraction of his, and he knew that.
“You’re one to talk,” she crossed her arms, hoping it wasn’t as obvious as it felt that he was under her skin.
Cardan spared a glance at his own luxury clothing, a white button down, only half-buttoned, that surely cost more than some people’s cars. “All the money I could want at my fingertips, and yet I still have to live with a roommate who verbally abuses me for my choice of beverage.” His grin had whittled down to a smirk, but he refused to break eye contact, and his stare made Jude grow hotter.
“Like it’s my choice to live with you.” Their university refused to allow them to live off-campus in their final year, hoping to prove that these children of powerful politicians loved the school, which would encourage others to apply. What they’d truly managed to do was make Jude ponder murder on a daily basis. Jude took a deep breath, hoping to calm the dark fury in her gut.
“The polite thing to do when you finish someone else’s food or supplies is to replace it.” Jude tried to school her face into neutrality.
Cardan scoffed, “since I woke up, I’ve been called ‘a disappointment, a selfish prick, and a bastard.” He drained the rest of the coffee. “You have no belief that I will ever be polite.” He stood up, making Jude realize how close to each other they actually were. She could feel the brush of his long sleeves against her crossed arms. She had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact, a fact which she had always despised.
As he drew to his full height, Jude willed herself to remain where she was and fought against the traitorous part of herself that wanted to close her eyes and inhale. A small smile began in the corner of his mouth as his eyes watched her face, and Jude briefly wondered if he could read her mind.
“Later, Jude.” He began to slip past her, “oh, and I do suggest you look at your watch.”
Eyes widening, she did just that. 8:50. Shit. She was going to have to run to make it to class. She turned to say something to Cardan, determined not to let him get the last word, but he was gone. And she was left wondering how he managed to best her simply by drinking a cup of coffee.
***
“I really don’t see what the big deal is.” Taryn shrugged as they found an available spot on the quad. “It’s a mug of coffee. Madoc will send more soon, and I can even give you some of mine if you’re desperate.” She pulled out their picnic blanket and began to sit.
Their usual spot was underneath a particularly large willow tree, but this late into fall would risk leaves falling into their food, so they chose a tree that had already lost the majority of its leaves. Though students were quick to complain about the oncoming chill, the campus was actually quite beautiful during fall. Colors were blooming, and the breeze was still gentle. The quad was rather full as the weather was surprisingly balmy.
“It’s not about the coffee,” but as Jude said that, she began to feel foolish. “It’s that he knows it’s mine. And it’s just the tip of the other bullshit he’s done.” Jude plopped herself beside her twin, now even more annoyed. Yes, her emotional response of wrath and fury did not equal the situation at hand, but Taryn should be taking her side no matter the error. Cardan had done plenty over the last week to light her fuse, this was just the inevitable explosion at the end of the line.
First it was the obnoxious ‘study session’ with his rude, borderline-abusive friends that lasted into the early hours of the morning until they were all thoroughly intoxicated and passing out. They had received several noise complaints the next day, which of course Cardan made sure he wasn’t around to deal with. There was also the matter of the state of the place, which Cardan was too hungover to deal with. And that was only Tuesday. The rest of the week went similarly.
Taryn pulled out her lunch of assorted cheeses and meats, passing the pickle to Jude without a second thought. “Whatever you do, don’t piss him off anymore. His family has sway, and when we leave this school, they could blackball us from any worthwhile job.”
Jude stared at her own pathetic sandwich that she had grabbed from a vending machine. “You’re right. He just makes me so angry.”
Vivi chose then to dump her belongings between the twins. “Did I just hear Jude Duarte admit fault?” She turned to Taryn in mock dramatics, “quick, are pigs flying? Do you feel cold? Is Hell freezing over?”
Jude extended her leg to lightly kick Vivi in the side, trying to hide her growing grin.
“We were talking about His Royal Asshatedness.” Taryn offered Vivi a piece of cheese, which she happily plopped in her mouth.
“Ah that cruel bastard.” Vivi had mastered moving as well as speaking with enough grace and bounce that even serious topics felt less heavy. “What did he do now?”
Jude picked at the wrapper of her sandwich, “He drank my coffee.”
Vivi blinked at her, before laying a hand on her arm. “What did the police say?”
Jude smacked her hand. “Vivi, I’m serious!”
Vivi let out a barking laugh while Taryn tried to hide her giggles.
“Guyssss. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Vivi leaned in to give Jude a peck on the cheek. “You know I always am. Call me if you decide we need revenge,” she leaned back to give Taryn the same treatment. “I’m off to class. See you lovelies later.”
Jude and Taryn said their goodbyes, Jude promising not to set anything on fire without the eldest sister present. Taryn kept the conversation focused on lighter topics for the rest of their eating, topics usually ranging from the misery of homework to the misery of classwork. After eating her sandwich and whatever Taryn offered from her much tastier lunch, Jude felt much more relaxed. Maybe she shouldn’t get so worked up over small injustices. Just because he could get under her skin didn’t make her powerless.
Taryn moved to pack up their picnic, “We should probably get going. I’ve got to be on the other side of campus in 15 minutes.”
“I’ll walk you part of the way,” Jude helped her fold the blanket. Her eyes cast down, she didn’t see Valerian until he had thrown his arm around her, which felt like a giant mistake although she wasn’t sure if spotting him early would have helped.
“Hi, Jude.”
“Hello, darling Jude.” Nicasia crooned from behind Taryn.
Jude steeled her looks into cool indifference, while she wriggled out from underneath Valerian’s arm. Taryn had no such poker face, which Nicasia unfortunately noticed.
“Oh Taryn, don’t worry. We brought a peace offering.” She turned her hawklike gaze towards Jude.
Valerian grinned at Jude, a mouth full of perfectly straight teeth. He sometimes reminded Jude of a shark, the way he seemed to smell blood as well as look like he might try to eat her. “Yes, Cardan told us all about the coffee incident.”
Taryn straightened, “It’s no bother.”
Nicasia purred, “Oh no, it’s horrible. Cardan feels horrible.”
Jude sincerely doubted that.
“He would feel awful if he didn’t find a way to set things right, so he bought you a new one, a fresh cup.” Valerian grabbed Jude’s shoulders, holding her in place.
Jude smelled the coffee before she felt it as Nicasia ripped off the plastic lid and threw the entire contents of the coffee onto Jude. Jude’s first thought was that by some stroke of luck, they hadn’t been so cruel as to make it hot coffee.
Nicasia and Valerian hollered in laughter as they strolled away. The entire quad had gone silent, staring at Jude in a way that made her want to crawl inside her own skin. But the worst of it all, and the reason she kept her eyes on her shoes was the pity she knew was in her sister’s eyes.
***
The walk back to her apartment was one of utter embarrassment, regret, and shame because she knew she could only blame herself. Cardan was cruel and selfish, and blowing up at him over a cup of coffee was beyond petty, and she should have known better.
Jude had practically begged Taryn to stop walking her home and go to class. The only thing worse than the embarrassment was the sense that her sister was trying to figure out how to say ‘I-told-you-so’ without actually uttering the words. Although she was relieved she was not trying to soothe burns from hot coffee, the ice-cold alternative was beginning to make her shiver, and she refused to add that to her shame unless she was alone.
Nicasia apparently preferred coffee with copious amounts of whipped cream and caramel because whatever was in her hair was definitely not going to come out easily. She wiped her hand on the side of her skirt before reaching for the door. It was a shoddy attempt to keep the doorknob from getting sticky because it most certainly would despite her best efforts. She prayed to anyone listening that there was no one home as she stepped into the threshold.
The large mirror hanging on the wall beheld a sorry sight. Jude looked at her soaked hair, now matted in the areas where it was drying before she could get the coffee out. Her clothes were ruined, perhaps beyond repair–she couldn’t tell yet. The coffee would definitely stain even if the caramel did not. Her makeup, by some stroke of luck (luck being powerful setting spray), remained largely intact with the exception of her eyeliner which had smudged all over her eye.
Apparently, no one had been listening to her prayer, she thought dejectedly, as the orchestrater of lunch’s spectacle burst out of his room.
“Yes, I know…” he struggled to put on his jacket, tucking the phone between his ear and his shoulder, “I’m coming. I-, yes, I know. Jesus, I’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up with a huff, whirling towards the front door. It had seemed like he had been in a hurry, yet he froze upon locking eyes with Jude.
She stared at him, not having moved from her pathetic spot by the mirror next to the front door.
His brows furrowed slightly as his eyes took in her state, as if trying and failing to ascertain the reason she was covered in ice coffee. “What…Why…”
Her expression shifted into one of pure disbelief. He couldn’t seriously be standing there looking confused when he orchestrated all of it.
“Jude?”
She was trying to will herself into a fury. Fury felt safer than standing idiotically by the door while Cardan looked at her with what was what must’ve been fabricated concern.
He approached slowly, as if she was a startled deer, and he was trying to keep her from bolting. She despised that. She wanted him to approach in terror, fearing her wrath, but she couldn’t will herself to anger. She felt so decidedly numb. She had tried to play a game that she clearly didn’t understand the rules to. She knew they could be wretched, but public humiliation–one that was so casual on their part–was different for them. She could still feel the eyes on her as she let Taryn lead her out of the quad, weak and powerless.
“Jude,” he was a lot closer than she expected, reaching out a hand towards a clump of hair near her ear.
Her eyes lifted to his, her expression blank and unfeeling. She couldn’t understand why he was doing this. She didn’t understand why she wasn’t tearing into him.
His fingers fell upon the hair. He gave her a peculiar look. It almost looked soft, like he wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know how. “If I had known you loved coffee enough to wear it, I-”
She pushed past him. Did she really just think he might actually comfort her? What was wrong with her?
“Jude,” his long fingers wrapped around her wrist, and it was that contact, the warmth of his hand, that broke through that dam of numbness that was keeping her emotions at bay.
She whirled on him, “Are you seriously insinuating that you don’t know why I’m covered in coffee? Why I’m missing class because I had to come back here to shower whipped cream out of my hair?” With the return of everything she refused to feel on that god-awful walk back here, she felt dangerously close to crying, so she continued. “I’ve known you to be cruel, but I’ve always thought you were far too selfish to give sole credit to others for your pranks. You want everyone to think you’re in charge, that you have unwavering control over everything and everyone.” Yes, this was good, so long as she was yelling at him, she wasn’t crying. “I know I was an asshole this morning. I was a fucking cup of coffee, and I should’ve just let it go, but I didn’t because I suck, but y-you didn’t have to do this.” She slowed, worried about the knot in her throat that told her tears were on the horizon if she didn’t shut up.
Cardan had gone from concerned to looking at her as though she had three heads, but his face finally settled into one of recognition. “Nicasia and Valerian found you, I take it.”
Jude glared in response, hiccuping from the effort of forcing herself not to cry.
Cardan drank her in. She found herself, for the second time today, cursing the fact that he was so beautiful. It was the cheekbones, she decided. The cheekbones had made her lower her guard, and that is why she had a momentary lapse in judgement that she should allow him to even pretend to comfort her.
He opened his mouth, and she tensed, preparing for the hit, preparing for war. But his lips resealed themselves. He turned and walked out of the apartment without another word.
Jude let her defenses crack, and her face twisted into the ugly sob she had held in for so long. As she went to shower the stench of coffee beans out of her hair, the thought repeating in her head was that she couldn’t believe he just walked away like she wasn’t even worth the fight.
***
It was simultaneously surprising and yet completely unexpected, the way Cardan began to avoid Jude. She saw only the back of his head as he left the apartment or his side profile in their ethics lecture of 200 other students. She wanted to feel at ease now. But she didn’t. Originally she felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but then even Nicasia and Valerian ignored her. All she got from them was a sour look and an eye roll before they would continue on their way.
That’s not to say that things became uninteresting. There were simply different players involved. A member of Cardan’s circle of bullies returned from his trip abroad. The official story was that the trip was related to his art history degree, but Vivi suspected that the true reason lay with the scandal his parents were trying to cover up. There was usually a scandal in one of their families to be covered up.
Locke was an unusual addition to Cardan’s troupe in that he didn’t outwardly seem as cruel or sinister as the others, but there were rumors of gaslighting exes and messy love triangles that gave Jude cause for suspicion, that and that he was friends with Cardan in the first place.
Storm clouds were just rolling in as Jude walked out of her ethics lecture–a respectable distance behind Cardan so as to not make herself a target–the bully troupe was waiting for him. As conflicted as Jude felt towards whatever the dynamic between her and Cardan shifted towards after that day of feigned concern, she was very clear about how his friends felt about her.
The beginning rain made Jude want to curse every weatherman in existence. It had said nothing about rain on the forecast, and now she had to walk for 10 minutes in rain that was clearly not going to let up. Cardan should have been in the same boat, but his friends had drawn him under their oversized umbrellas. Jude shook away traitorous thoughts about walking home with him, and how the rain might soften his features and change the look of his thin white button-down.
Painstakingly aware of his presence, she tried to move through the cluster of other poli-sci students while his back was turned. She sneaked one more glance to see if she had gotten away with it, if she could leave without fuss. Cardan’s dark, curly locks were beginning to uncurl, weighed down by the surrounding moisture in the air. He had turned slightly to face Nicasia, a mean smirk on his face. Jude wondered if he ever smiled, how he might look if he did. It was wondering that while staring at him that was her first mistake. Her second one was locking eyes with Nicasia.
Nicasia’s lips pulled back into a sneer, her eyes flicking from Cardan to Jude, clearly having caught her staring. “And what do you want?”
Jude refused to bow to them and held Nicasia’s gaze. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Cardan’s head whip around to look at her, but she kept her eyes on Nicasia. “Nothing. It seems I’ll be going back to the apartment first, that’s all.” She prayed that they couldn’t see how her cheeks burned.
“Best you hurry, before the whole student body can see through that shirt of yours.” Nicasia and Valerian descended into snickering.
Jude glanced down at her shirt. She had–much like Cardan–chosen to wear a white button-down shirt, one that was already starting to show the dark green outline of her bra. Her embarrassment filling her with hatred and spite, she lifted her gaze, only to meet Cardan’s eyes. He was unreadable, his eyes boring into hers. She hoped she looked furious, but she imagined she looked as pathetic as she felt. Nicasa’s manicured hand found its way to Cardan’s shoulder, sliding closer to his chest. Jude once again turned her focus to Nicasia. She smirked unkindly, flaunting her position in relation to Cardan, and Jude didn’t know why she thought that would bother her, nor did she know why it did.
“Now, enough of that. You can have my umbrella.” Locke broke from the pack to stand before her, offering the long black umbrella with a fox-like grin on his face.
“I can’t take that. You’ll have nothing.” If Jude was being honest, she definitely could take it, and she wanted to. The rain was already soaking through her shirt, chilling her bones. But Jude was not often honest.
“I’ve got a raincoat,” He gestured to the rather flamboyant orange and green waterproof jacket, “just say you owe me one.”
Jude narrowed her eyes at him, “I’d rather be drenched and freezing than owe any of you anything.” She folded her arms across her chest, hoping to cover the see-through nature of her shirt as well as maintain some of her body heat. She risked a glance at the rest of the group, but they were watching with interest. They all looked rather excited to see how it unfolded, all except Cardan, who had turned his icy gaze towards Locke.
Locke drew her attention again with his chuckle, “Very well. There is no debt. Just take the umbrella.”
Jude knew this was too good to be true, but at this point, all she wanted was to go home and be done with them. She didn’t want to walk home shivering once again. She extended her hand, gripping the umbrella’s handle, “thanks.”
Locke’s grin never wavered.
The walk home was less eventful, and Jude supposed she should be glad, but all she really felt was that she had no idea what was going on.