Chapter Text
There was an art to sneaking in past curfew, and if Judd had mastered any kind of art in his life, he had mastered the art of sneaking in. When he turned into his neighborhood, he slowed down enough that the car drifted into the driveway, and as he parked the truck, he would look into the windows and see which light his parents still had on. Usually, they waited for him in the living room, so he would sneak in through the back door – which did creak, but he had figured out a way to get past that – and creep upstairs, change into his pajamas, and head back downstairs to ask what his parents were still doing up.
His parents, however, knew better than that.
When Judd pulled up in the driveway that Friday night, he saw the lights on in both the kitchen and the living room, and he groaned, resting his head against the steering wheel. With one parent in either room, there was no doubt that his ass was in the sling, so he might as well get out of the car and face the music.
He sighed heavily, grabbed his jacket, and turned off the truck. I just wish I was sober. It would make things easier on me.
Judd entered the house through the front door, and his mother sat in her chair, arms crossed, lips pressed in a thin line, and eyes narrowed. He bit back a groan and placed the keys in the little bowl by the front door.
“Where have you been, young man?”
He waved a hand, trying to dismiss the question, and slipped out of the living room, only for his father to step out from the kitchen and block his path. “Dad, come on, I’m tired –”
His dad, though shorter than Judd was, was no less intimidating. In fact, if Judd had to take his pick between his mom biting his head off or his father disappointedly shaking his head, Judd would take his mom.
“Judd, where have you been?”
Judd shrugged and scratched the inside of his forearm. “I don’t know, Dad, what do you want to hear? I’ve been where I said I was going to be, and I stayed longer than expected. Now can I just go to my room?”
His mom stood up from her chair and leaned against the door frame. “Judd, that doesn’t answer any of our questions. You said you would be at the library.”
“So I stayed longer than expected.”
“The library closes at ten on Fridays.”
“So I stayed at the library until closing, then drove around to find myself some dinner.”
He could see the tears in his mother’s eyes, but instead of crying, instead of screaming and shouting at him, like he truly wished she would, she just sniffled and shook her head. “You were with those friends of yours, weren’t you? Where was the party?”
“There was no party, Mom, I can promise –”
“Judd, you must think we’re idiots.”
Kind of, yeah, I do.
His mother reached out and gently touched his arm. “Your eyes are bloodshot. Are you high?”
Now, the thing was, Judd knew that he did some pretty illegal shit. He knew that drinking underage was pretty bad, he knew that driving under the influence risked the lives of many, he knew that sleeping with a senior college girl when he was only sixteen was really, really sketchy, but he didn’t typically care about any of that. The college girl was the second best girl he had ever slept with, and he loved the way beer tasted. He would recognize his faults. But he didn’t do drugs. That was where he drew the line.
He shook his mother’s hand off of him. “Mom, are you fucking insane? I haven’t touched –”
“Don’t talk to your mother that way!”
“I’m trying to tell her that I’m not high, Dad! I haven’t been high since –”
“Since what? Since you crashed the car into a tree and got yourself damn near killed?” His father’s voice, though quiet, shook with anger. “We have the right to ask if you’re high, Judd.”
Judd sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “That was seven months ago,” he said quietly. “I haven’t even touched a joint or bong since then. I go to those meetings. I’m clean.”
“Then, Judd Thompson Jr.,” his mother said, “pray tell, why are your eyes bloodshot?”
No matter what he said, he was screwed. His father was close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath. His father was usually the one to clean up his hungover messes. His father knew, and he would be punished either way.
He sighed. “I’m drunk. I had a few too many at the party.”
“And you drove home?!”
“Of fucking course I drove home, you guys are fucking Nazis about curfew and getting your precious car back to you!”
“Don’t –”
“– talk to my mother that way, yeah, I fucking know!” He pushed his hands through his hair and pressed his back to the wall. “Do you realize that I would call a fucking Uber if you guys let me?”
His dad gripped Judd’s shoulder, not as a threat, not as a warning, but as a tether. “Do you realize that you could have killed yourself and others trying to drive home? Just how drunk are you?”
“I’m not that drunk!”
His dad chuckled, but it lacked all trace of humor, and Judd startled when he saw the rage in his father’s eyes. “Right, yeah, ‘not that drunk,’” he echoed. “And which girl did you sleep with this time? The college girl that we could press charges against? Another older woman? Please, do tell.”
“Why the hell do you think I’ve slept with anyone?”
“It’s always the same with you, Judd. You think you’re better than everyone –”
“Shut up, Dad. You didn’t answer my questio–”
“Don’t you dare talk to me that way!”
When his father bellowed, Judd shrunk back, ducking his head. He chanced a glance at his mother, who no longer held back her tears, just looked at him in disappointment. His father’s face was red. And Judd knew when he was beat.
He swallowed heavily. “I’m, uh,” he said, scratching his eyebrow, “I’m going up to my room. I’ll try and sober up.”
“You do that,” his father spit at him venomously. “And think –”
“Think about what I’ve said and done, yeah, I get it. I just – sorry.” As Judd climbed the stairs, he saw his twin siblings cowering on the top landing, holding each other and crying.
He felt like a piece of shit.
***
The usual punishment was an extreme grounding, no phone, no car, and church. Church was expected from his family, but he had been able to weasel his way out of it under the excuse of “I have a lot of tests to study for,” but his parents no longer trusted that excuse. They would drag him out of his room by his ear, while he was literally kicking and screaming, and the only thing that ever got him to stop was his little brother looking at him with tears in his eyes.
That night, after he passed his siblings on the landing, he slammed his bedroom door and tossed his jacket on his bed. His head already pounded with the threat of a manifesting hangover, and he groaned, pushing his way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet.
He just wanted to get the hell out of here. He wanted to make his own decisions. He wanted to be able to stay out as long as he wished and come back in without the threat of being yelled at whenever he stepped foot in the house five minutes late.
He was sixteen, going on seventeen, and he could make his own decisions. He knew that, if he was going to be forced to do anything with his life, he was going to be a doctor. He didn’t want to study that much, but he could. He liked the idea of being Dr. Judd Thompson, in a place where people didn’t know he was a “junior” or that he screwed up his youth.
The cold water on his face didn’t help, and he knew he still smelled like alcohol and sex, so he stepped back, turned on the shower, and stripped off his clothes.
He’d snap the redhead girl he slept with later. Warn her that his parents weren’t going to let him touch his phone for the rest of the weekend and they’d only give him a flip phone for school in case of emergencies.
As for now, he was going to get rid of the image of his crying siblings from his brain.
***
The only exception Judd ever got for his “no electronics, no car, no fun” punishment was his weekly Thursday night movie nights with his little siblings. Each week, Piper and Philip took turns choosing a movie for the three of them to watch. Both of them were currently on their Scooby-Doo hyperfixation, so Judd had changed their ringtones on his phone to the theme song of “What’s New, Scooby Doo?” and “Scooby Doo, Where Are You?”
After staring at his wall in protest for three hours after school, Judd slowly creeped down the stairs, tucking his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. “Mom?” he asked, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Is it okay if I watch Scooby Doo with the twins?”
His mom looked up from her dinner and nodded without saying a word. As Judd turned to head into the living room, his mom said, “Judd?”
He stopped and turned around, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something he’d regret. “Yeah?”
“Can you get the mail before you start watching tv? I’m busy right now and your father won’t be in for another hour –”
“Why do I have to do everything?”
His mom raised her eyebrows, and Judd groaned internally. “Oh, you do everything in this household? When was the last time you made dinner? Or vacuumed your room? Or cleaned the toilets? When was the last time you did any of your chores?” She shook her head and resumed eating. “Judd, I’m not in the mood. You’re grounded, and if you want to keep your movie time with your siblings, go get the mail.”
Judd clenched his jaw and stormed out the front door without another word. As he flipped through the mail, he stopped at the edge of his driveway and furrowed his brow. “Why did Wells Fargo just send me something?” He looked around and lifted the envelope out of the stack and eyed it carefully. It was thicker than the rest of the envelopes, and he could feel the edge of a credit card in the envelope.
He was barely old enough to have a debit card, let alone a credit card. It was a mistake. It had to be.
Maybe having the same name as his dad wasn’t the worst thing in the world, after all. Judd didn’t believe in God – at least, not like the rest of his family believed in God – but he figured this was God’s way of telling him to get away. Either way, if he was just making it up or if it really was God, Judd whispered a silent prayer and slipped the envelope into his sweatshirt pocket.
He was still grounded, but if he played nice, he could get ungrounded sooner than expected. He’d do double his chores tomorrow. Actually, that would be suspicious – he’d do two more chores than normal, and he’d start studying, and he would slowly work on running away. Yeah. That oughta do it.
When Judd walked back inside, he ruffled his brother’s hair and walked into the kitchen. “It’s all boring,” he said, gently setting it on the counter. “Is it okay if I make some popcorn for Philip and Piper? I know their pizza hasn’t come yet, but it does help with the mood –”
His mom narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you suddenly in a good mood?”
He licked his lips and started picking at his palms. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I always look forward to spending time with the twins.”
His mom studied him for another moment before gesturing to the pantry. “You know they’re going to want sodas. They can’t have any until the pizza gets here.”
He saluted his mom and sidestepped to the pantry, tearing open a package of popcorn. “Yes ma’am.” Once the popcorn was in the microwave, he poked his head in the living room. “Hey, guys? You want M&Ms in your popcorn?”
“Yes!”
“Absolutely not!”
Judd rolled his eyes and grabbed another package of popcorn and a bag of M&Ms. “How is it that they have literally spent their entire existence together and have such different tastes?”
His mom hummed. “Maybe the same way I birthed all of you, but only the twins listen to your father or me.”
He winced. “Touché, I guess.”
“You’re going to church this weekend, Judd. And I want you to take notes over the sermon.”
“That’s not fair!”
His mom looked up. “Judd, I’m tired of fighting. I know you’re not a Christian, and I know you don’t care, but at the very least, it’s time spent with family. Someday, you’re going to want these times back. Just try to make the most of it.”
The microwave beeped, and Judd pulled out a bowl and poured the first package of popcorn into it. He placed the other package into the microwave, pressed the timer, and emptied the M&Ms into the first bowl. “But why do I have to take notes?”
“Because it’s the only thing that will keep you from falling asleep or thinking about how much you hate your father and me. Besides, I like to have notes over everything that was said, and your siblings can’t write that fast. Do it for me, Judd.”
The microwave beeped again, and he sighed heavily. “Fine. But I’m doing it under protest.”
***
Philip fell asleep on Judd’s shoulder and Piper fell asleep on his stomach. With great difficulty, Judd turned off the tv and waited for his dad to float through the living room again. When his dad stepped out to get a snack, Judd gestured for him to come closer. “Can you take Philip?” he whispered. “I don’t want to wake either of them.”
His father nodded and leaned over the armrest, slipping one hand under Philip’s knees. Philip’s head lolled against his father’s chest, and once Judd could move without waking Philip, he picked up Piper and followed his father up the stairs.
Judd ducked into Piper’s room, gently set her on her bed, and peeled back the covers. Once she was all tucked in for the night, he smoothed her hair, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep tight, little sis. Love you.”
When Judd straightened up, he found his father leaning against the doorway. Understanding passed between them, and Judd offered his father one nod before slipping out of Piper’s room.
The credit card was still in his pocket.
***
While his siblings were on a four-day school week, Prospect High had not quite caught onto the idea of having a shorter school week, so Judd was stuck in school that fateful Friday afternoon. He still had the flip phone his parents gave him. He could still make the call.
During his lunch hour, Judd slipped out of the cafeteria and placed a call to the bank. The teller on the phone asked him the basic questions: date of birth, mother’s maiden name, things like that. Judd was smart enough to know to deepen his voice, use his father’s birthday, and give his grandmother’s maiden name.
By the end of lunch, he was thousands of dollars richer. He had free use of the credit card, and it was too easy.
He almost forgot that he hadn’t eaten lunch.
***
That weekend, he regained car privileges, but his curfew was much stricter: he had to be home by dinnertime, or else he would be punished far more severely. He got his computer and cell phone back and traded in the flip phone.
Judd nearly prostrated himself at his parents’ feet, but he figured that would be going too far, so he just thanked them, grabbed his backpack, and told them that he would be going to the library.
For the first time since he started driving, it wasn’t a lie.
Before Judd went to the library, he stopped by the ATM and withdrew about $600 in cash, stuffing the money in the secret compartment of his backpack. Once at the library, he pushed his way to the back, found a quiet study room, and slipped inside.
The lights were harsh on his eyes, and he winced to himself, wishing that he could do something about the fluorescent lights, but he was only here for a little while. A few people passed outside of his study room, so he pulled out his AP Bio textbook, and they nodded in understanding.
Fucking morons.
Once he knew he wouldn’t be bothered, he flipped open to chapter 17, opened his laptop, and searched for flights to London, England.
He was getting the hell out of Mount Prospect, Illinois, and nothing – not even God Himself, if God really did anything – could stop him.
***
For some reason, when Judd got back from the library at 5:30, his box of Bible bee trophies was sticking out from underneath his bed.
He glanced over his shoulder and let his backpack fall from his shoulder. “Mom?” he called. “Dad? Pipe? Philip? Did any of you guys mess with my room?”
Philip poked his head in the room. “Piper and I were messing around with a tennis ball, and it rolled underneath your bed. We just went looking for it.”
Judd rolled his eyes and tossed his backpack on his bed. “Then why don’t you move stuff back, Philip?”
“Because Mom was coming, and you know the rules about balls in the house.”
Judd had to bite back a sexual remark, mostly because Philip wouldn’t understand and because his mom was coming down the hall.
“You called?” His mom wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.
He waved a hand in dismissal. “I was just wondering if someone had been in here. Philip just lost something, that’s all.”
His mother pursed her lips. “If you say so…”
Philip grinned sweetly, far too much for what could possibly be labeled as innocently, and slowly shuffled out of Judd’s room. “Yep. That’s all I was in here for. And I found the thing! So, uh, see ya!” He lifted his hand in a little wave and darted back to Piper’s room.
Judd’s mom followed Philip with her eyes before turning back to Judd. “Was he playing ball in the house?”
Judd spread his hands in defeat, pushing his box of Bible bee trophies under his bed. “How would I know? I just got back home.”
His mom laughed softly and shook her head, taking one step into his room. “Well, I do suppose it was my own fault for asking you.”
He grinned and pushed a hand through his hair.
His mom bit her top lip and carefully pulled out his desk chair and sat down. “So, how was the library? Get any studying done?”
Truthfully, Judd hated going to the library. It was sterile and quiet, and he liked white noise and soft light and warm tones, but he wasn’t going to tell her any of that. Instead, he shrugged. “It was alright. I mean, I spent a lot of my time studying bio, so I wasn’t too big a fan. At the very least, I’m more prepared for the final.”
His mom nodded. “Well, that’s good! Are you going back tomorrow?”
Later, when Judd was asked what the most defining moment of his life was, he would always say this one. He might have backed out of his runaway fantasy, he might have broken down and told his parents if he spent time thinking about what he was about to do, but when he was presented with the opportunity to have the car again and continue with his deception, the answer was too easy. He assumed that it would have been an unquestionable no from his mother, but now…
He smiled and nodded slowly. “If that’s okay with you.”
***
There were some things that Judd just knew weren’t real. He had known since he was three that Santa didn’t exist because it just didn’t make sense for him to be able to go everywhere in a single night, and he always did something that should have put him on the naughty list, but he ended up getting the presents he wanted anyways. Bigfoot, likewise, probably didn’t exist. Neither did physical manifestations of ghosts.
Going with the theme of “things that weren’t real” and the sermon of the year, Judd knew that the Rapture was never going to happen, mostly because it was never explicitly mentioned biblically, and he couldn’t find where people thought it was going to happen. It was a theological concept.
Of course, if he wanted to get out of the country by Friday, he had to play nice.
His mother turned around, straining against her seatbelt and rested her hand on the console. “So, how did you all like church today?”
Philip and Piper just shrugged. “He used a lot of big words,” Philip said, licking his ice cream.
Piper glared at him. “Maybe if you’d read a book once in a while, you’d understand what he said.”
“Did you get anything today?”
Piper pursed her lips and looked at the floor. “No…”
Philip beamed, his ice cream dribbling down his shirt. Their mother glared at him. “See? I’m always right.”
Piper rolled her eyes, and their mother turned her attention to Judd. “Judd? What did you think?”
“Um…” he nodded slowly, thinking of how to say I think our pastor is a fucking idiot without losing his car privileges. “He sure knows what he’s talking about. I have the notes you wanted, by the way.”
It had been a long time since Judd had seen their mother as happy as she was that day. For once, her lips curved into a smile instead of frowning at him, and her brow was no longer wrinkled with worry or anger. She looked younger, and he forgot that she was only thirty-seven. It was kind of hard for him to remember when she yelled at him.
“Oh, you keep them, Judd. I’ll look up the sermon later, if I missed anything.”
Well, fuck me.
“Thanks, Mom.” As their dad pulled into the neighborhood, he cleared his throat. “Is it okay if I use the car to go to the library? I have to keep studying for bio.”
“Didn’t you study for bio yesterday?” Philip tilted his head all the way back, staring at Judd past his forehead.
Judd laughed softly and tousled Philip’s hair. “I did, but I think I might want to be a doctor someday. I should know biology as well as I can.”
His dad sat up straighter and locked eyes with Judd through the rearview mirror. “Really? I haven’t heard about this before.”
Judd shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, unbuckling and leaning forward. Philip and Piper giggled. “It’s a new development. Sorry I’m probably not going to inherit your business, but…” he gently tugged on Piper’s braids and she stuck her tongue out at him, not masking the true anger that flashed in her eyes. He held up his hands in surrender. “Maybe Pipes here can take over for you. I know it’s typically a father-son thing, but we all know Pipes loves this kind of thing.”
Judd Sr. pulled the family car into the garage and chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. At any rate, we have time, and you can have the car to go to the library.”
Piper and Philip scooted out of the car, Piper grabbing Philip’s ice cream before he could ruin his Sunday clothes any further. “Judd, I don’t think you’re gonna be a doctor. You have to work to do that.”
He rolled his eyes and clambered out of the SUV after her. “I think you’d be surprised what I can do when I set my mind to it.”
***
For the first time since he made up his mind to run away, Judd had second thoughts. After coming from his Marijuana Anonymous meeting – mandatory for him, his parents said – and holding up the chip that said he was seven months clean, his entire family celebrated with him. Philip stood on his chair and whooped as loud as he could. Piper squeezed his leg to death with the tightest hug she could manage. His mother hugged him with tears in her eyes – happy tears, this time, unlike the usual angry or disappointed tears – and pushed her hair away from her face, promising to make his favorite meal for dinner while he took it easy. Even his father hugged him and said past a gruff voice, “I’m proud of you, son.”
Don’t be proud of me, he had wanted to say. You don’t know the worst of what I’ve done. I’m not worthy of that.
But he was seven months sober. At least, he was seven months sober of pot. Alcohol, well, even he recognized that he should work on that, and maybe it would get better when he got to London, maybe it would get worse, but all he knew was that he was tired. He wanted to step outside his room, find his parents’ bedroom, and crawl into bed between them, not speaking, not moving, just laying there as each regret passed behind his eyes before he would finally turn on his back and tell them everything.
They were so fucking proud of him.
Before Judd got hooked on pot and alcohol, he didn’t understand how big a deal it was for each individual baby step to becoming sober. He internally laughed at the people who had only been clean for a day or a week, wondering why it was so celebrated. Then he started smoking pot, and he couldn’t stop, and he would drive his car with the passenger and back windows rolled down, and he would walk the hallways with the buzz in his head, and he would sneak out of class and into a broken bathroom stall, and he couldn’t get enough and suddenly the front of the car was mashed into a tree trunk and his forehead was bloody and he couldn’t remember his first, middle, or last name.
He faced the possibility of juvie, he faced the possibility of going to jail, even. And he was scared, he knew his parents weren’t the type of people to just say “oh, he’s a kid, he’ll get more mature as time passes,” and he was just so, so scared that he was going to jail and he was going to be alone and with all these criminals and he was just so scared that he begged his parents to help him, that he was messed up, and all he remembered from that night was his mom smoothing his hair and his dad holding his hand and both of them saying how so, so glad they were that he was alive.
And maybe it was white privilege or rich privilege, but either way, Judd got out of jail or juvie time and instead did mandated community service that did not count towards service hours for various school clubs and programs. And every time he was on the stretch of road where he had wrecked his car, his body tensed up and his brain screamed at him “STOP STOP STOP STOP” and he just wanted to set his garbage bag down and cry because he was just a kid, how the fuck did he get this far in over his head?
You’d think that the car wreck was enough to get Judd to quit pot, but it wasn’t. It was a wake-up call, that was for certain, but he was addicted, and addicts don’t just stop. He smoked less, and he took the bus to school after the wreck, so he was really only able to do it on weekends at parties. And he hated it, he hated that he couldn’t remember a single name of the various girls he had slept with, he hated that he could hardly remember their faces or their hair colors, and he hated, he fucking hated, that both of them were too intoxicated to make a reasonable decision and that neither of them were consenting under sobriety, and God, he felt like a piece of fucking trash.
That was when he decided to ask his parents for help.
His siblings didn’t really know what was going on. They knew that there was something different about their brother, that he was no longer the person they looked up to. Whenever he tried to hang out with them – he was high, he was always fucking high – Philip would shake his head and push Piper into one of their rooms or drag her outside and give some excuse as to why he couldn’t be a part of their game. They asked their mom what was wrong with Judd, and their mother – before she knew for certain, before Judd and the cops and the doctors confirmed – just said that Judd wasn’t feeling himself.
And what was stupid was there was no reason for Judd to get hooked; he just did. He wasn’t in a poor neighborhood that saw oppression every day, he wasn’t beaten or abused, all that happened was that he was bored and rebellious and a fucking idiot, and he hated himself, he hated himself so fucking much because he could have been driving with his siblings in the car when it crashed, he could have seriously hurt people, and even that wasn’t fucking enough to stop him.
After Judd asked for help, his parents helped him research Marijuana Anonymous meetings, and he showed up, barely sixteen years old, twisting his hands in his shirt and shrinking into his hoodie. He mentioned that it was his first day to go without smoking, and they clapped, they were proud of him, and he couldn’t be proud of himself. They warned him about withdrawals. He figured it wouldn’t be too bad.
And then he was curled up after every meal, cramps and nausea passing in waves, and he held his stomach and groaned with a trash can by his bed, and his mom would sit by him and rub his back and he would choke on his tears because why the hell did she still love him, didn’t she see what he had done to her, himself, his siblings? Why did she still love him? Why did his family still love him? Why were they still there, why weren’t they fucking kicking him to the curb like he deserved?
And the withdrawals got worse, he got headaches the size of Minneapolis and he would yell at his family members and retreat into his room, unable to do anything but close his eyes and hope it would go away, but then he would fall asleep and he would jerk and twist and have nightmares about the police dragging him away, about a redhead girl with cigarette scars on her arms and she would say “I’m fine,” and he fucking knew it wasn’t, and he knew that he knew her, but when he’d wake up, shivering and sweating and crying, he couldn’t tell you her name. He couldn’t tell you anything except how much he wanted to smoke another joint, and his parents would hold him and squeeze his hand, and they fucking loved him, and fuck, he didn’t deserve it.
They were still proud of him, seven months later. And maybe it would have been easier if they had expectations for him: if they expected him to be clean every month and passed off each monthly and weekly and daily accomplishment, or if they expected that he’d fail. It would be easy to run away then. But they didn’t expect anything of him, they only expected him to do his best in regards to being clean, and he did, he did his absolute fucking best, and that was all they asked of him, and he didn’t know if he could do it anymore.
He was just a fucking kid, what the hell did he think was going to happen to him once he got to London?
***
He was leaving that day. After going to sleep and tossing and turning all night, he decided that he was going to stick with it for the time being. His parents would find out eventually – sooner rather than later, he supposed – and they would drag his ass back to the States, and he would get the lecture of the fucking century, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they gave him every single punishment they could think of, including – but not limited to – the state penalty for identity theft.
Which led to Judd sitting on his bed, laptop on his thighs, as he furiously logged into his bank account. He knew how much money he had stolen, and he knew how to hack the bank just enough that the charges didn’t show up on his father’s account. Ten thousand dollars was hard to explain away.
Speaking of the ten thousand dollars he had stolen, if he was caught, and if his parents pressed charges – which he half-expected they would, once they found him in London – he would face up to fifteen years in prison. Likely, he would face around six or seven years in prison, if he went to trial, since he only took $10,000, but still. It wasn’t like he wanted to go to prison. He just wanted to get away for a little bit. Breathe. Have some freedom.
“Whatcha doin’, Judd?”
Judd quite nearly yelped and snapped his laptop shut, tucking it under his thigh. “Haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“Mom said we could have movie night tonight since we were celebrating you last night. That was really cool!”
“Get out of my room.” Seven years is a long time, he thought. It’s a long time without seeing Philip. I can’t get caught.
“Judd, can’t we just watch a movie? You’re done with school for the week!”
More like done with school forever. Judd resisted the urge to stand, knowing that Philip would dart across the room and open his laptop, and then he’d turn to Judd with a furrowed brow and ask why he was looking up identity theft. “Philip, get out. I’m not in the mood. I have to study.”
Philip twisted his lips and crossed his arms. “You’ve been studying a lot for the past few weeks. Can’t you just take a break? Piper and I really wanna see this new mov–”
Judd rolled his eyes and growled. “I’m not taking a break. Just– Philip, get out of my room!”
“Why are you mad at me?”
“You won’t get out of my room, that’s why!”
As if he wanted to further annoy Judd, Philip took another step into Judd’s room. “Judd, I have a question for you.”
Judd lifted his eyebrows, staring over the rim of his glasses. “Will you get out if I answer it?”
Philip shrugged, unbothered by Judd’s twitching arm that threatened to grab his signed baseball and send it towards his head. “Maybe. I might have a follow-up question or two.”
“Fucking spit it out, Philip Roy.”
Philip narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, and Judd felt a stab in his heart. That was the same look Judd gave most everyone in his family, especially when he had started smoking and had to go without for a few hours. Philip was starting to look more like him, and Judd just– Philip needed to be better than him.
“Don’t use my full name.”
It’s not worth it; you’re leaving tonight, you don’t want to leave on bad terms with the twins.
Except you kind of already are, you’re leaving on movie night and ditching them.
Judd, instead of fighting, just waved a hand. “What is it?”
“Were you ever a Christian?”
Judd scoffed, thinking, at first, that Philip was joking, but one glance at Philip’s crystal-clear eyes, devoid of all humor, silenced his laughter. He cleared his throat. “No,” he admitted, “I was never a Christian. I think God does exist, and I’m not lying about that, but I just– I wasn’t ready for that big a life change. Maybe I’ll do all the right things later, but I just can’t right now. Does that make sense?”
Philip blinked and shook his head. “Nope. If you believe all –”
“Phil?” Judd plastered a strained smile on his face. “I don’t need a fucking sermon. Don’t give it to me.”
“Judd, do you realize what you’re doing to Mom and Dad?”
I’m going to be late for my flight. “No, Phil, please tell me. It’s not like I don’t realize that I’m the family disappointment or anything.”
“Are you smoking again? Are you going through withdrawals?”
“Why the fuck would you think that?” Despite his promise to himself to stay sitting, Judd stood so quickly that his laptop fell to the ground. “I wouldn’t touch a fucking joint if you paid me!”
“You acted like this the last time you were going through withdrawals!”
“I’m tired, Philip! Now get out of my room!”
Philip shook his head slowly, and Judd could handle his parents’ disappointment, he dealt with it nigh daily, but seeing his brother, all of nine years old, shaking his head with pure disappointment and sadness damn near broke him. If he was uncertain about his decision before, Philip just reaffirmed it.
“Mom cries about you, you know that? She cries about you, and you just keep doing the same old stuff that makes her keep crying.”
“Out!” Judd gripped Philip’s shoulder and pushed him out of his room, pulling the door closed and locking it before Philip could try to get back inside.
It’s not too late. Seven years is a long time, you can back out, you can just call it quits and admit to your parents what you’re about to do. You can make up with Philip and Piper and have movie night. It’s not too late.
He pulled out all of his textbooks from his backpack, shoving all of them underneath his bed. He put most of the cash in his sock, grabbed a couple of shirts, jeans, underwear, and socks, and shoved them into his bag. He checked that there was enough room, then he grabbed his computer and chargers, shoving them into the remaining space.
He was really doing this. He was really running away.
His brain shut off, and he hurried down the stairs, and he remembered that his mouth formed words and he told his mom that he was going to study some more for bio because of his newfound desire to be a doctor, and she said that would be okay, and he shrugged his backpack higher up his shoulders, and Philip just crossed his arms and glared at him, and Judd tousled his hair and promised him and Piper that they would have a movie night when he got back, maybe even that same night if Mom would allow it, and Mom smiled as the twins immediately turned their attention to her and begged her.
He remembered lifting his hand in a wave and grabbing the keys from the bowl by the front door. He didn’t remember crying on the way to the airport, but based on his puffy eyes and the way they stung as he parked, he probably was.
He was going to be fine. He was a big kid. He could handle anything.
***
His biggest fear was that his flight would be delayed or cancelled entirely. His leg jiggled up and down, and he wiped his hands on his jeans. A few of the older passengers glared at him, and he smiled in the most convincing manner he could manage before he pulled out his passport and ID.
They weren’t real. After consulting an old friend of his, he found this guy named Zeke Zuckermandel who made scary real fake IDs. It could even pass the phosphorus test, and when Judd raised this issue of concern with him, Zeke waved a hand in dismissal and said that he could get past that and damn, you’re the first customer I’ve had who was ever concerned about the phosphorus test.
His heart raced when he went through security, and it raced now, as he continued to glance at the gate.
Finally, they called everyone to board, and Judd found his way into the 747, settling in his assigned seat next to an older man. Judd just nodded at him, and the man nodded back, and Judd pulled out his laptop to make it seem like he was an Adult, but he felt like a kid. He felt like a stupid, scared little kid who was throwing the biggest tantrum of his life.
He opened his tumblr account, pressed the text button, and started ranting about the decision he had made, the pros and the cons of it, but once the flight attendant passed by their row, he hung his head, shut his laptop, and gritted his teeth.
I can do this, he tried to tell himself.
I can’t do this, he reminded himself.