"You remember the fight?" Jude asked.
"No. Jason told me about it."
Jude nodded. "You don't remember anything, then?"
I shook my head. "Not really."
"Is that weird?" he asked. "I've never blacked out before."
"Neither have I," I said. I remembered drinking, but I really didn't think I'd had that much to drink. The whole thing was weird. I buttoned my khakis thoughtfully. "Jason said something about that guy outside the tent. Like he said something about me."
Jude raised his eyebrows. "What did he say?"
I was probably being paranoid. "Jude, you don't think I was like roofied or something, do you?"
Now that I was fully dressed, Jude was looking right at me. "Why would you think that?"
"Jason said that when he found me I was only wearing my bikini. And the guy told him to save him seconds."
Jude made a horrified face. "Eew."
"Yeah."
"Well, are you okay? I mean, do you think . . .?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine. I mean, I don't think that happened. But maybe someone was trying?"
Jude crossed to me and hugged me tightly. "Omigod," he said. "I am so sorry. I will never leave you alone at a party again."
Work would have been torturous without Jude. He kept me laughing, whispering jokes about what the customers were wearing or saying when no one was looking. I really liked Jude. He was one of my favorite things about living in Florida. I'd always wanted to live someplace like this. Someplace warm. Near a beach. And being able to be close to Jason was a definite plus. Jason was my soul mate. Nothing could be too bad whenever he was around. But in all honesty, my life was far from perfect anymore.
Six months ago, my biggest problem had been that I thought I was the oldest virgin on earth. I wasn't a virgin anymore, but sometimes, I almost wished I could go back to my life before. Then, my parents were alive, and I loved them. I lived in a busy, crowded home full of teenage foster boys, but I didn't realize how great it was to feel loved like that. I didn't realize how great it was to trust people implicitly. Now, I didn't trust anyone. I had nightmares a lot. I dreamed about my parents getting shot. I'd see it over and over again, in slow motion. The surprised look on their faces. The blood. The way their bodies had crumpled. In the worst dreams, the ones that always made me sit up straight in bed, screaming, I'd see Jason's face when he was shooting the members of the Sons who'd killed my parents. He looked determined and dangerous. Frenzied. Angry.
After that nightmare, Jason would rush into my room, and he'd be so sweet and comforting that I'd wonder how I could ever feel frightened of him. He was perfect. He was wonderful. He was mine. He wasn't scary.
But other times, when the dream didn't go that far, I wouldn't wake up without screaming, just seeing the image of my dead parents engraved on the back of my eyelids. And I'd think about other things. I'd think about Michaela Weem, Jason's crazy mother, who had screamed at me that together Jason and I would destroy things. She had told me that Jason was destined for violence on a grand scale. She had wanted me to kill Jason. Michaela Weem had believed that Jason was too dangerous to live. And she'd been able to convince a lot of people that she was right. I tried to tell myself she wasn't. I loved Jason more than life. I would die for him. I would kill for him. He was all that I had.
But Michaela had been right about one thing. Once. She'd told us that together Jason and I would "drive men mad." And we had. When we kissed, a whole group of the Sons had stopped shooting and completely lost their minds. If she'd been right about that, maybe she was right about . . . But no. No. Jason was not going to enslave the world. I didn't think that. Irefused to think that.
Between freaking out about the Sons trying to kill me, reliving the trauma of my murdered parents, and worrying that my boyfriend was actually the anti-christ (instead of the messiah, which was what the Sons thought), my life was not exactly a cakewalk. I longed for the days when I worried about my history exam or whether girls at school were gossiping about me. All of that just seemed ridiculous and childish now. Sometimes, I felt very old. Jude was right. Jason was intense. Ever since he'd appeared in my life, everything had been intense.
That was why I liked Jude so much. He made me feel normal, like a regular teenage girl again. One who thought about parties and boys and make-up. I used to think that kind of stuff was shallow, but now I wished like hell it was all I thought about. I missed it. I felt like my innocence had been stolen or something.
Thanks to Jude, the six hours of my shift went by pretty quickly. Afterwards, we sat outside of the theater, drinking huge sodas (one of the perks of working at movie theater). I was waiting for Jason to pick me up. We only had one car, and I hadn't wanted to monopolize it. Jude was just hanging out with me.