Like when Colin came back early from a delivery and said to me, “You know this is his favorite part of the week, don’t you? It’s all he talks about. When Gray comes this…and when Gray comes by that…You’d think the guy had nothing else going on.”
“Well,” I said with a shrug, feeling warm, but pleased, “It’s a pandemic. What else does he have going on?”
Before Colin could respond, Jude cleared his throat and said, “Yeah. Well. You get to see your boyfriend practically every day when you”—he does air quotes—“deliver his lunch, so excuse me for savoring my one visit a week.”
That’s right, he basically called me his girlfriend. Sort of. Practically.
Chloe FaceTimes me at exactly 7:59, and I smile at her flushed pink face.
“Almost missed it,” she says.
“How is that possible? We’re stuck at home.”
She rolls her eyes. “Mel is having a fit because I made her switch over from USA’s Funniest Stay at Home Videos. It’s all the same garbage we’ve seen on social media all day every day. They’re basically ripping off TikTok and featuring a bunch of influencers. Not interested.”
“Right, well it’s on now. So shush.”
“Oh, there he is, Gray! Is it him?”
I had to tell someone my theory about Jude and Judah maybe possibly being the same person. Chloe was the least humiliating option.
“I don’t know! I need to hear him speak. I might be able to tell from that.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t just ask him.”
“I wanted to, but it felt weird. Like what if it’s not and then he thinks I’m disappointed he’s not a celebrity? That would be soul-crushing.”
“You think?”
“What if he was obsessed with Dove Cameron or something and thought I was her, and then found out I was just me? Wouldn’t that feel terrible?”
“I guess. But you won’t be disappointed if he’s not some celeb.”
“I know that, but he doesn’t. I really, really like Jude. So much.”
“All right. Just so we’re clear, are we hoping its him, or aren’t we?”
“We’re ambivalent.”
“Really?”
“Mostly.”
“Right.”
“Quiet, it’s starting,” I say. “I’m still sad what’s-her-face got voted off last week.”
“So sad that you can’t be bothered to remember her name.”
“Good point.”
I’ve barely touched my popcorn. If only Jude hadn’t had to run off earlier, I would already know if my crazy theory were true! I can’t believe I don’t know his last name. What kind of girl doesn’t know her maybe-boyfriend’s last name?
The kind who meets him in a pandemic, that’s who.
I’m my own antagonist.
“He’s next after the break,” Chloe says in a hissed whisper.
I wipe my hands down my black leggings and take a deep, cleansing breath.
It doesn’t really matter. I might not even be able to tell. And that’s okay. He knows I’m watching tonight. Maybe I can bring it up again, casually and—
Oh God. He’s on. It’s the same back porch, with the same evergreens, but this time its covered in blue and green twinkle lights. His back is facing the camera, but he spins, doing this kind of slow reveal, and I let out a high-pitched shriek.
He’s wearing my mask. The one I made for him from my prom dress.
Oh my word, it’s HIM.
IT’S JUDE.
He’s standing in front of a mic stand, mask in place, and it’s then that I hear the song that’s playing. He tugs off the mask, tucking it into his jacket pocket. A jacket that looks like it’s black velvet. His mic is one of those giant old-fashioned ones, and the song? It’s “Love, You Didn’t Do Right by Me” by Rosemary Clooney.
“Is it him?” Chloe screams.
All I can do is nod.
“Holy crap!”
I watch the entire performance, my face hot in my hands, and my heart in my throat. He’s so good-looking and so sweet and he’s mine. Judah MacKenzie is my Jude. And he’s singing me a song on TV.
When the song wraps, he pulls something out of his pocket, and with a secretive smile, he pulls it over his face. Another mask. This one with a message written across the front.
It says I CAN BE YOUR DANNY KAYE.
Sweet Jesus.
“I have to go there,” I say to my best friend once I’ve finished screaming internally.
“Hell yes, you do. Where is that exactly?”
I gesture wildly at the television screen in front of me. “There! There! To his house! I have to go there and see him and tell him I want him to be my Danny Kaye!”
She rolls her eyes on the screen. “Right. I know. I got that. Everyone got that, but Gray. Where is his house?”
Oh my gosh, I have no idea. Jude lives in Ann Arbor, but so do a hundred thousand other people.
I surge from the couch and shout at the phone between my shaking hands. “I need Colin DuBois’s phone number. Do you still have the theater department phone tree?”
“Yeah. Hanging right here next to me. I’ll snap you a pic.”
“Okay. I’ll call him and beg for Jude’s address. And…” I take a deep, calming breath. “And I’m going to put on real pants. And then I’m gonna tell him how I feel.”
“Quarantine!” my best friend reminds me.
“Right. I’ll just have to get creative.” My mind is already whirring with possibilities. I can think of something on the way.
“Good luck! I love you! Call me later!”
I hang up and sprint up the stairs to my room to change. I pull on a pair of skinny jeans and pull down my hair, brushing out the waves and spritzing perfume like an optimist. Chloe sends over the screenshot of Colin’s phone number and it takes me two tries to put the numbers
