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The first time Jude smokes weed, he doesn’t really feel much. Annie congratulates him on becoming a man, and he looks down at his stupid, skinny legs.Some party this turned out to be.Jude doesn’t like parties, or people, or anything. Most things. He likes music. He keeps requesting the DJ play Limp Bizkit and keeps getting denied. Maybe when he’s drunk enough he’ll try Cyndi Lauper.Jude thinks that she sees him as a kid, sometimes. Like he doesn’t want to do anything rebellious, or like he doesn’t even know about it. Yeah — he doesn’t drink coffee, but it’s fucking Utah and he has a water bottle that he fills up with cola on his way to work that does him just fine, thanks. He drinks vodka straight, he’s man enough for the two of them.Anyway. Annie's dancing and smiling and asking him if he feels anything yet and he still doesn’t. She suggests ketamine. He stares at her like he’s seen a ghost.“You have ketamine..?”“Duh,” she smiles, holding up a baggie. “I told you we’d have fun tonight. You need to get out of your basement sometimes, dude.” She giggles after her final sentence, and Jude can’t even get mad, he just feels pathetic.“I’m here, aren’t I?” he scans for exits.She rolls her eyes. “You never want to have fun anymore!”When did I ever want to have fun in the first place? He thinks, bitterly.The second time he smokes weed is about three hours later. It feels like something, now, but not anything good. Maybe his mom was right.Annie giggles as he stands on unsteady, stupid fucking skinny God damn legs, and runs to the bathroom.He throws up without hesitation, and also without opening the toilet lid.He’s scrubbing the floor when she comes to check on him.“You know, it was probably the vodka. I’ve never seen anyone throw up from weed before.” She’s still smiling, for some reason. Whatever, whatever.“Yeah, well, I know what vodka is like. I’m not a fucking idiot.” His mouth feels too loose all of a sudden, like he can’t force his lips to make the correct shapes.Her brow furrows minutely at his outburst. “Jeez, man. No need to throw a sissy fit,”“You know it’s hissy fit, you’re being a cunt on purpose.”She barks out a laugh. “Awwww, Jude’s trying to be sexist! Jude’s trying to use big mean words! Jude hates women!”She says this as if she’s telling someone else this, but although the music’s still pounding from the small opening the doorway allows into the room, they’re the only ones standing there.“Okay. Sorry. Can you help me clean up?” he pleads, reluctantly.“Heh… no. It’s your throw-up, dude.”Jude’s face glitches before defaulting into a thousand, maybe million, maybe billion-yard stare. “Okay.” he continues to scrub.Suddenly, he’s being handed a whisky shot.“To get rid of the taste.” she smiles.He downs it, and the burning doesn’t feel that different to the stomach acid he’d tasted before, just going down instead of coming up. He coughs. “Thanks.”She watches him silently for a few moments before saying, “I’m gonna go dance. Behave yourself.”Jude blushes and nods. She laughs. He looks down at his suddenly very interested dick (which is honestly impressive when you think about the alcohol) and kinda wants to kill himself.Party In The USA is playing, and Jude thinks about how he is currently partying in the USA. This isn’t particularly helpful. The caulk is stained kinda orange, and he doesn’t really know why that is considering his throw-up was mostly clear. He considers that he could be cleaning up several people’s congealed group throw-up and tries not to gag.He thinks about what she’s doing. Maybe she’s dancing with a guy, maybe she’s fucking a guy — getting fucked by a guy. Why did he think of it the other way around first? Jude considers if it would be easier to shoot himself or overdose on painkillers or hang himself or slit his wrists or -“It looks… clean?” Another voice. A guy. Awesome, okay, Jude can talk to guys.“Hah… yeah. Just some spring cleaning y’know?” He stares down at where he’s currently scrubbing the already sparkling tiles, far beyond what’s necessary.The guy squints at Jude like he’s an insect. “Uh,” he looks around “Yeah. This girl was asking about a redhead, and you’re the only redhead I could find, so. She’s in the garden.”“Oh. Okay.”He throws the cleaning supplies to one side as he gets ready to rejoin her. He’s going to be so normal, and everyone’s gonna be so happy to see him.He approaches Annie and her friends scurry off like a group of tiny, scantily clad spiders.“You wanna try something?”She’s holding another joint, somehow. This whole thing is beginning to feel like he’s the guy they tell horror stories about in the D.A.R.E program. He shrugs. “Sure.”She brings the joint to her lips, inhaling whilst looking in his eyes. He sighs.All of a sudden, she grabs his face and connects their lips, and despite a flinch of shock, he kisses her. He realises she’s trying to blow smoke into his mouth, and he lets her.Jude exhales and looks at her wide-eyed before dropping to his knees on the well-kept lawn.“You okay?”“Mhm.”He lies down. The ground feels cold, and it’s nice.She crouches next to him and starts smoothing a hand over his hair, where it sticks to his sweaty forehead.“You had fun?”He closes his eyes, happy despite everything, despite how fucking weird this is, how weird everything always has to be for some reason.“Yeah.”Girls Just Wanna Have Fun plays in a place that seems far, far away, and Jude smiles.

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Jude knows he's probably going to get fired if he keeps taking an extra five minutes to text Annie on his smoke break, but whatever.She sent a picture this time. Some sort of sorority thing; Jude's never been into that sort of thing.He texts back an unbelievably smooth "hawt" before navigating back to ParaSite, permanently open in his web browser on his phone. It's become a habit he can't break even when he can't actually use it. People are mad at him on the forums. He's banned from posting for 12 hours. But he's going to sit there and read everything they have to say before he... no new comments. Okay, fine, he can be alone with his thoughts.Jude taps off his cigarette ash, sighs quietly, and looks up toward the sky like some sort of very old and very depressed widow.Maybe it's a good thing he graduated into the working world instead of university. Not like Utah has a bunch of options anyway. Annie's at the University of Utah in Salt Lake, and Jude's like 99% sure that even if he realised he wanted to betray his mom in the worst way he could and re-enter the religion she spent forever trying to untangle herself from, he probably wouldn't even be accepted to Brigham fucking Young.He stubs his cigarette out on his shoe before throwing it the trashcan. It hits the side of the can with a plink before falling straight back onto the sidewalk. Grumbling, he picks it up, tossing it out a second time.Sometimes, Jude worries he's a bad person. He worries about ancient Greece, and the tale of Narcissus, and his dad telling him there's a lot of narcissism in self-hate. He doesn't even hate himself. No, really! He thinks he's great, the fucking best, no matter what the reviews of Cedar City Subway say. And anyway, if Jude did hate himself (which he doesn't, to be clear), there are far more physically destructive versions of self harm he could be engaging in as opposed to being in a long distance relationship.Tying his stupid little apron around his waist, Jude ponders if he can really even call it that. Yeah, they kissed, (and fucked, which he's secretly grossly proud about but would boast about to nobody) but he isn't really sure what to call something like that if they never made it "official", which Jude considers a recent phenomenon invented for people who spend all their time updating their Facebook statuses anyway.He's harpooned out of his idiot doom spiral by his boss, Shelby, who is 19 and has the name of a turtle, not a woman."Did you refill the paper towels?"Jude nods, and wipes his nose on the back of his hand. Shelby turns away with a grimace, walking over to the paper towel dispenser and handing him one. Jude takes it and blows his nose loudly."You're not doing that in front of the customers, right?"Jude rolls his eyes, fixing Shelby with a look that communicates that he thinks she's being a sweat, or a loser, or an idiot, or whatever other insults are rattling around inside his head."No. But I got allergies, so,""Okay, still, man."Jude blows his nose a second time, and tosses the paper towel into the food waste bin.He’s about to switch off his phone and get back to work, but gets another notification. Annie posted on Instagram (yes, he has post notifications on, don’t worry about it). A photo of her linking arms with girls that look similar to each other, but not to her. Annie’s the only natural blonde in the photo, Jude’s sure he can ascertain that much. There’s a guy in the photo, too. Far in the background, leering at Annie like he doesn't care how creepy it is. He’s smiling. His teeth are crooked. He’s really not that handsome, Jude’s sure he has him beat.Not that it matters.Jude clicks on the tagged profile; the guy’s name is Wes, short for Wesley, probably, which is a stupid name. He has more followers than Jude does, but doesn't everyone? He wishes he'd saved his cigarette break for now, because he immediately feels the need to smoke again, lung cancer be damned.Wes' profile picture is of himself, smirking into the camera. Maybe in this light, he is good looking. Not Jude's type by any means, don't get him wrong, but infuriatingly un-ugly in a way that makes Jude's skin itch at the concept of Annie knowing him, seeing him, whatever.He hits follow immediately.

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Jude: can u text me back when ur free 2 talk pls
Jude: seriously ur stressing me out. can u text me back because idk what you're talking about
Jude: annie cmonAnnie looks at her phone, and then down at her feet. She's not going to reply to him. She won't, she won't, she won't.Wes is pissed off that she won't delete Jude's contact information from her phone, but Annie isn't stupid; she knows that'll only make it worse. Sure, maybe Wes'll decide that she's obviously not serious about the relationship if she's still texting an "ex-fling" but God, whatever.Jude really is a friend to her — a best friend, kinda, somebody she cares about. Maybe at one point she was attracted to him, but that doesn't mean she's running back to Cedar City to sleep with him anytime soon. Wes is paranoid and strange and even worse than Jude was when this all started and Annie hates men, she fucking hates men.It was never meant to be a huge fight. She didn't know how seriously Jude was even taking this stuff until she broke the news that Wes and her were official and he lost his shit. Every conversation since had ended abruptly, like she was just a personal audience for his awesomeness and when he'd seen her react to whatever dumb shit he posted online, the interaction was over. She'd put up with a lot, to be honest. Wes had told her that, and Jude had said it was just Wes telling her that, but it was true anyway. He keeps sending her shit she doesn't find funny, which isn't like, a crime or anything but ParaSite is full of weirdos and Annie doesn't know how much more she can take.Jude isn't some creep. Annie will argue that until the cows come home. But he spends his time arguing with creeps, or children which is even worse. She doesn't know why he does it, or why he finds it funny to tell her about it, but she's trying to live a normal life, and every day it just gets so much weirder.Whatever. She's going out tonight.Annie stares at herself in the mirror and imagines she's a man. Would she look at her and find her attractive? Probably not, honestly. Her hair is too frizzy, and she broke her straighteners, and brushing it out just makes it bigger, if anything. She's gained weight. She looks tired. She cakes concealer under her eyes and it doesn't really do much, but that's her fault for visiting Ulta instead of Sephora.She hates the male version of her assessing her like that. She studies physics, you fucking misogynist, she stays up late writing research papers, she doesn't care about beauty sleep.It's probably horrible of her to even think about other guys anyway. Wes thinks she's hot, he wouldn't want to be exclusive otherwise.She turns her phone off, and walks into the kitchen.-Annie: Jude, Wes wants me 2 delete ur number :/
Annie: I'm not going to
Annie: but maybe I shouldn't be messaging so much
Annie: also, I made a parasite account cos I wanted to see the linked stuff u sent me and the stuff ur posting is kinda weird so i think i just need a bit
Annie: sorry i'm really not trying to be a bitchJude feels like his soul is on fire, like the shit he was taught in temple as a kid was finally making sense to him, like he was going to super-mega-hell for the crime of upsetting the only person he's ever cared about.He doesn't post anything bad, not really. He argues with idiots online, and sometimes they happen to be kids, but it's not like he's seeking them out or whatever. What does Annie know about the internet anyway. She's never been interested in it, even when she was pretending she still fucking liked him.Jude sends a string of messages, raging from dismissive to desperate, and watches as they return a cheerful delivered! ping back to him. He then feels extremely embarrassed about doing so, and wishes there was a way to un-send a message.He considers blocking her number, but decides against it. It'd probably feel better to decline her calls than to never receive them, he thinks.That's a shitty thought. He isn't that kind of person. Jude cares about her. Well, he's trying to. But it's hard when she's being such a God damn bitch about the stuff he cares about when he'll listen to her complain about whatever stupid shit she has on her mind.Whatever, whatever. He'll ignore her calls for a week, teach her not to fuck with him. Well, not like, in an aggressive way or anything. He's not a bad person.He's not a bad person.

Jude stretches out in his bed, woken by the sound of his dehumidifier's timer beeping.He uses the arm of his glasses to brush a strand of hair out of his face before immediately switching his phone on. He wasn't expecting anything, but four missed calls from Annie fill him with a sick sense of satisfaction. Part of him feels a little guilty for keeping up the grudge this long, but he's also pretty proud he hasn't caved yet.Distance has provided him with space to think. Space to consider what he really wants. He has big plans, y'know. He's gonna move to California when he gets the money together — and he will. He will get the money together.He stands up, his eyesight going fuzzy as his body tries to push some blood up to his brain. He walks over to his chest of draws, considering as he clambers over discarded Dr. Pepper cans and Subway sandwich boxes if he should buy something more adult because he's probably going to need to start going to job interviews again soon. Piles of peeling graphic t-shirts stare back at him, and he picks out the one that says "Boyz Rule Girlz Drool" least to him, because it's getting a bit embarrassing to wear shirts that brand you as a "gamer".Jude's parents always wanted a daughter, but they never got one. All their effort went into creating him; a male — a stupid failure of a human being. He wishes he wasn't like this. He wishes he could be what they wanted. He wishes he didn't lose his job and that he was making enough money to move out, live alone, accomplish things he should've already accomplished by age 25.He takes the thought and throws it out. Who cares what they want, it's his life. He's going to do that for him, not for them.Jude's fumbling with the fly on his jeans when he hears a gasp so loud that it seems to echo around the basement, and he runs upstairs.His mom's on the phone, her face is pale. Jude doesn't know what to say. Should he… say anything? If his grandpa died it's not like he knew him, so —His mom puts the phone down, clattering against the table like she can afford to replace a shattered screen. Jude's heart races, like he already knows.She makes a show of pulling herself together — breathing in, and out and then, quietly, "That was Annie's mom, on the phone,"She's staring at him like she's seen a ghost. He feels sick. God, he knows, he knows, he already knows."I'm so sorry, Jude."He stops breathing.Everything feels far away all of a sudden. She tells him what he already fucking knows because she's his best friend, he knew Wes was like that — it has to be Wes, or the drugs, or something like that, fuck, it wouldn't be on purpose — she holds him like a cobra suffocating its prey, he's going to die, he's sure of it. She muffles her sobs into his shoulder, and it makes him feel fucking homicidal. Why do you care?He bites his tongue. He can't say that. Annie isn't his. People care about her. Cared about her. God. He has to get out of here.He retreats down the steps to the basement like a soldier running from gunfire.He tries to cry, but his eyes remain dry.He knows he feels something. Anger, hatred, nausea, nausea, nausea…Vomiting doesn't help. The truth is still right there, pressing down on his stomach. He wants to listen to her voicemails.He pulls his phone out with shaky hands, surprised it's been two hours. The time went by like it never existed. He navigates to his voicemail, and stops dead in his tracks.He can't do it. If he does it, he'll be sick again.He won't delete them. He'll listen later, when he remembers.As if he hadn't had the conversation with himself, he hits play, and waits approximately 10 seconds for the spiel to play out. Yes, he wants to hear his messages.She gets halfway through a word before Jude switches his phone off.He can't do it. He's a pussy, he can't do it. He feels the reality seep into his brain like honey. She called him and he was asleep. Even if he was awake, he probably would've declined it. She wanted to talk to him, and his phone contains what she wanted to talk to him about. One ended meaningless anti-conversation, trapped on one device forever.Finally, he feels it. A sadness like nothing he's felt before. Grief, probably. Hah… he loves that song. He loves that song so God damn much.He laughs to himself as he realises how fucked he is. He won't ever be the same again. Irreparable damage from being in the vicinity of a lovely girl, a lovely, kind, hot girl. The sensations of every recorded emotion are too fleeting to focus on. Jude feels his brain split with the weight of it. God, he's fucked. What was he laughing about? Oh, yeah. That's funny. That's funny.Blood dries under his fingernails as he curls into himself. His knees are bloody — was he scratching them? He doesn't remember that.His blanket feels heavy enough to suffocate him. He focuses on his breathing. In, out, in, out.And so, in a blip the universe is too huge to notice, something is lost that's never found.

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You are now reading JUDE IN THE UNDERTOW.To play music: Click the green music player in the bottom left.To read chapters: Click on the files labelled with years.When you're done reading: Click on the "More?" link in the bar at the top. Don't worry if the music hasn't finished yet, it'll open another tab.If you're reading on mobile: JITU is best read on desktop. Some elements may appear misaligned on some phone screens. The content will still be readable!

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