is a buzzing and a thump, thump of my heart. The world shrinks to the smallest point of light in a dark tunnel. And that was all that I remember.
I'm at a party. I don't know where I am or who the party is for. People are around me, talking, laughing, drinking. I make my way through the crowd. I'm looking for someone, I don't know who. The music is loud and I can't hear myself think. The bass throbs, a thump, thump, like a heart beat. Then I see her. She's on the balcony, looking out over the city. She's not alone. I walk out and say her name. It's a familiar name, but one can't quite put a finger on. There's a man with her. They're huddled together talking. Her hand is on his arm, affectionate, personal, intimate. Hey, I say, what are you two doing out here? Just getting some air, she says. Great party huh? says the man. I think he's a friend. Or maybe he's not. Maybe this is not innocent. Maybe I should see this for what it is. Maybe I should stop it, right here, right now.
I'm awake. The car shudders, goes over a bump. I'm in the front seat. Quinn is driving. It's late. The road ahead is full of the red, angry eyes. I have a splitting headache. I don't know how I got here. I struggle to remember the last thing that I, well, remember.
"Crap," I say. "What happened?"
"I'm not telling you again," she says.
"What time is it?" I look at my watch. It's eight thirty. "Where are we?"
"About half an hour from home."
"I have a headache."
"I'm not surprised."
I put a hand to the back of my head, where the pain was centred. I can feel a wound there, and stitches.
"Okay," I say. "Just tell me. What happened?"
She sighs. "You were knocked out cold by your brother on a racquetball court. You don't remember that?"
"I think I remember playing him, but it gets a little hazy after that."
"Well, he split your head open. You were in hospital for the last five hours."
"Okay. That makes sense. So you came and got me?"
She muttered something that I couldn't hear. It's just occurring to me that she's being cool towards me, and I don't know why.
"Everything okay?" I ask her.
"Everything's just fine," she says blandly.
"Anything I should know?"
"No." She says.
I open my mouth to say something.
"Drop it, Judd," she tells me. And I do. We travel the next few miles in silence. We go up to our apartment and she leaves me at the door, goes down to her room and closes her door. It doesn't open again.
In the next episode of Twenty Four Weeks?
Chloe seduces Judd at a party? Judd forces Quinn to open up to him? Judd learns what happened to his missing five hours?
I try to talk to her gently, but she won't let me in, so I go to work with that dark cloud over me. I guess whatever it is will bubble to the surface eventually. She'll tell me when she's ready. Until then I have to trust her. Until then I'll go over everything that was said and done on the weekend to find the cause - to find something, anything, that I've done to hurt her. The problem that I have is that there is a large chunk, five or six hours, that I can't remember, that I can't account for.
?
"You okay, man?" Wade asks me.
I nod. "Just a headache. Racquetball accident." I point to the back of my head. "Six stitches."
Wade takes a look. "Nasty," he says in the same tone he used to describe what he'd done to a guest on the program in the copy toom. He's so used to using the word he'll put in any context.
"Anyway," he says, "Chloe and I are hosting a party, kind of a 'congrats to us'."
"It's a bit early for that, don't you think?"
"Maybe, but Chloe wants a party. So..."
"Alright, when is it?"
"Thursday."
?
"Do we stand a chance?" someone says behind me.
I turn and find Chloe there. She's beautiful and young and about to get her heart smashed into a million pieces. I can see it happening before my eyes. I know what it looks like. But knowing its coming doesn't make it any easier, it just softens the blow when it does but the pain is the same.
Perhaps she's wiser than me, I don't know. She can see it coming where I was clueless.
"Chloe," I yell. "Great party."
"Look at them. They just can't take their eyes off each other."
And I do.
"It's just they've got history, you know?"
"Maybe."
And then she kisses me. Full on the lips.
?
"What are we doing?" she asks quietly.
"That's a good question. What are we doing?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you? I think you do know. There's something going on here - something that's driving us apart, and I want to know what it is."
"I told you..." she begins sharply.
"I know. It's all you and you're dealing with it yourself. Well, Quinn, you're failing at it. It's just getting worse and, frankly it's starting to annoy me. I can't talk to you. You won't look at me. You're looking at him again."
?
"I don't know, Judd. You're telling me that you don't think that I can change and that tells me that you don't trust me. And you sound like the old Judd, the one that I couldn't trust, the one that pushed me away. That tells me that I can't trust you. I'm trying here, and I want to commit myself to you, but if we don't trust each other..."
"I do trust you."
"Last night you said that you didn't."
"When did I say that?" I ask her, my voice lifting in volume and pitch.
"Judd," Grant says quietly. I take a breath.
"Sorry," I say, and ask the question gently.
"You accused me of looking at him again, like I want him."
Download regularly the Episode Guide for updates on this series. Additionally there is an Adult version (contains adult themes, coarse language, sexual references, high-level sex scenes and some violence) and downloadable audio books of these episodes (adult version).
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