CHAPTER 3
SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY

THE TEMPERATURE IN Barton Hollow was close to 86° F when she arrived.

Jude tried to forget about what she'd seen at the gas station last night every time a fly buzzed near her. She just about hid underneath the covers of her motel room bed once she checked in, choosing to turn both locks and place a chair underneath the door handle just in case. She dreamed about those crimson eyes; she saw them as she daydreamed while driving. They had almost hypnotized her, but it wasn't like they were real, right? Demons, the devil, evil spirits ... they didn't exist, no matter how many times her father tried drilling it in her head. Jude stopped at the red light right before the Barton Hollow welcome sign. The red eyes could've been anything ... a red light on top of a cellphone tower, perhaps?

She drove forward, past the town line, and felt her breath still. Initially, she wondered how it would feel to be back home again, and the last thing she expected was to feel like she couldn't breathe. She took a deep inhale, breathing in the cold air from her shitty air conditioner. Her eyes wandered as she drove into town: recognizing all the paint-chipped shingles on old houses, the cracked Virgin Mary statues sitting outside gardens full of sun-dried flowers and grass. Teenagers walked home from school in the blazing heat, tugging on their uniform ties and wiping the sweat from their foreheads. Younger kids played on the front lawn, drinking from the hose and splashing their friends with water. Only a handful of houses had enough money to afford a sprinkler, and most kids in town took advantage of those families or headed down to the town's water fountain. There was an ice cream truck parked outside the local hardware store. Jude sighed. This was the typical start of summer in Barton Hollow. Some things never changed, no matter how old you got.

The house she used to play at in middle school was now abandoned. The only playground in town was full of kids, but the equipment looked like it was about to fall apart or completely rust over. On the right, her dad's church was closed due to excessive heat, per the sign posted on the large wooden doors. The church looked like the nicest place in town; it must've gotten a fresh paint job recently, and the clock at the top of the roof had to be placed there within the past couple of years.

Jude released a humph before stopping at a red light near the center of Barton Hollow. There were only 3 stoplights in the entire town: the first being on the town border before the welcome sign, second at the town center, and third on the edge of town. Her old house – the same house her parents still lived in to this day – was just a few streets past the town center. Her father liked to live as close to church as he could afford at the time, and never went through the effort to move. Jude wondered if the house still smelled like mothballs and peppermint tea. No matter how many times her mother had cleaned it back in the day, the mothball smell remained. Jude remembered her friends calling it, "the Mothball Mansion." And the peppermint tea ... her mother always had a mug of it in her hands. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, no matter the weather. The couch cushions were practically stained with the scent of peppermint.

When the light finally turned green, Jude lightly pressed her foot on the gas. The car rolled forward –

A man dressed in all black was suddenly walking across the crosswalk. Jude stomped on the break immediately, the car jolting to a halt.

She almost hit him.

She could've hit him, if she hadn't reacted so quickly.

Jude turned her head to the left, watching him continue to cross the street with zero reaction, his back to her. She felt her face get hot with anger. What the fuck was that? She had a green light! Whoever he was, he couldn't have been a townie. The residents of Barton Hollow had never been so disrespectful, not even the teenagers.

In a fit of rage, Jude quickly pulled into the parking lot of a gas station on the left, blocking her stranger's path on the sidewalk. She cut the engine and left her air-conditioned car to walk out into the blazing heat. Her stranger walked around her car, still keeping his face hidden from view. "Hey!" She shouted, trudging behind him and yanking his forearm. "Who do you think you –"

His hair was dark brown, almost black, pushed back away from his face with the ends curling at the nape of his neck. There were a few gray strands, either from stress or genetics, because he didn't look that much older than her. Some tufts stuck to his face and blew aimlessly in the dry wind. His golden-tan skin was getting sunburnt ever-so-slightly in the deadly Louisiana heat, which made her wonder why he was wearing all black, besides his dark wash jeans that hugged his butt quite nicely. Jude noticed a small hoop earring on one of his ears, something he'd probably gotten as a stupid teenager, and then a small tattoo of a spider on his neck, peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

He was handsome. She'd give him that. But he also looked like the type of guy who pretended to know where the clitoris was; the type of guy who was really hot but the sex was always bad.

Strange though ... something about him was so familiar to her, even though she'd never seen him before. Where did she know him from?

(Miguel had read over Jude's file; he knew her background, how she was the daughter of a preacher. She would be sweet and kind. He knew how this meeting would go far too well. It was how every first meeting went for his variant and soulmate. She'd grab his arm. He'd turn. Their eyes would meet. And she'd say, Are ... are you okay?)

"Are you crazy?!" She shouted, catching the stranger off guard. "I had a green light. I could've killed you!"

The man flipped up his sunglasses to get a better look at her. Jude couldn't help but be taken with his brown eyes. In the light, she could've sworn they were red.

"Why ... What the hell is wrong with you?!" She said, not understanding his silence. "Have you ever heard of a thing called, southern hospitality? Because walking in front of cars and almost making them hit you isn't it! You have to be insane. I can't even deal with this. Of course, this happens the second I get back home. I –"

(He was taking her in. She looked so much like his Willow, but younger and more fair-haired, with big brown eyes and a button nose. Willow had smelled like roses and cinnamon; Jude was more citrusy with the subtle hint of tobacco. This was his second time meeting the "supposed soulmate" of another variant, and honestly, he didn't see how this dimension's Miguel was going to fall in love with this Jude. She was loud and unabashedly rude while yelling at him. Maybe the Miguel in Earth-616 was into that. But the tone of her voice was absolutely killing his eardrums.)

The stranger interrupted her before she could fly more off the handle. "Who are you again?"

Jude's mouth opened, and then closed, a little amazed at his cool and calm demeanor. "Uh ..." He had thrown her for a loop. "The driver of that car –" She pointed back to where her little El Camino was parked at the entrance of a gas station. "– That you walked right in front of."

He laughed, fully turning in her direction. "Está bien, 'The Driver of That Car That You Walked Right in Front of.' Interesting name." He held out his hand for her to shake. "Miguel O'Hara."

"That's not my God-given name. Obviously." She didn't mean to phrase it that way, but perhaps being back home made old language roll off the tongue. Swallowing hard, she tried not to notice how tight-fitting his black t-shirt was, how tall he was compared to her (and she was 5'8"), and instead found her eyes narrowing at the hand he laid out. Even his hand was huge. His size almost intimidated her. Almost. After a moment of hesitation, she reached out to connect their hands. "Jude Wright."

Their hands shook. Jude felt a shiver crawl up her spine.

(Miguel could've sworn he heard a click! in his ear, as if he could hear the canon event locking in place. That was all it took to keep this universe intact: an almost-accident and a short handshake.)

"I'm new around here," he said, his large hand still encasing hers.

"Yeah, I can tell," she replied bluntly and finally pulled her hand away from his. Sweat had gathered in her palms and she wiped it on her pants. She noticed him look back at her car, eyeing the New York license plate. "Oh, I ..." She struggled with how to frame it. "I live in New York now. This is where I grew up. I'm in town for a funeral."

His face softened, just a little. She guessed his expression was usually an automatic frown. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Jude didn't know how to reply. He was a stranger; she didn't know anything about him besides his name – and the fact that he liked to walk in front of moving cars. So she opted to nod awkwardly and stick her hands into the back pockets of her knee-length denim shorts, hoping she could come up with something less embarrassing to say. Whatever words she did have shriveled into nothing on her tongue.

"Well, I ..." She gestured back to her car with both thumbs. "I'm just gonna go. Please, for the sake of all the townies, don't walk through a crosswalk when the sign isn't on. There are only three stoplights in town. I'd hate to see you in the town obituary next to my godfather."

He chuckled. "I'll try."

As she stepped backward, opening her car door, he slipped his sunglasses back on his nose. Ray-Bans. Vintage. "Guess I'll see you around, ángel," he added.

Jude turned at the nickname, meeting his gaze for just a moment before he started walking away. Her lip curled in disgust, even if she might've enjoyed the sultry tone of his voice. Was he trying to demean her? Fucking prick. Just because her legs wobbled a little at the nickname didn't mean she liked it. No, she was repulsed. Definitely repulsed. Only blushing from the sweltering heat.

She revved the engine, allowing the blast of AC to cool down the sweat beading on her forehead. The pink tinge to her cheeks quickly went away, proving her point. Backing out of the gas station, she pulled out onto the road and slowly passed by him as he walked on the sidewalk. She couldn't help but steal a glance at him, and then again, and again. He was so tall and muscular that she was surprised he wasn't riding around in some expensive car with three women in his backseat, like a scene in one of those James Bond movies. Her eyes flickered again to her rearview mirror, and she could've sworn that he noticed and grinned at her.

Jude huffed angrily. She was supposed to be mad at him. He was a prick. Douchebag. Fucking dumbass. She was used to shitty pedestrians since moving to New York City, but she didn't think she'd have to start dealing with them here as well. Fuck that asshole. And fuck his annoyingly handsome face too –

She took a left on the next side street. When she turned her head to get one last look at him, he was gone.

Hopefully, that was the last time she'd ever have to see him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this chapter is a little short, sorry!! BUUUUUT we finally got their first meeting 🤭 these two are gonna be sooooo much fun

in case anyone wants more of a visual of how I think miguel looks in this fic, this fanart by @teletwobees is an absolutely perfectttt representation!! please check them out on tumblr and instagram to see more of their art!