J
This diner isn't remarkable, but the food is. I think it's all the salt they put on everything. They even put it on the pizza.
Even though it's my favorite place to eat, I'm surprised I was able to eat anything at all.
The fear and paranoia are embarrassing. I'm fucking embarrassed I got so worked up this morning. It's just… finding that list and the nightmares really got to me. I felt like I was drowning in a childish fear that still has its claws rooted deep in my thoughts.
The fear faded to uneasiness when Lisa talked me down. Just being around her makes me feel safe and protected. If I could be with her always, I would. Because she settles something deep down inside of me. She makes me crave more. More from life, but also more from her.
A different kind of nervousness took over the moment I got into her car. The soft leather was something I didn't expect. The hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clearing of Lisa's throat were the only noises the entire ride.
This morning, I had to tell someone and she's my only someone, even if that's a pathetic truth. I didn't think twice. She didn't answer her phone, so I went to where I knew she'd be. It made every bit of sense to me at the time.
Until I slipped into her car and was engulfed in her scent. Until I peeked at her as she drove her car with an air of dominance and authority.
In a room with other people, or even in a room I'm used to being in, Lisa is still the girl who kissed me. But alone, in her car, something changed. And suddenly I lost my voice along with every thought I ever had, except for the dirty ones that crept up late at night about her doing more than just kissing me.
Today has been nothing but a series of fucked up thoughts running wild in my head.
"What's on your mind, Jennie Kim?" Her deep, rough voice breaks into my thoughts and I take my time reaching for another fry, carefully taking a bite before answering her.
"Just wondering about how much can change in a single day."
I can feel the heat rise up my chest and to my cheeks, all the way to my hairline as she leans forward, her broad shoulders stretching out the t-shirt as she tells me, "I would swear you were thinking about something else."
Her steely blue eyes seize all my attention and hold me accountable. I can barely breathe, but she doesn't need the confirmation. She's plenty full of herself already, so I simply eat the rest of the fry and shrug. I ignore the butterflies and the desire to push her for more of that teasing side of her. This is the part of her personality I've craved, but I don't want to appear desperate or say something stupid. I don't want to ruin it. I can barely believe I'm here with her. I don't even want to think about it for too long; I'm afraid if I do, it'll all go away.
Her cocky half smirk is what makes me look anywhere but at her as I try to remember how I ended up here with her.
Thoughts that I wish I hadn't tried to return to.
Remembering when my mother died, how I felt the same way. Afraid and paranoid. I felt like no one understood why I was so completely distraught. The mix of emotions never felt right, and I never had any control over them. They hit me relentlessly, like the constant blow of boughs as I was forced to run through trees in a forest. Swiping at me, scratching me, taking me by surprise. I was only a girl, but old enough to remember, old enough to know I could have done something.
"I thought I was done with all this," I tell her absently.
"How's that?" Lisa asks me with her brow furrowed and a look in her eyes that's compassionate and curious. This is how I imagined she'd look when I read those texts all that time ago. It was only an image conjured in my head because I'd never seen anything of her other than the hard, dangerous girl she wanted everyone to see.
"Do you really want to know?" I question her, the uneasiness returning. She nods her head once and I figure, why not? I have no one to talk to and after this, I'm not sure she'll even talk to me again. So why not let it all out?
"I thought I was over feeling like this…" Before I can finish, the air conditioner blows across my skin from above me just then, and a flow of goosebumps trails down my arm and shoulders making me wish I hadn't picked this seat.
"You want to switch spots?" Lisa asks and again, I'm surprised she would ask me that.
I gently shake my head and try to recall what I was thinking only seconds ago. Before Lisa destroyed my thoughts again with a mere five words. She's good at that.
Clearing my throat, I stare down at the half-eaten pile of fries and remember the gut-wrenching feeling and sickness of what's to come. The living in fear and agony part. Oh yes, that's what she took my mind from.
"I thought I'd gotten over this feeling of being in constant state of fear and guilt." I don't look at her as I speak this time. If I do, I'm not certain that my mind will stay on course. "Even after you…" I don't mention what she did, and my gaze almost darts up to meet her eyes, but instead, they fall on her lips. "Even after school let out that year," I say, choosing to settle on the time rather than the action we both know I'm referring to. "Even then, at night there was this feeling, but it drifted away. And then when my uncle died, I was just angry." My voice raises at the thought, my breathing coming in faster.
Sitting back into my seat, I look at her and feel as if I should feel ashamed, but I'm not.
"Angry?" she questions.
"Yeah. I was angry. It wasn't fair that I was stuck here." Emotions threaten to come up at my admission. I loved my uncle and he'd passed only two years ago, right before I graduated high school. I was old enough to take the shit debt he left behind. "I know it's not his fault; he wanted better for me…"
I don't finish that line of thinking. "The point is, I thought I was done with all of this. For the first time in so long, I was fine."
"You were relying on yourself. So, of course, you were fine." Lisa sounds confident in her response, but she doesn't get it. Parts of me are so thoroughly broken that even the idea I have to rely on myself is horrifying. Rebecca used to say it was understandable after the trauma I'd been through. What she called trauma, I just called my childhood. No wonder I turned to books and writing to help me cope. Getting lost in my stories was a lot more enjoyable than facing reality.
"Everyone needs someone," I answer her, holding her gaze and praying she can feel what I mean. That she can know how deeply settled I am in that decision.
"You didn't have a someone, and you were fine."
I almost answer her with, I didn't say everyone deserves someone. Almost. But I decide to swallow it down. I sure as hell don't want her pity.
The ping of my phone distracts me from the conversation. Lisa's here with me, so it must be Yeji. Pulling it out, I see I'm right.
Where the hell are you? Stop being a bitch and answer me!
Yeji certainly has a way with words.
I'm not coming in. I send her the response and then think better of it and add, I'm sorry. I'm just not feeling all that well today.
Before she can reply, I silence my phone and slip it back into my purse. She wouldn't understand. She'd think I'm crazy. Shit, I think I'm crazy. My heart beats a little faster at remembering the pure fear that ran through me when I saw Tamra died. My name was on the bottom of that list. If someone else made a list like mine, would my name be on theirs too?
The chill from the air conditioner comes back and I let my head fall back with my eyes closed, suppressing the urge to feel anything at all. I'd rather be numb to it all. Goosebumps prick along my skin once again, slowly this time. It's just the chill, I tell myself. It's definitely from the air conditioner.
"Who's that?"
Lisa's question distracts me from my thoughts and I open my eyes slowly to tell her, "Nobody."
"So, nobody texted you?" Lisa asks with what feels like a touch of jealousy. I'm ashamed by the way my body reacts. I feel a heat that swells from the pit of my stomach, rising up but also moving lower. Forcing a small smile to my lips, I answer her, "Just a friend."
When her expression doesn't change, I roll my eyes at her and say, "I finally got one of those." My answer is pitiful, but I own it. I don't care that I'm a loner who prefers books and writing and hiding away in my stories. Books are cheap, and the people in them are better than the ones I have left here.
She looks like she's going to say something else, but she doesn't. She finishes her drink and then reaches for her wallet.
"I can buy lunch," I offer. "After all, I kind of ruined your day." She cocks a brow and doesn't answer me. Instead she puts some cash down on the table, more than enough to pay for both of us.
"I said I can get this one," I tell her and reach for the cash to shove it back to her, but she snatches my wrist. Electricity shoots through me, the desire returning with a blazing force.
She releases me slowly and I bring my wrist back to me, staring at it as if it's been singed. I'm reeling in the shivers that flow through my body.
"I pay," is all she says, with a forcefulness that spikes desire through me. I can't break her gaze, I can't speak.
"I want to," she adds in a gentler tone.
"How do you do this to me?" I ask her, but then I think of a different question. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I want to." She uses the same intensity as before, but somehow her words come out softer, almost comforting. The tension is thick between us and I wonder if she feels the same pull I do. "Why did you come to see me?" she asks me, and the question breaks the spell, my eyes falling to the table and the realization that the lunch is over. That this moment is only temporary, just like her presence in my life.
"Because I wanted to," I offer her a similar response, shrugging and then pulling up the baggy sleeves to my t-shirt. How is it that hours have passed, and I've only just now realized I'm in my pajamas? I didn't even bother to put on mascara. I always put on mascara, I look so much younger without it.
"Are you going to tell me why you're doing this?" I ask her again, feeling irritated by everything, especially my reaction to the series of events that happened today.
"I just wanted to have a nice meal with you." Hearing those words from her makes me smile and let out a short laugh. My mirth doesn't wane when she looks at me with confusion, instead, it only makes me grin harder. Maybe I truly am crazy.
"What'd I say?" she asks, and I just shake my head, taking a peek at her while lowering my lips to have a sip of Coke from the straw.
I let the bubbling fizz relax me and then straighten myself to tell her, "Just the thought of you having a nice lunch and then heading off to your nine-to-five job."
The charming grin grows on her face, revealing her perfect white teeth. "Don't you know I'm a hardworking, blue-collar type of woman?"
I hold her gaze and keep my smile in place as I tell her, "I know who you are, Lisa Manoban."
My taunting doesn't get me the reaction I'm after. Instead, she slips her mask back into place, hiding from me.
My next breath is accompanied by a long stretch and then I take another drink. A coldness sets in between us. I can feel it coming. It used to come so often when we were forced to be together. The moment she knew she'd let me in, she'd shut it down.
I should have known better than to think it would last. Maybe I didn't think it would, but I sure as fuck want it to.
"Something is truly wrong with me," I speak the thought without conscious consent.
"You're a product of your environment," Lisa answers me. She sinks back against the booth and stares at me long and hard. The fake, thin leather protests as she watches the front door.
"I should get home," I tell her, so we can end whatever this moment has been. "I'm sorry I came and…. decided to be crazy and vent to you."
"I'm not." she answers me the same way she did with paying for lunch. No nonsense, no bullshit. And the same response flows through my body. For years, in school and up till the day my uncle died, I wanted her to be like this with me. To just talk to me.
"Be careful what you say at the shop though," she tells me and then adds, "people listen." The tone in which she says it brings an uneasy feeling over me and with a tightness in my throat, I start to tell her I'm sorry, but she cuts me off.
"Just so you know for next time." The softness to her, it does something to me I can't explain. Next time. As if I could have this moment again with her.
"You're different," I marvel at the revelation out loud.
"I'm not the one who's different."
"What do you mean?" I search her eyes for answers, wanting to know how she meant me to take that statement. Needing to know.
"Does it matter?"
"I don't know what matters anymore."
"What do you know, Jennie Kim?"
The way she asks it, or maybe it's just my own thoughts, but it feels like the way she asks it is so much dirtier than what she actually asked.
"I know I should go to work or go home." Neither of those options sounds appealing, but both are true.
"It'll already be two by the time you get to work," she says and shakes her head, "don't bother."
"Home it is then," I say, easily conceding, and reaching for my purse as I scoot out of the booth to stand. "Thank you for lunch," I tell her and then add, "I can walk since it's—"
"Let me take you home." She doesn't look me in the eyes when she gives the command, she doesn't even look at me. It's clearly non-negotiable, so I don't bother objecting.
The drive back to my place is even worse than the drive to the diner. Thankfully, it only takes about four minutes. And two of those were spent at a red light.
"I really could have walked," I tell her as I slip out of her car. She opened her door first, intent on getting out rather than just dropping me off, so I walk a little quicker, eager to get to my front door first and cut her off there. I just want to be alone for a while. I want to hide away if I can. I need to process everything, but Lisa has a way of bringing me out of my hiding place and showing me more of this world that makes me want to risk living.
"Should I come in and look around?" She asks as her car keys dangle from her hand. She stands in front of me expectantly, but I can't give her that.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't." The moment I unlock the door and turn around, I block the doorway and put a hand on the doorknob. It's only open wide enough for me to stand in the gap comfortably. "I think I need to decompress; today's been a lot to handle."
She cocks a brow at me in that way I like. "You wouldn't lock me out, would you?"
The way she asks makes me smirk, which slowly shifts into a genuine smile as I consider her. She's so tall, so much taller than how she is in my thoughts. And her shoulders, so wide. She could protect me from anything. That pull to her is so strong it's scary. But Lisa herself doesn't scare me, not in the least. She never has. It's the power she has over me that's terrifying. "I would… but if you asked to come in, I'd let you."
My answer puts a smile on her face that matches mine. "See? I told you, you're different."
I huff a laugh, shaking my head. I'm not so sure that I'm different. It's more like I'm letting her see more of me. That's not the same thing.
She leans in close as I fail to summon a response, so close that I know exactly what she would want if I didn't lock her out tonight. I'm in over my head with her, hot and bothered and wanting the same thing she does.
I need to get away from this city more than ever.
"Get some sleep then," she says softly, in a deep, rugged tone when my eyes meet hers. The carnal need that burns in her gaze sets my body on fire. I'm still standing there, watching her walk away when I can finally breathe again.
What is she doing to me?
The feeling deep in my gut, the one that used to be constantly present, still lingers as I walk up the stairs. Something is telling me it's not all right, it's not a coincidence. But that something is quieted by the thoughts of Lisa and the idea that if it's not all right, I can run to her. It brings out a strength in me I desperately need. She does that to me. And I find it hard not to be drawn to her even more because of it, my stupid heart especially. She's been good at hurting it in the past, but it still wants more of her.