Jennie's POV
I call out Lisa's name, but she ignores me. When she gets halfway to the car, she spins around so quickly that I almost crash into her.
"What the hell, Jennie! What the fuck was that?" she screams at me. People walking by start to stare, but she continues. "What kind of game are you trying to play here?" She moves toward me. She is angry—beyond angry. "There's no game here, Lisa—didn't you see how much he wanted you to come over? He was trying to reach out to you, and you were so disrespectful!" I'm really not sure why I'm yelling, but I'm not going to just let her shout at me.
"Reach out to me? Are you fucking kidding me? Maybe he should have reached out to me back when he was abandoning his family!" The veins in her neck strain under her skin.
"Stop swearing at me! Maybe he is trying to make up for lost time! People make mistakes, Lisa, and he obviously cares about you. He has that room for you at his house, full of clothes just in case—"
"You don't know shit about him, Jennie!" she screams and shudders with anger. "He lives in a fucking mansion with his new family while my mum works her ass off, fifty hours a week to pay her bills! So don't try to lecture me—mind your own damn business!"
She gets in the car, slamming her door closed. I scramble in, afraid that she might leave me here, she's so mad. So much for our argument-free day.
She's fuming mad but thankfully silent as we pull onto the main road. If I could keep it this quiet the rest of the ride, I'd be happy. But part of me insists that Lisa needs to understand that I will not be yelled at; that is one redeeming quality I give my mother credit for. She showed me exactly how not to be treated by a man.
"Fine," I say, feigning calm. "I will mind my own business, but I'm accepting the invitation to dinner tonight whether you go or not."
Like a wild animal who's been riled up, she turns in my direction.
"Oh no you're not!"
Retaining my fake calm, I say, "You have no say in what I do, Lisa, and in case you didn't notice, I was invited. Maybe I should see if Rosé wants to join me?"
"What did you just say!?" The dirt and dust start flying all over as Lisa jerks the steering wheel and pulls onto the shoulder of the busy road.
I know I pushed her too far, but I really am just as angry as she is by this point and yell, "What the hell is wrong with you? Pulling off the road like this!"
"What the hell is wrong with you is the question! You tell my dad I will go to his house for dinner, then you have the audacity to mention bringing Rosé?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry, your cool friends don't know that Jisoo is your stepsister and you're afraid they will find out?" I say and laugh at how ridiculous she is.
"She is not my stepsister, for one. And two, you know that isn't why I don't want Rosé there." Her voice is much lower now, yet still thick with anger.
But through the chaos in the car, that bubble of hope grows again at Lisa's jealousy. I know her feelings are more of a competition thing than actual concern over my being with her, but it still makes my stomach flutter.
"Well, if you won't go with me, I will have to invite her." I would never actually do it, but Lisa doesn't know that.
Lisa stares straight out onto the street for a few seconds and then sighs, deflating some of the tension. "Jennie, I really don't want to go. I don't want to sit around with my dad's perfect family. I avoid them for a reason."
I lighten my tone as well. "Well, I don't want to force you to go if it will hurt you, but I would really like if you could come with me. I am going either way."
We went from eating yogurt to screaming at each other and now we are calm again. My head is spinning at least as much as my heart.
"Hurt me?" She sounds incredulous.
"Yeah, if it will bother you that much to be there, I won't try to make you come," I answer. I know that I could never make Lisa do anything she doesn't want to do; she has no history of ever being cooperative.
"Why would you care if it hurt me?" Her eyes meet mine and I try to look away, but once again I am under her spell.
"Of course I would care; why wouldn't I?" "Why would you is the question."
The look in her eyes is a pleading one, like she wants me to say the words, but I can't. She will use them against me and then probably never want to hang out with me again. I will become the annoying girl who likes her, the kind of girls Wendy told me about.
"I care about how you feel," I say and I hope this answer can be good enough for her.
Interrupting our moment in the car, my phone rings. I pull it out of my purse and see it's Kai. Without thinking, I hit ignore before I realize what I'm doing.
"Who is it?" Lisa is so nosy. "Kai."
"You're not going to answer?" She looks surprised.
"No, we're talking." And I would rather talk to you, my subconscious adds.
"Oh" is all she says, but her smile is evident.
"So are you going to come with me? It's been a while since I've had a home-cooked meal, so I am not passing it up." I smile; the mood in the car is lighter but tense all the same.
"No. I have plans, anyway," she mutters. I don't want to know if those plans involve Nancy.
"Oh, okay. Are you going to be mad at me if I go?" It's sort of strange for me to just go to Lisa's father's house, but Jisoo is my friend, too, and I was invited.
"I'm always mad at you, Jen," she says, amusement in her eyes when she looks over at me.
I laugh. "I'm always mad at you, too," I tell her and she chuckles.
"Can we go back now? If a cop comes along, we'll get a ticket."
She nods, putting the car into drive and pulling back onto the road. The fight with Lisa blew over more quickly than I expected. I suppose she's much more used to constant conflict than I am; I would much rather spend time with her without fighting.
I promised myself that I wouldn't ask but I have to know . . . "So, what are your . . . um . . . plans today?"
"Why are you asking?" I can feel her eyes on me but I stare out the window.
"I'm just wondering, you said you had plans anyway so I was just wondering."
"We have a party again. That is basically what I do every Friday and Saturday, except last night and last Saturday . . ."
I trace a circle on the window with one finger. "Doesn't it get old? Just doing the same thing every weekend with the same drunk people?" I hope that doesn't offend her.
"Yeah . . . I guess it does. But we're in college, and I'm in a fraternity; what else is there to do?"
"I don't know . . . it just seems tedious, to clean up everyone's mess, every weekend especially when you don't even drink."
"It is, but I haven't found anything better to do with my time so—" She stops. I know she is still looking at me, but I keep my eyes away from her.
The rest of the drive is quiet. Not awkward, just quiet.
WALKING ALONE from the lot to my dorm, I'm flustered. My emotions are in overdrive. I just spent the night and most of the afternoon with Lisa and we got along, mostly. It was actually fun, a lot of fun. Why can't I have a great time like that with someone who actually likes me? Like Kai. I know I should call him back, but I want to revel in the way I feel right now.
When I get back to my room, I'm surprised to see Wendy there; she usually stays gone all weekend.
"Where have you been, young lady?" she teases and shoves a handful of cheese popcorn into her mouth.
I laugh and take my shoes off before plopping onto the bed. "I was looking for a car."
"Find one?" she asks, and I dive into telling her about the run-down lots I visited, leaving out Lisa's involvement in the afternoon. After a few minutes, there's a knock at the door and Wendy gets up to answer.
"What are you doing here, Lisa?" she growls.
Lisa. I glance up nervously and she walks over to my bed. She has her hands in her pockets and she rocks back on her heels.
"Did I forget something in your car?" I ask, and hear Wendy gasp. I will have to explain to her later, though I'm not sure how we ended up hanging out, either.
"Ermm . . . no. Um, well, I thought maybe I could drive you to my dad's house tonight. You know, since you didn't find a car," she spits out, not seeming to notice or care that Wendy is standing in the room with her jaw practically on the floor. "If not . . . that's okay, too. I just thought I would offer."
I sit up and she pulls her lip ring between her teeth. I love when she does that. I am so surprised by her offer, I almost forget to actually answer her. "Yeah . . . that would be great. Thank you."
I smile and she smiles back, warm and seemingly relieved. She pulls one hand out of her pocket and sweeps it through her hair before stuffing it back in.
"Okay . . . I'll come by about six thirty, so you can get there on time." "Thank you, Lisa."
"Jennie," she says calmly and walks out the door, pulling it shut behind her.
"What the hell was that?!" Wendy squeals.
"I don't know, actually," I admit. As soon as I think Lisa could not get more confusing, she does something like this.
"I cannot believe that just happened! I mean, Lisa . . . the way she came in here, like she was nervous or something! Oh my God! And she offered to drive you to her dad's . . . Wait, why are you going to her dad's house? And you thought you left something in her car? How do I miss so much! I need details!" She practically shouts and bounds onto the foot of my bed.
So I go through the whole thing, explaining to her how she showed up here last night and we watched a movie and she fell asleep, how we went to look at cars today—and how I didn't mention her being there before because I figured that if I insisted she help me keep her away, it would feel odd to admit I'd hung out with her. I don't say much about her dad except that I am going there for dinner, but she seems more interested in last night anyway.
"I can't believe she stayed here—that is a huge deal. Like Lisa doesn't just stay places, ever. And she never lets anyone stay with her. I heard she has nightmares or something, I don't know. But seriously—what have you done to her? I wish I would have recorded the way she looked when she just came here!" she yells and laughs. "I still don't think this is a good idea, but you do seem to handle her better than most. Just be careful," she warns again.
What have I done to her? Nothing, surely. She just isn't used to being nice, but for some reason she's being nice to me. Maybe it's a way to beat me at some game, or prove a point that she can fake manners? I am not sure and it hurts my head to try to figure it out.
I bring up Bambam, and Wendy takes the conversation from there. I try to pay attention to her stories from last night's party: how Nancy ended up shirtless (go figure) and Ten beat Jackson in a drunken arm-wrestling match (she swears it was one of those things that are much funnier when you're there). My thoughts drift back to Lisa, of course, and I check the clock to make sure I have enough time to get ready for tonight. It is four o'clock now, so I should start getting ready at five.
Wendy talks until five thirty and is ecstatic when I ask her to do my hair and makeup. I am not sure why I am putting such effort into looking okay for a family dinner that I really shouldn't be going to, but I do anyway. She applies the makeup lightly so you can barely tell it's there, but it looks great. Natural but pretty. Then she curls my hair the way she did before. I decide to wear my favorite maroon dress, despite Wendy's attempts to have me wear something from her closet. My maroon dress is nice and conservative, perfect for a family dinner.
"At least wear the lace tights underneath, or let me cut the sleeves off it," she says with a groan.
"Fine, give me the lace tights, I guess. This isn't that bad, though—it's formfitting," I rebut.
"I know, it's just . . . boring." She crinkles her nose. She looks more pleased when I put on the tights and agree to high heels. I still have a pair of Toms tucked in my purse from yesterday, just in case.
As six thirty approaches, I realize I am more nervous about the ride to dinner than the actual dinner. I fidget with the tights and practice walking around the room a few times before Lisa finally knocks on the door. Wendy gives me a strange smile and I pull the door open.
"Wow, Jennie, you . . . um . . . look nice," she mumbles and I smile. Since when does she say "um" in every sentence?
Wendy escorts us out the door, winks, and exclaims like a proud parent, "You two have fun!"
Lisa flips her off, and she returns the vulgar gesture as she closes the door in her face.