Jennie's POV
When I wake up, it takes me a moment to remember that I am not in bed with Lisa. The sun is peacefully shining through the bay window and as I look over, I catch sight of a figure and sit up quickly, orienting myself. As my eyes adjust I am convinced that I am going mad.
"Lisa?" I say quietly and wipe my eyes.
"Hey," she says from where she sits in a wingback chair, her elbows on her knees.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I snap. My heart aches already. "Jennie, we need to talk," she says, the bags under her eyes prominent. "Have you just been watching me sleep?" I ask.
"No, of course not. I came in here a few minutes ago," she says. I wonder if she had nightmares without me in bed with her. If I hadn't witnessed them myself, I would think those were part of her games as well, but I remember holding her sweaty face between my hands and seeing the real fear in her green eyes.
I stay silent. I don't want to fight with her. I just want her to go away. I hate that I don't actually want her to go away but know that she has to.
"We need to talk," she repeats. When I shake my head no, she runs both hands through her hair and takes a deep breath.
"I have to go to class," I tell her.
"Jisoo already left. I turned your alarm off. It's eleven already." "You what!"
"You were up late and I thought you—" she begins.
"How dare you even . . . Just go." The pain from her actions yesterday is still fresh, and actually overshadows the anger I feel at missing my morning classes, but I can't show any weakness or she will pounce on it. She always does.
"You're in my room," she points out.
I climb out of the bed, not caring if I am only in a T-shirt, her T-shirt. "You're right. I'll go," I say, the lump in my throat growing and tears threatening to spill out.
"No, I meant . . . I meant: you are in my room . . . Why?" Her voice is bleak.
"I don't know . . . I just . . . I couldn't sleep . . ." I admit. I need to stop talking. "It's not really your room anyway. I've slept here just as many times as you have. Actually more now," I point out.
"Your own shirt didn't fit?" she asks, her eyes focused on the white shirt.
Of course she is making fun of me.
"Go ahead, tease me," I say, the tears pooling at the bottom of my eyes.
She makes eye contact with me but I look away.
"I wasn't teasing you." She stands up from the chair and takes a step toward me. I back away and raise my hands to block her and she stops. "Just hear me out, okay?"
"What else could you possibly have to say, Lisa? We always do this. We have the same fight over and over, only worse each time. I can't do it anymore. I can't."
"I said I was sorry for kissing her," she says.
"That isn't what this is about. Well, that's part of it, but there is so much more. The fact that you don't get that proves that we are wasting our time. You will never be who I need you to be, and I am not who you want me to be." I wipe my eyes as she looks out the window.
"But you are who I want you to be," she says.
I wish I could believe her. I wish she wasn't so incapable of feelings. "You're not," is all I can say. I didn't want to cry in front of her, but I can't seem to stop myself. I have cried so many times since I met her, and if I get tangled back into her web, this is how it will always be.
"I'm not what?"
"Who I want you to be; you do nothing but hurt me." I walk past her and cross the hall to the guest room. I hastily pull my pants up my legs and gather my things, Lisa's eyes following my every move.
"Didn't you hear what I told you yesterday?" she finally says. I was hoping she wouldn't bring this up.
"Answer me," she says.
"Yeah . . . I heard you," I tell her, avoiding looking in her direction. Her voice becomes hostile. "And you have nothing to say about it?" "No," I lie. She steps in front of me. "Move," I beg.
She is dangerously close to me and I know what she is going to do as she moves in to kiss me. I try to back away from her, but her strong hands pull me closer, holding me in place. Her lips touch mine, and her tongue tries to push through my lips but I refuse.
She eases her head back slightly. "Kiss me back, Jen," she demands. "No." I push at her chest.
"Tell me you don't feel the same, and I will go." Her face is inches from mine, her breath hot on my face.
"I don't." It hurts to say the words but she has to go.
"Yes, you do," she says, her tone desperate. "I know you do."
"I don't, Lisa, and neither do you. You can't possibly think that I bought that?"
She lets go of me. "You don't believe that I love you?"
"Of course not, how stupid do you think I am?"
She stares at me for a second before she opens her mouth and closes it again. "You're right," she says.
"What?"
She shrugs. "You're right, I don't. I don't love you, I was just adding to the drama of the whole thing." She laughs lightly. I know she didn't mean it, but that doesn't make her honesty hurt any less. A part of me, a larger part than I want to accept, hopes that she actually did.
She stands against the wall as I walk out of the room, my bag in hand.
As I reach the stairs, Karen smiles up at me. "Jennie, sweetheart, I didn't know you were here!" Her smile fades as she notices my distressed state. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"
"No, I'm good. I was locked out of my room last night and I . . ." "Karen," Lisa's voice says from behind me.
"Lisa!" Her smile slightly returns. "Would you two like something to eat, some breakfast? Well, lunch, it's noon."
"No, thank you, I was just going back to the dorms," I tell her as I descend.
"I could eat," Lisa says behind me.
She seems surprised as she looks at me and then back at her. "Okay, great! I will be in the kitchen!"
After she disappears, I head for the door.
"Where are you going?" She grabs my wrist. I struggle for a second before she releases it.
"The dorms, like I just said."
"You're just going to walk?"
"What is wrong with you? You act like nothing is happening, like we haven't just been fighting, like you haven't done anything. You are seriously insane, Lisa—I'm talking mental institution, medicated, padded-walls insane. You say horrible things to me and then try to offer me a ride?" I can't keep up with her.
"I didn't say anything horrible, actually; all I said was that I don't love you, which you claim you already knew. And secondly, I wasn't offering you a ride. I was simply asking if you were going to walk back."
Her smug expression makes me dizzy. Why would she even come here to find me if she doesn't care about me? Doesn't she have anything better to do than torture me?
"What did I do?" I finally ask. I have been wanting to ask this for a while, but I've always been afraid of her answer.
"What?"
"What did I do to make you hate me?" I ask, trying to keep my voice down so Karen doesn't hear me. "You can have practically any girl you want and you continue to waste your time—and mine—to find new ways to hurt me. What's the point? Do you dislike me that much?"
"No, it's not that. I don't dislike you, Jennie. You just made yourself an easy target—it's all about the chase, right?" she says boastfully. Before she can say anything else, Karen calls her name and asks if she wants pickles on her sandwich.
She walks to the kitchen and answers her; I walk out the door.
On the way to the bus stop, I figure that I've already missed so many classes lately I might as well miss the rest of the day and get a car. Luckily, the bus pulls up minutes later and I find a seat in the very back.
As I slump down in the seat, I think back to what Jisoo said about heartbreak, that if you don't love the person, they can't break your heart.
Lisa repeatedly breaks my heart, even when I don't think there are any more pieces to break.
And I love her. I love Lisa.