JENNIE
Rosé's hand immediately moves to my cheek, causing the skin on the back of my neck to rise, and she pulls my arm to bring me to her. I hit my knee on the steering wheel as I climb across and mentally curse at myself for nearly ruining the moment, but she doesn't seem to notice and wraps her arms around my back, bringing me flush against her chest. My arms latch around her neck, and our mouths move in sync.
Her mouth is foreign to me; it's not like Lisa's. Her tongue doesn't move the same, it doesn't trace mine, and she doesn't trap my bottom lip between her teeth.
Stop it, Jennie. You need this, you need to stop thinking about Lisa. She's surely in bed with some random girl, Nancy even. Oh God, if she's with Nancy . . .
You could have been happy all the time, not just sometimes, Rosé just said.
I know she's right—I would have been much better off with her. I deserve this. I deserve to be happy. I've suffered enough and dealt with enough of Lisa's bullshit, and she hasn't even tried to talk to me about it. Only a weak person would run back to someone who has trampled on them repeatedly. I can't be that weak, I have to be strong and move on. Or try at least.
I feel better right now, in this moment, than I've felt in the last nine days. Nine days doesn't sound like a long time until you spend it counting every single second of misery waiting for something that doesn't come. With Rosé's arms around me, I can finally breathe. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Rosé has always been so kind to me and she's always been there. I wish she had been the one I fell for instead of Lisa.
"God, Jennie . . ." Rosé moans and I tug at her hair. I kiss her harder.
"Wait . . ." she says into my mouth, and I pull away slowly. "What is this?" She looks into my eyes.
"I . . . I don't know?" My voice is shaky and I'm out of breath. "Me, either . . ."
"I'm sorry . . . I'm just emotional, and I've been going through a lot, and what you said to me just now made me . . . I don't know, I shouldn't have done that." I look away from her and climb off of her lap, getting back into the driver's seat.
"It's nothing to be sorry for . . . I just don't want to get the wrong idea, you know? I just want to know what this means to you," she tells me.
What does this mean to me? "I don't think I can answer that, not yet. I—"
"Thought so," she says, her voice slightly angry. "I just don't know . . ."
"It's fine, I get it. You still love her."
"It's only been nine days, Rosé, I can't help it." I keep managing to make new messes, each one bigger than the last.
"I know, I'm not saying that you can or will stop loving her. I just don't want to be your rebound. I just started dating someone—I haven't dated anyone since I met you, and I finally met Soojoo. Then, when I drove you home and saw the way you reacted to me dating someone, I started thinking . . . I know I'm an idiot, but I started thinking you didn't want me to move on or something." I look away from her handsome face and stare out the window.
"You aren't my rebound . . . I wanted to kiss you just now; I just don't know what I'm thinking or doing. Nothing's made sense to me for the last nine days, and I finally stopped thinking about her when I kissed you and it felt amazing. I felt like I could do this. I could get over her, but I know that it's not fair for me to use you that way. I'm just confused and irrational. I'm sorry for making you cheat on your girlfriend; that wasn't my intention. I just—"
"I don't expect you to move on so soon. I know how deep her claws are into you."
She has no idea.
"Just tell me one thing," Rosé says and I nod. "Tell me that you'll at least try to allow yourself to be happy. She hasn't even called you, not once. She's done so much shit to you and she hasn't even tried to fight for you. If that were me, I'd be fighting for you. I would have never let you go in the first place." She reaches across and tucks an errant lock of hair behind my ear. "Jennie, I don't need an answer right now, I just need to know that you're ready to try to be happy. I know you aren't ready for any type of relationship with me, but maybe someday you will be."
My mind is racing, my heart is racing and aching all at once, and the air has been sucked out of the car. I want to tell her that I can try and I will try to allow myself this, but the words won't come. That small smile that Lisa has on her face in the mornings when I finally get her to wake up after complaining about my alarm clock, the way her raspy morning voice says my name, the way she tries to force me to stay in bed with her and I end up squealing and running from the room, the way she likes her coffee black just like me, the way I love her more than anything in the entire world and I wish she could be different. I wish she could be exactly the same, only different—it doesn't make sense to me, and I know it won't make sense to anyone else, but that's the way it is.
I wish I didn't love her as much as I do. I wish she hadn't made me fall in love with her.
"I get it. It's okay," Rosé says, and she tries her best to smile but fails miserably.
"I'm sorry . . ." I say, and mean it more than she could ever know.
She climbs out of the car and shuts the door behind her, and I'm left alone, again.
"Fuck!" I scream and hit my hands against the steering wheel, reminding me of Lisa once again.