JENNIE
I don't know what to do or say to Lisa at this point.
Part of me knows she isn't lying to me about the texts, but I don't think Rosé would do that to me. I just got finished talking to her about everything with Lisa, and she was so kind and understanding.
But this is Lisa.
Her voice is low and slow, but he presses: "Can you give me an answer?" "I don't know, I'm tired of the back-and-forth, too. It's so exhausting and I can't do it anymore, I really can't," I tell her.
"But I didn't do anything; we were fine until yesterday, and none of this is my fault. I know it usually is, but not this time. I'm sorry I didn't spend my birthday with you. I know I should have, and I'm sorry," Lisa says.
She rests her palms on her thighs as she sits in front of me on her knees, not begging like before but just waiting.
If she's telling the truth about not sending the texts, which I believe she is, then this really is just a misunderstanding.
"When will it stop, though? I've had enough of all of it. I had such a great time when you took me out, but then you wouldn't even stay until morning." It's been bothering me that she left like that, but I hadn't fully realized it, I guess.
"I didn't stick around because—per Jisoo, who I also consulted—I'm trying to give you space. I'm shit at it, obviously, but I thought if I gave you a little space you would have time to think about all of this and it would be easier for you," she tells me.
"It's not easier for me, but it's not all about me. It's about you, too," I tell her.
"What?" she questions.
"It's not only about me. I mean, this has to be exhausting for you, too." "Who gives a shit about me? I just want you to be okay and for you to know that I'm really trying here." "I do."
"You do what? Believe that I'm trying?" she asks. "That, and I give a shit about you," I tell her.
"So what are we doing, Jennie? Are we okay now? Or at least on the road to being okay?" She lifts her hand and brings it to my cheek.
She looks at me for approval and I don't stop her.
"Why are we both so crazy?" I whisper as her thumb runs over my bottom lip.
"I'm not. You surely are, though." She smiles.
"You're crazier than me," I tell her, and she inches closer and closer.
I'm irritated at her for yelling at me and for making me wait for her last night even though she supposedly had nothing to do with it, I'm upset that we can't seem to get along, but more than all of that I miss her. I miss the closeness between us. I miss the way her eyes change when she looks at me.
I have to admit my faults and the role I played in all of this mess. I know how stubborn I am, and it doesn't help anything when I assume the worst about her when she's trying, I know she is. I'm not ready to be in a relationship with her, but I have no reason to be upset with her over last night. I hope not, at least.
I don't know what to think, but I don't want to think right now. "No," she whispers, her lips mere centimeters from mine.
"Yes."
"Shut up." She presses her lips against mine with extreme caution. They barely touch mine as she uses both hands to cup my cheeks.
Her tongue grazes along my bottom lip, and I lose my breath. I open my mouth slightly to try to get some air, but there doesn't seem to be any— there's nothing, only her. I tug at her shirt to bring her off of her knees, but she doesn't budge as she continues to kiss me slowly. Her torturous pace is driving me mad, and I move from my spot at the end of the bed down to meet her on the floor.
Both of her arms wrap around my waist, and mine do the same to her neck. I try to push her back to climb on top of her, but once again she doesn't budge.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"Nothing, I just don't want to take it too far." "Why not?" I tell her, keeping our lips touching.
"Because we have a lot to talk about; we can't jump into bed without resolving anything."
What? "But we aren't on the bed, we're on the floor." I sound desperate. "Jennie . . ." She pushes me back again.
I give up. I scramble to my feet and sit back on the bed, and she stares at me with wide eyes.
"I'm just trying to do the right thing, okay? I want to fuck you, believe me I do. God, I do. But—"
"It's fine. Stop talking about it," I beg.
I know it's probably not the best idea, but I didn't necessarily think we were going to sleep together. I just wanted to be closer to her.
"Jen."
"Just stop, okay? I get it."
"No, you don't, obviously," she says in frustration and moves to her feet. "This is never going to be fixed, is it? This is how it will always be with us. Back and forth, up and down. You want me, but when I want you, all you do is push me away," I say, willing myself not to cry.
"No . . . that's not true."
"It seems like it. What do you want from me? You want me to believe that you're trying to prove that you can change for me, but then what?"
"What do you mean?" "What's after that?"
"I don't know . . . we haven't even gotten to that point yet. I want to continue to take you out and make you laugh instead of cry. I want you to love me again." Her eyes are glossing over, and she's blinking rapidly.
"I do love you, always," I assure her. "But it takes more than that, Lisa. Love doesn't conquer all, the way the novels make you believe. There are always so many complications, and they're overpowering the love that I have for you."
"I know. Things are complicated, but they won't always be. We can't get along with one another for even a day, we yell and fight and give each other the silent treatment like five-year-olds, we do things out of spite and we say the wrong things. We sure as hell complicate things when they don't need to be complicated, but we can figure it out somehow."
I don't know where we go from here. I'm glad that Lisa and I are having a somewhat civil discussion over everything that has happened, but I can't ignore the fact that she wouldn't support me going to Seattle.
I was going to tell her, but I'm afraid if I do she'll say something to Christian again, and honestly, if Lisa and I are going to continue trying to rebuild our relationship or whatever it is that we're doing, it will only complicate it more.
If we're truly able to make this work, it won't matter if I'm here or two hours away. I was raised better than to let a man dictate my future, no matter how deep my love for him is.
I know exactly what will happen: she'll lose her temper and storm out of here to find Christian, or Rosé. Most likely Rosé.
"If I pretend that the last twenty-four hours didn't happen, will you promise me something?" I ask her.
"Anything," she answers quickly. "Don't hurt her."
"Rosé?" she asks, anger coloring her voice. "Yes, Rosé," I clarify.
"No, fuck no. I'm not promising that." "You said—" I begin.
"No, don't even start that shit. She's causing a bunch of shit between us, and I'm not going to sit back and allow it. Fuck no." She paces back and forth.
"You don't have any proof that she did what you say, Lisa, and fighting her isn't going to solve anything. Just let me talk to her and—"
"No, Jennie! I already told you I don't want you near her. I'm not going to tell you again," she growls.
"You don't get to tell me who I can talk to, Lisa."
"What more proof do you need? Was her texting you from my phone not enough?"
"It wasn't her! She wouldn't do that."
I don't think she would, at least. Why would she?
I'm going to ask her about it either way, but I just don't see her doing that to me.
"You are literally the most naïve person I've ever met, and it's really fucking infuriating."
"Can we please stop arguing?" I sit back down on the bed and hold my head in my hands.
"Agree to stay away from her."
"Agree to not fight her, again," I fire back. "You'll stay away if I don't fight her?"
I don't want to agree, but I don't want Lisa to fight her either. This is all giving me a headache. "Yes."
"When I say stay away from her, I mean no contact with her at all. No texts, no going by the science building, nothing," she says.
"How did you know I went there?" I ask her. Did she see me?
My heart begins to race at the thought of Lisa seeing Rosé and me in the greenhouse full of glowing flowers.
"Jackson told me he saw you." "Oh."
"Is there anything else you need to tell me while we're on the topic of Rosé? Because once this conversation is over, I don't want to hear another word about her," Lisa says.
"No." I lie.
"You're sure?" she asks again.
I don't want to tell her, but I have to. I can't expect honesty from her when I don't give the same in return.
I close my eyes. "I kissed her," I whisper, hoping that she didn't hear me.
But when she knocks the books off the desk, I know she did.