JENNIE
"Stay with me tonight?" Lisa asked, her eyes scanning my face. I nod eagerly.
So now that she's pulling her shirt over her head, I grab at it greedily and bring it to my chest. Shw watches me as I change, but stays silent. Our relationship is so confusing—it always is—but now especially. At the moment, I'm not sure who holds the upper hand. Earlier I was upset with her for standing me up on her birthday, but now I'm pretty convinced she had nothing to do with that, so I'm back where I was days ago when she so sweetly took me ice skating.
She was so upset with me over Rosé, but now I can barely tell how she felt, given the smiles and sarcastic humor she keeps throwing at me. Maybe her anger is overpowered by the fact that she missed me and she's happy that I'm no longer upset with her? I don't know the reasoning, but I know better than to question it. I do wish she'd let me talk about Seattle. How will she react? I don't even want to tell her, but I know that I have to. Will she be happy for me? I don't think so; actually, I know she won't be.
"Come here." She coaxes me onto her chest as she lies back on the bed. Her hand finds the remote to the television on the wall, and she flicks through channel after channel before pausing on some sort of historical documentary.
"How was it seeing your mom?" I ask her a few minutes later.
She doesn't respond, and when I look up at her face, she's fast asleep.
IT'S HOT. WAY TOO HOT, when I come back to consciousness. Lisa is lying on top of me, nearly all her weight pinning me down to the mattress. I'm on my back and Lisa's on her front, her head on my chest; one of her arms is wrapped around my waist and the other stretched across the space next to her. I've missed sleeping this way and even waking up sweating from Lisa's body blanketing mine. When I glance at the clock, I see that it's seven twenty—my alarm is set to go off in ten minutes. I don't want to wake Lisa, she looks so serene; a soft smile plays on her sleeping lips. She usually frowns, even in her sleep.
In an attempt to move her without waking her up, I lift her arm from around my waist.
"Mm-hmm . . ." she whines as her eyes flutter and her body stirs, gripping me tighter.
I stare at the ceiling and debate whether or not to just roll her off of me.
"What time is it?" she asks, her voice thick with sleep. "Almost seven-thirty." I tell her quietly.
"Dammit. Can we play hooky today?"
"No, but you can." I smile and gently run my fingers over her hair, massaging her scalp softly.
"We could go to breakfast?" She turns her face to look at me.
"You drive a hard bargain, but I can't." I really want to, though. She slides her body down slightly so her chin rests just under my chest. "Did you sleep well?" I ask her.
"Yes, very. I haven't slept like that since . . ." She trails off.
I feel so happy suddenly and smile wide. "I'm glad you got some sleep." "Can I tell you something?" She doesn't seem quite awake yet; her eyes are glossy and her voice is raspier than ever.
"Of course." I go back to massaging her scalp.
"When I was in Thailand, at my mum's, I had a dream . . . well, nightmare."
Oh no. My heart sinks. I knew her nightmares had come back, but it still hurts me to hear about it.
"I'm sorry those dreams came back."
"No, they didn't just come back, Jen. They were worse." I swear that I feel her body shiver, but her face holds no emotion.
"Worse?"
How could they possibly be worse?
"It was you, they were . . . doing it to you," she says, and ice replaces the warm blood in my veins.
"Oh." My voice is weak, pathetic.
"Yeah. It was . . . it was so fucked up. It was so much worse than before because I'm used to the ones with my mum, you know?"
I nod and bring my other hand to her bare arm to caress it like I'm doing to her scalp.
"I didn't even try to sleep after that. I purposely stayed awake because I couldn't bear to see it again. The thought of someone hurting you drives me mad."
"I'm so sorry." Her eyes are haunted, and mine are full of tears.
"Don't pity me." She reaches up and captures the tears before they fall. "I'm not. It makes me upset because I don't want you to be hurt. I don't pity you." It's true, I don't pity her. I feel terrible for this broken woman who has nightmares about her mother being violated and abused, and the thought of my face replacing Chit's kills me. I don't want those thoughts tainting her already anguished mind.
"You know I would never let anyone hurt you, don't you?" Her eyes meet mine.
"Yes, I do, Lisa."
"Even now, even if we never get back to where we were before. I'd kill anyone who even tried, okay?" Her tone is clipped yet soft.
"I know," I assure her with a small smile.
I don't want to appear alarmed by her sudden threats, because I know that she means them in a loving way.
"It was nice to sleep." She lightens the mood slightly, and I nod in agreement.
"Where do you want to go for breakfast?" I ask her. "You said no, that you—"
"I changed my mind. I'm hungry."
After her being so open with me about her nightmares, I want to spend the morning with her maybe she'll continue the open line of communication. I usually have to fight her for any type of information, but she confessed this willingly and that means the world to me.
"So easily persuaded by my pathetic story?" She raises a brow. "Don't say that." I scowl.
"Why not?" She sits up and climbs off of the bed.
"Because it's not true. It wasn't what you told me that changed my mind, but that you shared that with me. And don't call yourself pathetic. That's certainly not true." My feet hit the floor as she pulls her jeans up over her legs. "Lisa . . ." I say when she doesn't reply.
"Jennie . . ." She mocks me in a high-pitched voice.
"I mean it, you shouldn't think of yourself like that."
"I know," she says quickly, abruptly ending the conversation.
I know Lisa is far from perfect and she has her flaws, but so does everyone else, especially me. I wish she was able to see past her flaws; maybe that would help resolve her issues about the future.
"So anyway, do I have you all day or just for breakfast?" She bends down to push her foot into her shoe.
"I like those shoes, I've been meaning to tell you." I point to the solid black tennis shoes she's putting on.
"Um . . . thanks . . ." She laces them and stands back up. For someone with such a big ego, she's terrible at accepting compliments. "You still didn't answer me."
"Just breakfast. I can't miss all my classes." I pull her shirt over my head and replace it with one of my own.
"Okay."
"I just need to pull my hair back and brush my teeth," I say after I'm finished getting dressed. As I begin to scrub my tongue, Lisa knocks at the door.
"Come in," I mumble through the paste in my mouth. "It's been a while since we've done this," she tells me. "Had sex in the bathroom?" I ask. Why did I just say that?
"Nooooo . . . I was going to say 'brushed our teeth together.'" She laughs and opens one of the packs of toothbrushes from the cabinet. "However, if bathroom sex is something you want . . ." Lisa teases, and I roll my eyes. "I don't know why I said that, it was the first thing that came to my mind." I have to laugh at my stupidity and quick tongue.
"Well, that's good to hear." She dips the brush under the faucet and doesn't say another word. After both of us brush our teeth and I attempt to comb my hair into a ponytail, we head downstairs. Karen and Jisoo are in the kitchen, talking over bowls of oatmeal.
Jisoo gives me a warm smile; she doesn't seem too surprised by seeing Lisa and me together. Karen doesn't either. If anything, I think she looks . . . pleased? I can't tell, because she brings her coffee cup to her mouth to hide her smile.
"I'm taking Jennie to campus today," Lisa tells Jisoo. "Okay."
"Ready?" Lisa turns to me, and I nod.
"I'll see you in Religion." I tell Jisoo before Lisa drags me, literally, out of the kitchen.
"What's the rush?" I ask her once we're outside.
She grabs my bag from my shoulder as we walk down the driveway. "Nothing, but I know you two; if you start talking, we'll never make it out of there, and when you add Karen into the mix, I'd starve to death before you shut up." She opens the car door for me before walking around to open her own and climb in.
"True." I smile.
We debate over IHOP or Denny's for at least twenty minutes before deciding on IHOP. Lisa claims that they have the best French toast, but I refuse to believe it until I eat it.
"It'll be ten to fifteen minutes before you can be seated," a short woman with a blue scarf around her neck tells us when we walk inside.
"Okay," I say at the same time that Lisa says, "Why?"
"We're busy and there aren't any tables open at the moment," she explains sweetly. Lisa rolls her eyes and I pull her away from her to sit at the bench in the entryway.
"It's nice to see you're back," I tease. "What's that mean?"
"I just mean you've still got your edge." "When didn't I?"
"I don't know, when we went on our date and a little last night." "I trashed that bedroom and cussed you out," she reminds me. "I know, I'm trying to make a joke."
"Well, try making a good one next time," she says, but I see the glint of a smile appear.
When we're finally seated, we give our order to a young guy with a beard that seems to be a little too long for someone who's working as a waiter. After he walks off, Lisa complains and swears that if he finds a hair in his food, he's going to lose it. "Just had to show you that I still have my edge," she reminds me, and I giggle.
I love that she's trying to be a little nicer, but I also love her attitude and the way she doesn't care what people think of her. I wish more of those qualities would rub off on me. Shw runs through a list of other things that are bothering her about the place until our food arrives.
"Why can't you just miss the entire day?" Lisa asks as she shovels a forkful of French toast into her mouth.
"Because . . ." I begin. Oh, you know, because I'm transferring to another campus and I don't want to complicate things by losing any participation points before I transfer in the middle of the semester.
"I don't want to lose my A's," I tell her.
"This is college, no one goes to class," she tells me for the hundredth time since I met her.
"Aren't you excited about yoga?" I laugh. "No. Not at all."
We finish breakfast, and the mood is still light as Lisa drives toward the campus. Her phone vibrates on the console but she ignores it. I want to answer for her but we're getting along so well. The third time it rings, I finally speak up.
"Aren't you going to answer that?" I ask her.
"No, it'll go to voicemail. It's probably my mum." She lifts the phone to show me the screen.
"See, she left a voicemail. Can you check it?" she asks.
My curiosity gets the best of me and I snatch the phone from her hands. "Speakerphone," she reminds me.
"You have seven new voicemails," the robotic voice announces as she parks the car.
She groans. "This is why I never check them."
I press the numeral one to listen to them. "Lisa? . . . Lisa, it's Jennie . . . I . . ." I try to press the end button but Lisa grabs the phone from my hand.
Oh God.
"Well, I need to talk to you. I'm in my car and I'm so confused . . ." My voice is hysterical and I want to jump out of the car.
"Please turn it off," I beg her but she shifts the phone into her other hand so I can't reach it.
"What is this?" she asks, staring at the phone.
"Why haven't you even tried? You just let me leave and here I am pathetically calling you and crying into your voicemail. I need to know what happened to us? Why was this time different, why didn't we fight it out? Why didn't you fight for me? I deserve to be happy, Lisa." My idiotic voice fills the car, trapping me inside.
I sit in silence and stare down at my hands in my lap. This is humiliating; I had nearly forgotten about the voicemail and I wish she hadn't heard it, especially not now.
"When was this?" "While you were gone."
She lets out a deep breath and ends the call. "What were you confused about?" she asks.
"I don't think you want to talk about it." I pull my lip between my teeth. "Yes, I do." Lisa unbuckles her seat belt and turns to face me.
I look up at her, and try to think of how to phrase this. "That hideous voicemail is from the night . . . the night I kissed her."
"Oh." She turns her face away from me.
Breakfast went so well, only to be ruined by my stupid voice-mail that I left in the middle of an emotional tidal wave. I shouldn't be held accountable.
"Before or after you kissed her?" "After."
"How many times did you kiss her?" "Once."
"Where?"
"My car," I squeak.
"Then what? What did you do after you left this?" She holds the phone in the air between us.
"Went back to her apartment." As soon as the words leave my mouth, Lisa rests her forehead against the steering wheel.
"I . . ." I begin.
She raises her finger to silence me. "What happened at her apartment?" She closes her eyes.
"Nothing! I cried and we watched television." "You're lying."
"No, I'm not. I slept on the couch. The only time I slept in her room was the time you showed up there. I haven't done anything with her except kiss her, and a few days ago when I met her for lunch, she tried to kiss me and I pulled away."
"She tried to kiss you again?"
Shit. "Yes, but she understands the way I feel about you. I know I made a huge mess of all of this and I'm sorry for even spending time with her. I don't have a good reason or excuse but I'm sorry."
"You remember what you said, right? That you'll stay away from her?" Her breathing is controlled, too controlled, as she lifts her head from the wheel.
"Yes, I remember." I don't like the idea of being told who I can be friends with, but I can't say I wouldn't expect the same from her if the roles were reversed, which they have been a lot lately.
"Now that I know the details, I don't want to talk about it again, okay? I mean it . . . like I don't even want to hear her fucking name come out of your mouth." She's trying to stay calm.
"Okay," I agree and reach across to grab her hand in mine. I don't want to talk about it anymore either; we've both said all we can say about the subject, and going back over it will only cause more unnecessary problems for us and our already damaged relationship. It's sort of a relief to be the cause of the problem this time, because the last thing Lisa needs is another reason to despise herself.
"We better get to class," she finally says.
My heart sinks at her cool tone, but I keep my mouth shut as she withdraws her hand from mine. Lisa walks me to the philosophy building, and I scan the street for Jisoo but don't see her. She must be inside already.
"Thank you for breakfast," I say and take my bag from Lisa's hand.
"It's nothing." She shrugs, and I attempt a smile before turning to walk away.
A hand presses into my arm, and even before her mouth forcefully presses against mine, she's claimed me in the way only she can.
"I'll see you after class. I love you," she breathes and withdraws, leaving me panting and smiling as I head inside.