Chapter 12

Kissing Kai is... nice. It's familiar. Sweet.

Like finding your old Strawberry Shortcake house in your parents' attic. And you smile when you see it. You run your hand over the balcony and remember all the days you spent wrapped up in its make-believe world. It's nostalgic. A part of your childhood.

But it's a part you've left behind. Because you're a grown-up now.

So no matter how dear the memories are, you're not going to bust out Apple Dumplin' and Plum Puddin' and start playing.

The kiss ends and I lower my head. And I stare at Kai's shirt. You know that line—I think it's from a song—if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with?

That could fit really well in this situation.

Except for the fact that I already love Kai. Too much to take advantage of his devotion—too much to use him to heal my broken heart and bruised ego. He deserves better than that. Kai is no one's consolation prize. And I'd happily scratch the eyes out of any woman who tried to make him one.

He once told me I wasn't the girl he fell in love with anymore. And as much as it hurt to hear, as inadequate as it made me feel at the time—he was right.

I'm not that girl anymore.

I drag my eyes from his shirt to his face. "Kai..."

He puts his finger to my lips, brushing them softly. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. Neither of us moves for a moment, caught up for a few final seconds in the enchantment of the past.

Then he speaks, breaking the spell. "Being here with you? It's awesome. As good as I remember—better, even. It feels... it feels like we got to take a ride in the DeLorean." His hand holds my face tenderly. "But it's okay, Jennie. It was just for a minute. And now we're back to the future. It doesn't have to mean anything more than that. It doesn't have to change what we have now, 'cause that's pretty awesome too."

I nod, relieved. Thankful that Kai knows what I feel without me having to say the words. And that he feels the same.

"Okay."

He smiles. "I should get you home, before your mom calls out the dogs. Or worse—Amelia."

I chuckle. And hand in hand, we leave the roller-skating rink and all of its memories behind.

Twenty minutes later, Kai pulls into the back parking lot of my mother's diner. We sit in the truck silently, side by side.

"You want me to walk you up?"

"No—it's all right. I can manage."

He nods slowly. "So... is there gonna be like... weirdness between us now? Because we tongue-wrestled for a couple minutes?"

Like I said before—Kai always did have a way with words.

"No. No weirdness. No worries."

He needs further confirmation. "You still my girl, Jen?"

He doesn't mean in the girlfriend way. He means in the friend—the best friend, who happens to be a girl—kind of way. In case you were wondering.

"I'll always be your girl, Kai."

"Good." He turns his head to the windshield and looks out. "You should really think about California. I think it would be a nice change for you. A clean break."

He's right, in a way. California would be a blank page for me. No memories. No painful run-ins. No awkward conversations. And with my résumé, I don't foresee finding a new job to be too much of a problem.

That being said... I have connections in New York. Roots. And I'm not sure I want to sever all of them. So like every other aspect of my life at the moment, I don't know what the hell I want to do.

Sound like a broken record, don't I? Sorry.

I put my hand over his on the gearshift. "I'll think about it."

He puts his other hand on top of mine. "You'll figure it out, Jennie—I know you will. And it gets better. You won't hurt like this forever. I speak from experience."

I smile gratefully. "Thanks, Kai. For everything." Then I climb out of the truck and he drives away.

After letting my mother know I'm back, I head to my room. I shut the door behind me and lean against it. Exhausted.

Talk about a long frigging day.

My mother's cleaned my room. Not that it was messy before, but I can tell. The pillows are fluffed just a bit more, and my cell phone sits neatly on the nightstand.

I kick off my shoes, pick it up, and turn it on. Despite my hissy fit earlier, it still works. I stare at the numbers. They're lit up. Calling to me. Taunting me.

It would be so easy. Just ten quick digits and I could hear her voice. It's been forever since I heard her voice. My hands shake a little. Like a junkie, needing a fix—just a taste.

Do you think she'd pick up?

Do you think she'd be alone if she did?

And that's the thought that kills the craving. There's no way I'm calling.

Still... I don't listen to my voicemails often. Usually I just check the missed call list. I delete my voicemails even less.

I scroll down the screen, to the date I need.

And press play.

"Hey, babe. The golf outing ran over. I was gonna stop and pick up a bottle for later. You want Dom or Philipponnat? You know what? On second thought—screw the Champagne. You taste better than both of them put together. I'll be home in five minutes."

I close my eyes and let her words wash over me. Lisa has an amazing voice. Calm and soothing—but devilishly seductive at the same time. She totally could've gone into radio.

I press another button.

This time her tone is teasing. "Nini, you're late. Tell Jisoo to pick out her own goddamn shoes. You've got a girlfriend who's sitting in a big, frothy Jacuzzi all by her lonesome. Come home, sweetheart. I'm here waiting for you."

If only that was true today.

There's more—some are quick and to the point, some are downright dirty. And I listen to every single one. She doesn't say "I love you" in any of them—but she doesn't have to. I hear it in every word. Every time she says my name.

And I can't help but wonder how this all happened? How did we get here? And can we ever go back?

I don't cry. There just aren't any tears left. I curl up in the middle of my bed. And Lisa's voice lulls me to sleep.

The next afternoon, Kai and I are in the back room of the diner, sharing a plate of fries. He's working on a new song and he thinks better on his feet.

See him there? Walking from one end of the room to the other, mumbling and humming, and occasionally strumming the guitar strapped across his chest?

I sit at the table. Trying to think my way out of the pit of despair that is now my life.

As Kai crosses toward the door that leads to the diner, something catches his eye in the round window at the top. And he backs away. "Oh, shit."

I look up. "What? What's wrong?"

Then the door bursts open. It slams against the wall and then stays in place—afraid to move an inch. Because there, standing in the doorway in all her pissed-off glory, is my best friend.

Jisoo Kim.

Oh, shit indeedy.

She's wearing red knee-high leather boots, tight black pants, an embellished black top, and a short, black-and-white faux fur jacket. A myriad of Louis Vuitton bags hang off her shoulders, matching the large wheeled one trailing behind her.

And the anger in her amber eyes makes them sparkle like freshcut topaz stones . "Does someone want to tell me why I had to hear from my mother that there was a Three Musketeers' reunion going on in Greenville that I wasn't invited to?"

She stomps forward. Kai moves behind my chair, using me like a human shield.

"Or better yet—would anyone like to explain why my best friend took off from New York like a bat out of hell, leaving behind a shit storm that makes Sandy look like an April-fucking-shower—and I have no idea why?!"

She takes another step forward and drops her bags to the floor. Then she snaps her head to the right—in the direction of the perky blond teenager standing next to the lockers.

That's Kimberly. She's a waitress here. Works after school. She's seems nice.

And at the moment—terrified.

"Hey, Gidget, how about you make yourself useful and get me a Diet Coke? Don't scrimp on the ice."

Kimberly flees the room.

Lucky girl.

Jisoo points at me and yells, like Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men, "Well?! You can't keep me out of the loop, Jennie. I am the loop!"

My voice comes out meek. Repentant. If you're ever in the attack range of an angry she-wolf, lay down and play dead. It'll go easier that way.

"I didn't want to ruin your vacation."

Jisoo snorts, "If only Queen Bee-atch Rosé had been so thoughtful. She called us twenty times at the hotel—freaking out about how we had to come home because Lisa needed a suicide watch."

I roll my eyes. "She's exaggerating."

"I thought so too. Until I saw the Dark Princess myself. Wasn't pretty."

I take the news like a newborn bird to a worm, greedy for more. "You saw Lisa? What did she say? Did she ask about me?"

"She really wasn't capable of coherent speech at the time. Mostly just mumbled like the village idiot she is. Bobby was carrying her. Apparently Dickwad is making quite the dent in the bar scene these days, and Bobby's been watching her back. Which is frightening in and of itself, considering Bobby is poised for the Slutman of the Year award."

Lisa has been going out. To the bars. With Bobby. You remember the last time Lisa went out with Bobby, don't you? Taxi girl?

So this is how it feels to get stabbed with an ice pick—right in the heart.

Kai's voice is sarcastic, drawing her fire away from me. "Hey, Jisoo, it's good to see you too. I'm great, thanks for asking. The album? Doin' awesome—triple platinum. California? Fabulous, couldn't be happier. Again..." He cups his hands around his mouth, megaphone style, "... thanks for asking."

Jisoo's eyes zero in on him, looking him over head to toe. Not happy with what she sees. "It's called a razor; you should get one. If ancient man could figure it out, you've got a slim chance. Oh—and Pearl Jam called. They want their flannel back."

Kai's brows go up. "You're criticizing my style? Really, Cruella? How many puppies had to die so you could wear that coat?"

"Eat shit."

"Cooking again, are you? I thought the health department banned you for life the last time you tried?"

Jisoo opens her mouth for a rebuttal, but nothing comes out. Her glossy lips stretch slowly into a smile. "I've missed you, Jackass."

Kai winks. "Right back at you, cuz."

He sits in the chair beside me and Jisoo collapses in the other one. "Okay, Jendeuk. Fuckin' splain."

I take a big breath. "I'm pregnant."

At first, Jisoo doesn't say a word. Then she makes the sign of the cross. "The Antichrist has spawned? For fuck's sake, we have to hose you down with holy water or something. Have the Four Horsemen arrived yet?"

Kimberly comes back with a big glass of soda. She puts it down in front of Jisoo, then scurries away.

Jisoo takes a long sip. "So you're unexpectedly knocked up—congratulations. Happens to the best of us. What's the problem?"

I stare down at the table. "Lisa doesn't want the baby."

As you already know, my best friend is not a fan of Lisa's. When it comes to her, she always assumes the worst. Always. So I expect her to be angry on my behalf. I expect her to go off on a magnificent tirade about man-whores and dogs and venereal diseases. I expect her to join me in another round of the naughty name-calling game.

But she doesn't do any of those things.

Instead—she laughs.

"What are you talking about? Of course she wants the baby. Lisa Manoban not wanting a mini-her running around? That's like saying Bambam doesn't want a blow job when we're stuck in traffic. Just ridiculous."

Needless to say, I'm surprised. "Why do you think that?"

She shrugs. "A conversation we had once. Plus, she and Mackenzie—they're like Master Blaster from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. Tell me exactly what she said to you. Sometimes girls talk out their asses, and you have to wade through the shit to figure out what they really mean."

"Oh, she was pretty clear. Her exact words were 'End it.' And of course the stripper she was making out with at the time really drove the point home," I say bitterly.

Jisoo points at me. And now she looks pissed. "That, I believe. Fucking prick." She holds her hands up. "But it's okay. Don't panic. I'll take care of everything. We have this new fuel at the lab that's ready for animal testing. She won't know what hit her—I can slip it right through the vents."

She turns to Kai. "You're in charge of the garden hose and duct tape." Then she looks at me. "I'll need your keys and security code."

I shake my head. "Jisoo, you can't gas Lisa to death."

"It might not kill her. If I had to guess, I'd say the odds for survival are fifty-fifty."

"Jisoo..."

"Okay, thirty-seventy. But still, that gives us plausible deniability."

My mother and George walk into the room, interrupting the diabolical plan. My mom hugs Jisoo tight. "Hi, honey! It's so good to see you. Are you hungry?"

"Starved." She looks at George. "Hey George, how they hanging?"

I think George Lee is a little afraid of Jisoo.

Maybe more than a little.

He adjusts his glasses. "They're... hanging well... thank you."

My mother coos, "Look at the three of you. Here, all together again, just like old times."

Jisoo grins. "Frightening, isn't it?"

My mother takes George's hand. "We'll go cook you kids something for lunch."

They leave, and Jisoo rubs her hands together like the mad scientist she is. "Now, back to the gas chamber..."

I cut her off. "Jisoo—I don't think I'm going to have it."

All traces of humor leave her face. She thinks for a moment. Looks thoughtful, but nonjudgmental. When she speaks, her voice is serious. But kind.

"I'll support you a hundred and fifty percent, Jennie; you know that. But because I know you, I'm gonna say this: If you decide to do this? Make sure it's for you—because it's what you want to do. If you're doing it because you think it's what Lisa wants, or as some warped attempt to work things out with her? Don't. You'll just end up hating yourself for it—and resenting her."

You can't bullshit best friends. And sometimes that's a double-edged sword—because it means they won't let you bullshit yourself.

"I haven't decided anything for sure. Not yet."

Jisoo's phone goes off in her purse, and the sound of Akon's "Sexy Bitch" fills the air. While she digs into her bag, she asks Kai, "Could you bring my luggage up to Jennie's room? I'm gonna crash here tonight."

"Do I look like a fucking bellboy?"

Jisoo doesn't miss a beat. "No, you look like a homeless person. But I don't have a windshield for you to spit on. So be a good little vagrant and take my bags upstairs—then maybe I'll throw a dollar at you."

With a grin, Kai goes to do it. Still, he complains, "This was so much more fun when she wasn't here."

Jisoo looks at her phone. "Ugg—it's Bambam. I swear, that boy can't take a shit without calling to tell me what color it is." She walks through the back door to take the call outside.

And Kai looks at me. "Okay, I'm a guy—and even I thought that was gross."

Can't say I disagree with him.

A few minutes later, Jisoo tears back into the room. Still on the phone and going off like a cherry bomb. "Of all the ignorant, balls-out shitty things to say... by the time I'm done with you, they're going to have to reinstate your V card, buddy!"

She punches the OFF button on her cell much harder than necessary.

"Problem?"

"Yes. The problem is, people are what's between your legs—which explains why my husband is behaving like a big, fat, uncircumcised dick!"

I cover my ears. "TMI Jisoo! T. M. I." There are some things you just don't want to know about your friend's husband. "What happened?"

She huffs and sits down next to me. "Apparently, after I left for the airport this morning, Bambam went to check on Lisa. The apartment was locked up like Fort Knox, but Bambam had that extra key. So he goes in and finds your ass-hat ex-girlfriend passed out wasted, on the bathroom floor. After she went all Left Eye Lopes, setting shit on fire in the bathtub."

"What!?"

"Exactly. Bambam said if he hadn't gone by when he did, the whole place could've gone up."

I shake my head in disbelief. "What was he burning?"

Jisoo shrugs. "Bambam didn't say."

Yeah—but I bet it wasn't any of Lisa's stuff going up in flames.

Bastard.

Jisoo goes on. "So Bambam got the pathetic excuse for a man sobered up. At first Lisa didn't want to talk, but Bambam kept at her. And eventually, she spilled like oil in the Gulf."

My stomach clenches, "She... She... told Bambam about the baby?"

Jisoo nods. "Bambam said Lisa told him everything that went down between you two."

Okay. This is a good thing. If Lisa is telling her family I'm pregnant, maybe she's changed her mind. Maybe all she needed was some time to get used to the idea. And Bambam's a great person to talk to in this situation. Not as good as Loren or Rosé, but still—he's pretty levelheaded. At least compared to Lisa.

"What did Bambam say?"

Jisoo grinds her teeth together. "He said he couldn't believe you would do something like this to Lisa."

"What?"

Cue the music.

It's the Twilight Zone.

In the end, I knew Team New York would take Lisa's side—I said they would. But I thought... maybe... they'd defend me. Or at the very least, be pissed off about her methods.

Jisoo puts her hand over mine. "Don't let what Bambam said get to you. It's only natural that he'd back Lisa up—just like I'd help you bury the body, even if it was my own dear mother we were tossing into the ground."

"Jisoo, that's sick."

"Oh, really? You weren't the one who walked into the house and heard her mother knockin' boots with Sheriff Yang!"

My mouth drops open.

Jisoo continues disgustedly, "And they were loud. Like surround-sound, IMAX-theater loud. I'm totally scarred for life."

Let's pause here a moment.

You've never met the good sheriff, so I'll explain. Growing up, Sheriff Yang Hyun Suk was the thorn in our sides, the rock in our shoes, the pain in our asses. He had nothing better to do than follow us around—breaking up our beer bashes, pulling Kai's car over and searching it for weed.

He always thought we were up to something... and... well... he was right.

But that's beside the point.

Even though Sheriff Yang was about the same age as our parents, to us, he always seemed older—like that grumpy neighbor with a cane who never lets you get the baseball that accidentally lands in his yard. Yang was never married and didn't date as far as we knew, so it was always assumed that his wrinkly face and piss-poor attitude came from his extreme inability to get laid.

Amelia Kim is the opposite of Yang Hyun Suk in every way. She's a free spirit. An official card-carrying member of the Healing Power of Crystals Club. A flower child for the modern age.

The very idea of them getting it on is equal parts horrifying and peculiar.

I shudder. "You're right. That is sick."

Kai hops down the stairs. "What's sick?"

Jisoo drops the bomb. "Amelia and Old Man Yang screwing—on the kitchen table."

Kai grimaces. And whines, "Aw, man... I ate on that table this morning."

I turn to him. "Did you know about this?"

"I had my suspicions. But I was hoping I was wrong."

Jisoo agrees, "Weren't we all. I don't know what was worse—having to listen to my mother moaning in ecstasy, or hearing him beg for more and having to visualize what the fuck she was doing to him."

I cover my mouth.

And laugh.

We all do. It starts off small, and then builds—to a table-smacking, eye-tearing, bent-over-at-the-waist crescendo.

"Oh... my... God!"

And even though Jisoo is cackling, she insists, "It's not funny! I think my girl parts are broken. Every time I think about it, my vagina clamps down like a littleneck clam fighting to stay closed."

We howl louder. And it's the first real, genuine laughter I've had since this all began. My cheeks hurt and my sides ache—and it feels wonderful.

You know, sometimes I try and picture what my life would be like if Chu wasn't in it. And then I stop.

Because I just really can't imagine it.