JENNIE

My bare feet splash along the concrete, and my clothes are soaked by the time I make it to the Porters' house. I don't know the time—I couldn't even guess the hour—but I'm grateful that the lights in the foyer are on.

Relief washes over me like the cool rain when Kai's mother answers my knocking at the door.

"Jennie? My dear! Are you okay?" She rushes me inside, and I cringe at the sound of the water rolling off me and onto their clean hardwood flooring.

"I'm sorry, I just . . ." As I stare around the expansive and practically spotless living room, I instantly regret coming here.

Lisa wouldn't want to see me anyway—what was I thinking? She isn't mine to rush to anymore—she isn't the woman I thought she was.

My Lisa disappeared in Thailand, that place of all my fairy tales, and a stranger took her place and ruined us. My Lisa would never get high and touch another woman, let another woman wear her clothes. My Lisa wouldn't mock me in front of her friends and send me packing back to America, tossing me away like I was nothing. I am nothing—to her, anyway. The more offenses that I list, the more foolish I sound inside my own mind. The truth of the matter is, the only Lisa I knew has done all of the above, over and over again, and even now, when I'm the only one in on the conversation, I'm still defending her.

How pathetic am I.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Porter. I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry," I frantically apologize. "Please don't tell anyone I was here." And like the

unstable person I've become, I rush back into the rain before she can stop me. By the time I stop running, I'm near the post office. I always hated this corner as a child. The small, brick post office rests alone in the very back of the town. Not a single other house or business is near, and at times like this, when it's dark and raining, my eyes play tricks on me, and the small building blends into the trees. I always ran past it as a child.

My adrenaline has worn off now, and my feet are aching from repeatedly smacking the concrete. I don't know what I was thinking, coming this far into town. I wasn't thinking, I suppose.

My already questionable sanity is at play again as a shadow emerges from underneath the awning of the post office. I begin to back away, slowly, just in case I'm not imagining things.

"Jennie? What the fuck are you doing?" the shadow says in what sounds like Lisa's voice.

I turn on my heel to run, but she's quicker than me. Her arms wrap around my waist, and she pulls me to her chest before I can take off. A large hand forces me to look up at her, and I try to keep my eyes open and focused, despite the heavy drops of rain clouding my vision.

"Why the hell are you out here in the rain, alone?" Lisa scolds through the noise of the storm.

I don't know how to feel. I want to take Lisa's advice and just feel however I want to—but it's not that simple. I can't betray the tiny scrap of strength left inside me. If I allow myself to feel the overwhelming relief of Lisa's hand on my cheek, I will be letting myself down.

"Answer me. Has something happened?"

"No." I shake my head, lying. I step back from her and try to regain my breathing. "Why are you here this late, out in the middle of nowhere? I thought you were at the Porters'." For a minute I panic, thinking that Mrs. Porter somehow told her about my embarrassing and desperate lapse in judgment.

"No, I left there about an hour ago. I'm waiting for a cab. The asshole was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago." Lisa's clothes are saturated, her hair is drenched, and her hand is shaking against my skin.

"Tell me why you are out here, barely dressed and barefoot."

I can tell she's making a conscious effort to stay calm, but her mask isn't intact the way she believes it to be. Clear as day, I can see the panic behind the brown of her eyes. Even in the dark, I can see the storm brewing behind them. She knows; she always seems to just know everything.

"It's nothing. Not a big deal." I take a step away from her, but she isn't having it. She steps toward me, even closer than before. She's never been anything less than demanding.

Headlights break through the veil of rain, and my heart begins to pound inside my chest when the shape of a truck comes into view. My brain catches up to my heart, and I realize I know that truck.

When it stops, Rosé jumps out and rushes toward me, leaving her truck running. Lisa steps between us, silently warning her not to come any closer. Yet another scene that I've become too accustomed to and would rather not see again. Every aspect of my life seems to be a cycle, a vicious one, one that takes a piece of me with it each time that history repeats itself.

Lisa's voice is loud and clear, even through the rain: "What did you do?"

"What did she tell you?" Rosé counters.

Lisa steps closer to her. "Everything," Lisa lies.

I struggle to make out the expression on Rosé's face. It's impossible to see clearly, even with the help of her headlights shining on us.

"She told you that she kissed me then?" Rosé sneers, her voice an awful mixture of malice and satisfaction.

Before I can defend myself against Rosé's lies, another set of headlights breaks through the night and joins the chaos.

"She what?" Lisa shouts.

Her body is still turned toward Rosé, and the taxi's headlights shine across the space, giving me a glimpse of the smug grin spread wide across Rosé's face. How could she lie to Lisa like that about me? Will Lisa believe her? More important, does it matter if she does or not?

Does any of this actually matter?

"This is about Sam, isn't it?" Lisa asks before Rosé can respond.

"No, it's not!" Rosé wipes her hand across her face, pushing water away.

Lisa points a damning finger at her. "Yes, it is! I knew it! I fucking knew you were going after Jennie because of that whore!"

"She wasn't a whore! And this isn't only about her—I care about Jennie Just the way I did Samantha, and you had to fuck it up! You always have to come in and fuck everything up for me!" Rosé screams.

Lisa takes a step closer to her, but says to me, "Get in the cab, Jennie."

I stand in place, ignoring her. Who is Samantha? The name sounds slightly familiar, but I can't place it.

"Jennie, get in the cab and wait for me. Please," Lisa says though clenched teeth. Her patience is running thin, and by the look on Rosé's face, her has already evaporated.

"Please don't fight her, Lisa. Not again," I beg. I am sick of the fighting. I don't think I can take watching another violent scene after finding my father's body lifeless and cold.

"Jennie—" she begins, but I interrupt.

The last bit of my sanity has officially disappeared as I beg Lisa to leave with me, "Please, this week has been so terrible, and I can't watch it. Please, Lisa. Just get in the cab with me. Take me away from here, please."