JENNIE

Kimberly is waiting in the kitchen for me when I arrive home from school. Two wineglasses, one full, one empty, sit in front of her, letting me know that she took my silence as confirmation that I, in fact, didn't know about Lisa's plan to fly to Thailand.

She offers me a sympathetic smile when I drop my bag on the floor and sit on the stool next to her. "Hey, girl."

I swing my head dramatically to face her. "Hey."

"You didn't know?" Her blond hair is expertly curled today, resting perfectly on her shoulders. Her black, bow-shaped earrings glitter under the bright lighting.

"Nope. Didn't tell me." I sigh, reaching for the full glass of wine in front of her.

She laughs and grabs the bottle to fill the empty glass that was originally intended for me. "Christian said Lisa hasn't given Chit a definite answer yet. I shouldn't have said anything until I knew, but I had a feeling she wouldn't have mentioned the wedding to you."

I quickly swallow the white wine in my mouth before I spit it out. "Wedding?" I hurry to take another sip before I have to speak again. A wild thought shoots through me . . . that Lisa's going back to get married. Like an arranged marriage; they do those in Thailand, don't they?

No, I know they don't. But the horrible thought electrifies me while I wait for Kimberly's next words. Am I drunk already?

"Her mom's getting married. She called Christian this morning to invite us."

I quickly look down at the dark granite. "That's news to me."

Lisa's mother is getting married in two weeks, yet she didn't mention it to me at all. Then I remember . . . when she was being weird earlier.

"That's why she was calling so much!"

Kimberly looks at me with wide, questioning eyes as she takes a sip of her wine.

"What should I do?" I ask her. "Just pretend that I don't know? Lisa and I have been communicating so much better lately . . ." I trail off. I know that it's only been a week of improvement, but it's been one amazing week for me. I feel like we've made more progress in the last seven or so days than we have in the last seven months. Lisa and I both have been talking through issues that previously would have turned into massive fights, yet here I am being transported back in time to when she kept things from me.

I always find out. Doesn't she know this by now?

"Do you want to go?" she asks.

"I couldn't, even if I were invited." I rest my cheek against my hand.

Kimberly moves her stool to the side and grips the edges of mine to turn it to face her. "I asked if you want to go," she corrects me, a hint of wine on her breath.

"It would be lovely, but I—"

"Then you should go! I'll bring you as a guest, if I have to. I'm sure Lisa's mom would love you there. Christian says she absolutely adores you."

Despite my mood over Lisa's secrecy, her words thrill me. I absolutely adore Chit.

"I can't go, I don't have a passport," I say. And I could never afford a plane ticket on such short notice.

She waves off my objection. "Those can be expedited."

"I don't know . . ." I say. The butterflies I'm feeling in my belly at the mention of Thailand make me want to rush down the hall to my computer and research how to get a passport—but the unwelcome knowledge of Lisa's purposely keeping the wedding from me forces me to stay in my seat.

"Don't doubt it. Chit would love to have you come along, and Lord knows Lisa could use a push toward commitment." She sips on her wine, leaving a deep red print of her full lips on the rim of the glass.

I'm sure she has her reasons for not telling me. If she's going, she probably doesn't want me to tag along all the way to Thailand. I know her past haunts her, and crazy as it sounds, her demons could easily be stalking the streets of Thailand and find us both.

"Lisa doesn't work that way," I say. "The more I push, the harder she pulls."

"Well then . . ." She moves her red-toed high heel and gently taps her foot against mine. "You need to dig your heels in the damn dirt and not let her pull you anymore."

I seize on her words and save them to analyze later, when I'm not under her watchful gaze. "Lisa doesn't like weddings."

"Everyone likes weddings."

"Not Lisa. She thoroughly hates them and the entire concept of marriage," I tell her and watch with a peculiar amusement as her eyes widen and she carefully places her wineglass back onto the countertop.

"So . . . then, what . . . I mean . . ." She blinks. "I don't even have anything to say, and that's really saying something!" Kimberly bursts out laughing.

I can't help but laugh along. "Yeah, tell me about it."

Kimberly's laugh is contagious, regardless of my mood, and I love that about her. Certainly, she can be excessively nosy at times, and I don't always feel comfortable with the way she speaks about Lisa, but her openness and honesty happen to be the things I love the most about her. She tells it like it is, and she's very easy to read. There's not a layer of guile there, unlike so many people I've met of late.

"So you'll what? Just date forever?" she asks.

"I said the same thing." I can't help but giggle. Maybe it's the glass of wine I finished, or the fact that Lisa's refusal of any type of permanent commitment had slipped my mind in the last week . . . I don't know, but it feels good to laugh with Kim.

"What about your children? You don't mind having them out of wedlock?"

"Children!" I laugh again. "She doesn't want any children."

"This just keeps getting better and better." She rolls her eyes and picks up her glass to finish it off.

"She says that now, but I'm hoping . . ." I don't finish the wish. It's too desperate sounding when said out loud.

Kimberly winks. "Ahh—gotcha," she says knowingly, and I'm thankful when she changes the subject to this redhead in the office, Carine, who has a crush on Taehyung. And when she describes a hypothetical sexual encounter between the two of them as being like watching lobsters awkwardly bumping into each other, I start laughing all over again.

BY THE TIME I get to my room, it's past nine o'clock. I purposely powered off my cell phone so that I could have a few uninterrupted hours with Kimberly. I told her about Lisa's plan to come to Seattle on Wednesday instead of Friday, and she laughed, telling me she knew she wouldn't stay gone long.

My hair is still damp from a shower, and I've been taking my time picking out my outfit for work tomorrow. I'm stalling, and I know it. I'm sure that when I turn on my phone, I'll have to deal with Lisa, and confront her, or not, about the wedding. In a perfect world, I'd just casually bring it up, and Lisa would invite me, explaining that she waited to ask because she was trying to think of the right way to convince me to come. But this isn't a perfect world, and I'm growing more anxious by the second. It hurts me to know that whatever Wendy said to her bothered her so much that she's back to keeping things from me. I hate Wendy. I love Lisa so much, and I just want her to see that nothing she, or anyone else, says will ever change that.

Hesitantly, I take my phone out of my bag and power it back on. I have to call my mother back and text Rosé, but I want to talk to Lisa first. The notifications on the top of my small screen appear, and the envelope icon flashes, text message after text message appearing, all from Lisa. Before I read any of them, I just call.

She answers on the first ring. "Jennie, what the hell!"

"Have you tried to call?" I ask timidly, as innocently as I can, trying to keep the mood as calm as possible.

"Have I tried to call? You're joking, right? I've been calling you nonstop for the last three hours," she huffs. "I even called Christian."

"What?" I say, but then, not wanting things to escalate, I follow up quickly with "I was just hanging out with Kim."

"Where?" she immediately demands.

"Here, at the house," I say and begin to fold my dirty clothes and place them in the hamper; I figure I'll do a load of laundry before I go to bed.

"Well, next time you really need . . ." She lets out a groan of frustration, and her voice softens as she begins again: "Maybe next time you could just send me a text or something if you're going to have your phone off." She releases a big breath, then adds, "You know how I get."

I appreciate the change in her tone and the fact that she stopped herself from saying whatever it was she had originally planned to say, which I'd rather not find out. Unfortunately, the small buzz I got from the wine has mostly disappeared, and the revelation of Lisa's plans to go to Thailand rests heavily on my chest.

"How was your day today?" I ask her, hoping that if I give her an opportunity to bring the wedding up, she will.

She sighs. "It was . . . well, long."

"Mine, too." I don't know what to say to her without coming out and asking point-blank. "Rosé texted me today."

"Did she?" Lisa's voice is calm, but I can detect a note of harshness that would usually intimidate me.

"Yeah, this afternoon. She says she's coming to Seattle on Thursday."

"And what did you say back to her?"

"Nothing yet."

"Why are you telling me this?" Lisa asks.

"Because, I want us to be open with one another. No more secrets, no more hiding things." I emphasize the last part of the sentence, hoping it will elicit the truth from her.

"Well . . . thanks for telling me. I appreciate it," she says. And then says nothing more.

Seriously?

"Yeah, so . . . is there anything you want to tell me?" I ask, still clinging to the dwindling hope that she'll reciprocate my honesty.

"Um, I talked to my dad today."

"Really? About what?" Thank goodness, I knew she would come around.

"Transferring to the Seattle campus."

"Really!" The word comes out sounding more like a squeal than I intended, and Lisa's deep laugh resonates through the line.

"Yeah, but he says it will postpone my graduation, so it wouldn't make sense to move, this late in the semester."

"Oh." I feel myself pouting. I hesitate a moment before asking, "But after graduation?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Yeah sure? That's it? That easy?" The smile that overcomes me crowds out everything else. I wish she were here; I'd grab her by her T-shirt and kiss her, hard.

Then she says, "I mean, why stall the inevitable?"

My smile fades. "You're speaking like moving to Seattle is a jail sentence."

She stays quiet.

"Lisa?"

"I don't think of it like that. I'm just annoyed by the whole thing—all this time has been wasted, and it frustrates me."

"I get that," I say. Her words aren't elegant, but they mean she's missing me. My head is still spinning from her agreeing to finally move to Seattle to be with me. We've been battling over this issue for months, and she's suddenly given in without so much as a final fight. "So, Seattle it is, then? Are you sure?" I have to ask again.

"Yeah. I'm ready to start fresh somewhere, may as well be Seattle."

I hug my arms around my body in excitement. "No Thailand, then?" I give her one last chance to bring up the wedding.

"Nope. No Thailand."

I've already won the Great Battle of Seattle, so when the niggling irritation about the wedding flares up again, I don't push my girl any further tonight. Whatever's going on with that, I'm going to get what I want: Lisa in Seattle, with me.