JENNIE
Five minutes before five o'clock I try to call Lisa, but she doesn't pick up. Where has she been all day? Was Rosé right when she said that Lisa was out late? It's possible that she's on her way to Seattle and is planning to surprise me, but really, what are the odds of that? My meeting with Rosé has been weighing on my chest since the moment I agreed to it. I know Lisa hates our friendship. She hates it so much that it haunts her in her dreams, and here I am, fueling that hatred.
I don't bother to check my hair or touch up my makeup before taking the elevator down to the lobby, studiously ignoring Kimberly's critical gaze. I probably shouldn't have informed her of my plans. Through the plate-glass windows, Rosé's truck is visible, and is a beautiful sight for me, and I can't ignore the excitement I feel to see a familiar face. I'd rather it be Lisa's, but Rosé's here, and Lisa isn't.
Rosé climbs out of her truck to greet me as soon as I step out of the building. Her smile grows as I walk across the sidewalk. Dressed in black jeans and a gray long-sleeve shirt, she looks as beautiful as ever, and I look like death.
"Hey." She smiles, opening her arms for a hug.
Uncertainty floods through me, but the need to be polite pushes me into her waiting arms.
"It's been a while," she says into my hair.
I nod in agreement and ask, "How was your drive?" as I pull back from the embrace.
She blows out a breath. "Long. But I got to listen to some pretty good music on the way."
She opens the passenger door for me, and I hurry to get inside and out of the cold air. The cab of her truck is warm and smells like her.
"What made you decide to come today instead of tomorrow?" I ask, to begin the conversation as Rosé hesitantly pulls into traffic.
"It was just . . . a change of mind, nothing, really." Her eyes dart back and forth between the rearview and the side mirrors.
"Driving in the city is intimidating," I say to her.
"Yes. Very." She smiles, still focused on the road.
"Do you know where you want to grab dinner? I haven't done much exploring yet, so I don't know where the best spots are."
I check my phone; nothing from Lisa. So I pull up some restaurant options on an app, and after a couple minutes, Rosé and I decide on a small Mongolian Style grill.
I GO WITH the chicken and vegetables and watch in awe as the chef prepares the food in front of us. I've never been to a place like this before, and Rosé finds that amusing. We're seated in the very back of the small restaurant, Rosé sitting across from me, and we're both too quiet for it to be comfortable.
"Is something wrong?" I ask her while picking at my food.
Rosé's eyes are soft and full of worry. "I don't know if I should even bring it up . . . You seem like you've got so much going on already, and I want you to have a nice time."
"I'm fine. Tell me whatever it is that you need to." I brace myself for the unknown blow I'm sure is about to land.
"Lisa came to my place yesterday."
"What?" I can't hide the surprise in my voice. Why would Lisa do that? And if she did, how is it that Rosé is sitting here without any bruises or missing limbs? "What did she want?" I ask.
"To tell me to stay away from you," she promptly answers.
When I mentioned Rosé's text message to Lisa last night, she seemed so indifferent about the situation. "What time?" I ask, hoping it was after we talked about not keeping things from each other.
"Afternoon, around three."
I let out an exasperated breath. Sometimes Lisa has no boundaries, and her list of offenses is growing by the second.
I rub my temples, my appetite having disappeared. "What did she say, exactly?"
"That she didn't care how I did it, or if I hurt your feelings, just that I needed to stay away. She was being so calm, it was kinda freaky." She stabs her fork at a piece of broccoli and pops it into her mouth.
"And you came here anyway?"
"Yes, I did."
The testosterone-fueled battle between the two of them is wearing me out, and I'm on the sidelines, trying to keep the peace but failing. "Why?"
Her golden eyes meet mine. "Because her threats aren't going to work on me anymore. She can't tell me who to be friends with, which is something I hope you feel the same way about."
I'm beyond irritated that Lisa went to Rosé's apartment like that. I'm even more irritated that she didn't say anything to me about it, and that she wanted Rosé to hurt my feelings and end our friendship while keeping her role in the whole exchange hidden.
"I feel the same about Lisa controlling who I'm friends with." As the words leave my mouth, Rosé eyes fill with triumph, which also bothers me. "But, I also think she has good reasons for not wanting us to be friends. Don't you?"
Rosé shakes her head amicably. "Yes and no. I won't hide my feelings for you, but you know that I don't push them onto you. I told you that I'll take what you can give me, and if friendship is all I can get, I'll live with it."
"I know you don't push." I choose to respond only to half of her statement. Rosé never pushes me to do anything, and she never tries to force me into anything, but I hate the way she talks about Lisa.
"Can you say the same for her?" Rosé challenges, looking at me intensely.
The urge to defend Lisa makes me say, "No. I can't. I know how she is, but that's just who she is."
"You're always so quick to defend her. I don't get it."
"You don't have to get it," I say harshly.
"Really?" Rosé says quietly and frowns.
"Yes." I straighten my back and sit up as tall as I can manage.
"It doesn't bother you how possessive she is? She tells you who you can be friends with . . ."
"It does bother me but—"
"You let her do it."
"Did you come all the way to Seattle to remind me that Lisa is controlling?"
Rosé opens her mouth to speak but closes it.
"What?" I push her.
"She has a claim on you, and I'm worried about you. You seem so stressed out."
I sigh in defeat. I am stressed, too stressed, but fighting with Rosé isn't going to help anything. It's only intensifying my frustration. "I'm not going to make excuses for her, but you don't know anything about our relationship. You don't see how she is with me. You don't understand her the way that I do."
I push my plate away and notice that the couple at the next table over has turned their attention on us. Lowering my voice, I say, "I don't want to fight with you, Rosé. I'm exhausted, and I was really looking forward to spending this time with you."
She leans back in her chair. "I'm being such a jerk, aren't I." she says with sad eyes. "I'm sorry, Jennie. I would blame the drive . . . but that's not an excuse. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, I didn't mean to snap at you. I don't know what's gotten into me." My period is due any day now—that must be why I'm so on edge.
"It's my fault, really." She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
Tension still fills the air, and I can't stop thinking of Lisa, but I'd like to have a nice time, so I ask, "How is everything else going?"
Rosé dives into stories about her family and how warm Florida was the last time she visited. The conversation between us reverts to its normal, easy, meandering flow, and the tension evaporates, allowing me to finish my meal.
After we're done eating and are heading to the exit, Rosé asks, "Do you have more plans for the night?"
"Yes, I'm going to Christian's jazz club. It just opened."
"Christian?" Rosé questions.
"Oh, my boss. That's who I'm staying with."
Her brow rises. "You're staying with your boss?"
"Yes, but he went to college with Lisa's father and he's a longtime friend of Marco and Karen," I explain. It hasn't occurred to me that Rosé doesn't know any of the details about my life. Although she picked me up after Christian's surprise engagement party for Kimberly, she doesn't know anything about them.
"Oh, so that's how you got a paid internship, then?"
Ouch. "Yes." I admit.
"Well, it's awesome either way."
"Thanks." I stare out the window and pull my cell phone from my purse. Still nothing. "What else do you plan on doing while you're in Seattle?" I ask in the middle of trying to explain which roads to take to get us to Christian and Kimberly's house. I give up after a few minutes and type the address into my phone. The screen freezes, and the power shuts off twice before the device finally cooperates.
"I'm not sure. I'm going to see what my friends are up to. Maybe we could meet up again later tonight? Or before I leave on Saturday?"
"That could be cool. I'll let you know," I say.
"When will Lisa be here?" The venomous undertone to her question doesn't go unnoticed.
I glance at my phone again, this time out of habit. "I'm not sure, maybe tonight."
"Are you guys together right now? I know we said we wouldn't talk about it anymore, but I'm confused."
"So am I," I admit. "We've been putting some space between us lately."
"Is that working?"
"Yes." Until the last few days when Lisa started to pull away from me.
"That's good, then."
I have to know what thought is running through her mind. I can see it churning behind her eyes. "What?"
"Nothing. You don't want to hear it."
"Yes, I do." I know I'll regret it, but that doesn't stop my curiosity.
"I just don't see any space. You're in Seattle, staying with friends of her family, one of whom is also your boss. Even from miles away, she's controlling you, trying to end the few friendships that you have. And when she's not doing that, she's coming to Seattle to visit. That doesn't seem like much space to me."
I haven't thought about my living arrangement from that perspective until now. Is that another reason why Lisa sabotaged my getting an apartment? So that if I still decided to go to Seattle, I could be under the watchful eyes of her family's friends?
I shake my head to escape the thought. "It's working for us. I know it doesn't make sense to you, but it's working for us. I know—"
"She tried to pay me off to stay away from you," Rosé interjects.
"What?"
"Yeah, she was threatening me, and she told me to make her an offer. She told me to find another 'whore on campus' to toy with."
Whore?
Rosé shrugs nonchalantly. "She said that no one else will ever have you, and she was awfully proud of herself that you stuck around even after she told you about sleeping with Nancy after the two of you started hanging out."
The mention of Lisa and Nancy stings—Rosé knew it would. And that's exactly why she said it.
"We've already dealt with that. I don't want to talk about Lisa and Nancy," I say through gritted teeth.
"I just want you to know what you're dealing with. She's not the same person when you're not around."
"That's not a bad thing," I retort, fighting back. "You don't know her." I'm relieved when we pull onto the access road and into the outskirts of the city, signaling that we're less than five minutes away from Christian's place. The sooner this car ride is over, the better.
"You don't either, not really," she says. "You spend all of your time fighting with her."
"What's your goal here, Rosé?" I ask. I hate the direction our conversation has taken, but I don't know how to bring it back to neutral territory.
"Nothing. I just thought that after all this time and all the shit she puts you through, you'd see the truth."
A thought strikes me. "Did you tell her you were coming here?"
"No."
"You're not fighting fair here," I say, calling her out.
"Neither is she." She sighs, desperately trying to keep her voice down. "Look, I know you'll defend her until you're blue in the face, but you can't blame me for wanting to have what she has. I want to be the one you're defending, I want to be the one that you trust, even though you shouldn't. I'm always there for you when she isn't." She rubs her hand over her cheek and takes another breath. "I'm not fighting fair, but neither is she. She hasn't from the beginning. Sometimes I swear the only reason she's so attached to you is because she knows that I have feelings for you, too."
This is exactly why Rosé and I will never be able to have a friendship. Regardless of her sweetness and understanding, it will never work. She hasn't given up, and I suppose there's honor in that. However, I can't give her what she wants from me, and I don't want to feel like I have to explain my relationship with Lisa every time I see her. She's been there for me, it's true, but only because I allowed her to be.
I say, "I don't know if I have enough left of me to give to you, even as a friend."
Rosé looks over at me with an even expression. "That's because she's drained you."
I stay silent and stare out the window at the pine trees lining the road. I don't like the tension I'm feeling right now, and I'm fighting back some tears when I hear Rosé mutter, "I didn't want tonight to end up this way. Now you'll probably never want to see me again."
I point out the window. "It's this driveway."
An awkward and tense silence fills the cab of the truck until the massive house comes into view. When I look over at her, Rosé is staring wide-eyed at Christian's place.
"This is even bigger than the other house, the one I picked you up from before," she points out, trying to ease the tension.
In an effort to do the same, I begin to tell her about the gym, the spacious kitchen, the way Christian can control what's going on in parts of the house with his iPhone.
And then my heart leaps into my throat.
Lisa's car is parked just behind Kimberly's sleek Audi. Rosé spots it at the same time that I do, but she doesn't appear to be affected by it. I can feel the color draining from my face as I say, "I better get inside."
As we park, Rosé says, "Again, I'm sorry, Jennie. Please don't go inside upset with me. You have enough going on, I shouldn't have made you feel any worse."
She offers to come inside to be sure everything is okay, but I brush it off. I know Lisa will be pissed—beyond pissed—but I'm the one who created this mess, so I need to be held responsible for cleaning it up.
"It's okay," I reassure her with a fake smile and climb out of her truck with a promise to text her when I can.
I'm aware of my slow strides as I walk to the door, but I don't make an effort to move faster. I'm trying to go over what I should say, whether or not I should be angry with Lisa or apologize for seeing Rosé again, when the door opens.
Losa steps out wearing her dark blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Despite the fact that it has only been two days since I last saw her, my pulse quickens and I ache to be closer to her. I've missed her so much in the few days that we've been apart.
Her face is set in stone, and her icy gaze follows Rosé's old truck as it disappears from view. "Lisa, I—"
"Get inside," she scolds me.
"Don't tell—" I begin.
"It's cold; come inside." Lisa's eyes are blazing, and the heat in them keeps me from arguing. She surprises me by gently resting her hand on the small of my back as she leads me inside the house, past where Kimberly and Smith are playing some card game in the living room, and into my bedroom without a word.
Calmly, she closes the door behind her and turns the lock. Then she looks down at me, and my heart nearly bursts when she asks, "Why?"
"Lisa, nothing happened, I swear. She said there was a change of plans, and I was so relieved, because I thought she wasn't coming, but instead she said that she'd arrived a day early and wanted to grab dinner." I shrug, partly to calm myself down. "I didn't know how to say no."
"You never do," she spits, holding my gaze.
"I know you went to her apartment yesterday. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you didn't need to know." Her breathing is harsh, barely controlled.
"You don't get to decide what I need to know," I challenge her. "You can't keep things from me. I know about your mother's wedding, too!" I blurt.
"I knew how you would react." She throws her hands up, trying to defend herself.
I roll my eyes, stomping toward her. "Bullshit."
She doesn't even flinch. The veins in her arms are visible under the rare spots of white skin, soft blue laced with the black ink. Her fists are tightly balled. "One thing at a time."
"I will be friends with who I want to be friends with—and you won't keep going behind my back, acting like a child throwing a damn tempter tantrum," I warn her.
"You said you wouldn't go near her again."
"I know. I didn't get it before, but after spending time with her today, I made my own choice not to be friends with her. It's not because of you."
I can see her flinch in surprise a little at that, but she maintains her dark intensity. "Why's that?"
I look away, a little ashamed. "Because I know she's a trigger for you, and I shouldn't keep pushing you by seeing her. I know how much it would hurt me if you saw Nancy . . . or any other female, for that matter. That being said, you don't get to control my friendships, but I can't lie and say that I wouldn't feel the same way if I were you."
She crosses her arms and breathes out roughly. "Why now? What did she do to make you suddenly change your mind?"
"Nothing. She didn't do anything to me. I just shouldn't have taken this long to get it. We have to be equals—neither of us can hold the power."
I can tell by the glow in her green eyes that she wants to say more, but instead she just nods. "Come here." She opens her arms for me the way she always does, and I'm quick to wrap myself in them.
"How did you know that I was with her?" I press my cheek against her chest. Her minty scent invades my senses, pushing out all thoughts of Rosé.
"Kimberly told me," she says into my hair.
I frown. "She really doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut."
"You weren't going to tell me?" Her thumb presses under my chin and lifts my head up.
"Yes, I was, but I'd rather have told you myself." I suppose that I'm grateful for Kimberly's honesty; it's hypocritical of me to only want her to be honest with me and not with Lisa. "Why didn't you come find us?" I ask. I assumed if she knew that I was with Rosé, that's exactly what she would have done.
"Because," she breathes, staring into my eyes, "you kept going on about the cycle, and I wanted to break it."
My heart swells at her honest and thoughtful answer. She really is trying, and it means so much to me.
"I'm still mad," she adds.
"I know." I touch her cheek with my fingertips, and her arms tighten around me. "I'm pissed, too. You didn't tell me about the wedding, and I want to know why."
"Not tonight," she warns.
"Yes, tonight. You got to say your piece about Rosé, and now it's my turn."
"Jennie . . ." Her lips compress into a hard line.
"Lisa . . ."
"You're infuriating." She releases me and paces across the floor, putting a distance between us that I can't stand.
"So are you!" I fire back, following her movements to get closer to her.
"I don't want to talk about the fucking wedding right now; I'm already livid and barely controlling myself as it is. Don't push me, okay?"
"Fine!" I say loudly, but give in. Not because I'm afraid of what she'll say, but because I just spent two and a half hours with Rosé, and I know Lisa's anger is only serving to mask the anxiety and pain I've caused her by doing so.