JENNIE
As Lisa and I walk back into the apartment, it feels like the air has become stale and awkward.
"Are you okay?" Jisoo asks when Lisa closes the door behind her.
"Yeah," I state simply, lying.
I'm confused, hurt, angry, and exhausted. It's only been a few hours since we arrived, and already I'm ready to go back to Seattle. Any thought I had of wanting to live here again vanished somewhere during the silent walk from the elevator to the apartment door.
"Jendeukie . . . I didn't mean for any of this to happen," my father says as he follows me into the kitchen. I need a glass of water; my head is throbbing.
"I don't want to talk about it." The sink creaks when I pull at the faucet, and I wait patiently for the glass to fill.
"I think we should at least talk—"
"Please . . ." I turn to face him. I don't want to talk. I don't want to hear the hideous truth, or some well-intentioned lie. I only want to go back to when I was cautiously excited about trying out a relationship with my father that I never had as a child. I know that Lisa has no reason to lie about my father's addictions, but perhaps she's somehow mistaken.
"Jendeukie . . ." my father pleads.
"She said she doesn't want to talk about it," Lisa insists, suddenly appearing in the room. She walks farther into the kitchen and stands between my father and me. I'm thankful for her intrusion this time, but I'm slightly worried over the quick movements of her chest as her breaths become more shallow and labored. I'm grateful when my father sighs in defeat and leaves me alone with Lisa in the kitchen.
"Thank you." I sag against the counter and take another drink of the lukewarm tap water.
A worried line forms along Lisa's forehead, and she doesn't attempt to hide her deep scowl. Her fingers press against her temples, and she leans against the opposite counter. "I shouldn't have let you come here; I knew this would happen."
"I'm fine."
"You always say that."
"Because I always have to be. Otherwise, when the next disaster occurs, I won't be prepared." The adrenaline coursing through me only minutes ago has disappeared, evaporated along with the hope that for once, something could go right for an entire weekend. I don't regret coming here, because I've missed Jisoo so much and I wanted to pick up my letter, e-reader, and bracelet. My heart still aches over the letter; it doesn't seem rational for an object to hold such significance to me, but it does. It was the first time Lisa had ever been so open with me—no more hiding, no more secrets about her past, all of her cards were on the table—and I didn't have to force the confessions from her. The thought that she put into writing it and the way her hands shook as she held it out to me will always remain in my mind. I'm not upset with her, really; I wish she hadn't destroyed it, but I know her temper, and I'm the one who left it here, somehow sensing that she probably would destroy it. I won't allow myself to dwell on it anymore, though it still hurts to think about the shred of paper that was left; that small piece could never hold all of the emotion packed into the words she had scribbled across the page.
"I hate that it's like that for you," Lisa quietly says.
"Me, too." I sigh in agreement. The pained look on her face makes me add, "It's not your fault."
"Like hell it isn't." Exasperated fingers push through the wave of her hair. "I'm the one who ripped up that damn letter, I drove you here, and I thought I could keep your father's habits from you. I thought that asshole Chad was gone for good when I gave him my watch for the money your dad owed."
I stare at Lisa, who's always so wound up, and I want to hug her. She gave away something of her; regardless of her claims to have no attachment to the object, she gave it up in an attempt to dig my father out of the hole he created for himself. God, I love her.
"I'm very grateful to have you," I tell her. Her shoulders straighten, and her head quickly lifts to look at me.
"I don't know why. I create nearly every disaster in your life."
"No, I'm equally to blame," I assure her. I wish she thought more of herself; if only she could see herself the way that I do. "The indifference of the universe does a lot, too."
"You're lying"—she stares at me with expectant eyes—"but I'll take it."
I stare at the wall in silence, my brain running over a thousand thoughts per minute.
"I'm still angry that you ran after him like a fucking madman, though," Lisa scolds me. I don't blame her; it wasn't smart. But I also somehow knew she'd run after me in my ridiculous attempt to chase Chad down and take the watch back from him. What the heck was I thinking?
I was thinking that the watch represented the beginning of a new relationship between Lisa and her father. Lisa said she hated that watch, and she refused to wear it, claiming it was outrageous. She's unaware of the times I passed the bedroom to see her staring at it in its box. Once she even had the watch resting in her open palm, examining it closely, as if it might burn or heal her. Her expression was ambivalent when she tossed it carelessly back into the oversize black box.
"My adrenaline got the best of me." I shrug, trying to hide the gentle tremor shaking through me at the thought of actually catching up to the hideous man.
I had a bad feeling about him the first time he came to pick my father up from the apartment, but I was unaware of the possibility that he'd return. Out of all the suspicions I held relating to what exactly was happening here, slimy men selling drugs and being paid in watches was never a thought. This obviously was what Lisa referred to as "taking care of it without me having to worry about it." If I had just kept my behind in the apartment, I could still be blissfully ignorant of the entire situation. I could still see my father in a decent light.
"Well, I don't care much for your adrenaline, then. It obviously cuts off the oxygen to your damn brain," Lisa huffs, glaring at the refrigerator beside me.
"Should we start the next movie?" My father's voice sounds from the living room. I shoot a sudden panicked look toward Lisa, and she opens her mouth to answer for me.
"In a minute," she replies, her tone harsh.
Lisa looks down at me, her height and irritated expression overpowering me. "You don't have to go out there and fake some bullshit conversation with them if you don't want to. I'd dare either of them to say shit to you about it."
The idea of watching a movie with my father does not sound the least bit appealing, but I don't want things to be awkward, and I don't want Jisoo to go just yet.
"I know." I sigh.
"You're in denial, and I get that, but you're going to need to face the music sooner or later." Her words are harsh, but her eyes are sympathetic as she gazes down at me. I feel the heat of her fingers trail down the back of both of my arms.
"I'll take later—for now," I plead with her, and she nods, not approving but accepting my denial. For now.
"Go on and go in there, then. I'll be in in a minute." She tilts her head toward the living room.
"Okay; can you make some popcorn?" I smile up at her, trying my best to convince her that my heart isn't hammering against my rib cage and my palms aren't sweating.
"You're pushing it . . ." A playful smile tugs at the corners of her mouth while she pushes me out of the kitchen. "Go on."
When I enter the dimly lit living room, my father is sitting in his usual spot on the couch and Jisoo is standing, leaning against the dark brick wall. My father's hands are on his lap; he's picking at the skin on his fingertips, a habit I had as a child until my mother forced me to give it up. Now I know where it came from.
My father lifts dark eyes from his lap to peer up at me, and a chill runs over me. I can't decipher whether it's the lighting or my mind playing tricks on me, but his eyes are nearly black, and it's making me nauseous. Is he really taking drugs? If so, how much and what kind? My knowledge of drugs consists of having watched a few episodes of Intervention with Lisa. I cringed and covered my eyes when the addicts would push the needles into their skin or smoke the frothy liquid off of a spoon. I could barely stand to watch them destroy themselves and everyone around them, while Lisa went on about not feeling an ounce of pity for the "fucking junkies."
Is my father really one of them?
"I'll understand if you want me to go . . ." My father's voice doesn't match the look in his haunted eyes. It's small, weak, and broken. My chest aches.
"No, it's okay." I swallow and sit down on the floor to wait for Lisa to join us. I hear the quiet popping of the kernels, and the aroma of popping corn has already filled the apartment.
"I'll tell you anything you want to—"
"It's okay, really," I assure my father with a smile. Where is Lisa?
My silent question is answered only moments later when she strides into the living room, a bag of popcorn in one hand and my glass of water in the other. She sits down next to me on the floor without a word and places the bag on my lap.
"It's a little burned, but still edible," she quietly remarks. Her eyes move straight to the television screen, and I know she's holding back many thoughts. I squeeze her hand to thank her for keeping them that way. I don't think I'd be able to handle anything else tonight.
The popcorn is delicious and buttery. Lisa gripes when I offer Jisoo and my father some. I suspect that's why they refuse it.
"What bullshit are we watching now?" Lisa asks.
"Sleepless in Seattle," I answer with a grin.
Her eyes roll. "Really? Isn't that like an older version of what we just watched!"
I can't help but be amused. "It's a lovely movie."
"Sure." She looks at me, but her eyes don't stay on mine as long as usual. She uses her sweatshirt to wipe the greasy butter off her fingers. I cringe and make a mental note to soak the shirt longer than usual tomorrow before I wash it.
"Is something wrong? This movie isn't that bad," I whisper to her. My father is finishing off the remainder of the pizza, and Jisoo has taken her seat back on the recliner.
"No." She still doesn't look at me. I don't want to comment on her odd behavior; everyone's already on edge from tonight's events.
The movie distracts me from myself and my vicious mind long enough to laugh with Jisoo and my father. Lisa stares at the screen, her shoulders stiff again and her mind miles away. I desperately want to ask her what's wrong so that I can fix it, but I know that it's best to leave her be for now. Instead, I snuggle against her chest with my knees bent beneath me and one arm wrapped around her lean torso. She surprises me by pulling me closer and planting a soft kiss on my hair.
"I love you," she whispers. I'm nearly convinced that I'm hearing voices until I look up into her expectant green eyes.
"I love you," I reply softly. I take a few moments to stare at her, just to take in how beautiful she is. She drives me insane, as I do her, but she loves me, and her calm behavior tonight is just another indication of that. No matter how forced the behavior is, she is trying, and in that I find solace, a steady certainty that even in the middle of the brewing storm, she will be my anchor. I once feared that she would take me under; now I don't even mind if she does.
A heavy knock at the door jolts me from Lisa's lap. I've somehow migrated there in my near slumber, and she unwraps her arms from around me and gently places me on the floor so she can stand up. I study her face, looking for anger, or shock, but instead she looks . . . worried?
"You're not moving," she says to me. I nod in agreement. I don't want to face Chad again.
"We should just call the police, otherwise he'll never stop coming here." I groan, wondering how this apartment could have changed so drastically in the last few weeks. The panic rises into my chest again, and when I look up to gauge my father and Jisoo's reactions to the intruder, I see that they're both asleep. The television is set on the menu screen for the pay-per-view; we must have all actually drifted off to sleep without realizing it.
"No," I hear Lisa say. I rise onto my knees when she reaches the door. What If Chad isn't alone? Will he try to hurt Lisa? I stand up and head toward the couch to wake my father.
I barely register the heavy click of high heels across the hard flooring, so when I turn my head and see my mother, in all her tight-red-dress, curled-hair, and red-lipsticked glory, I'm shocked. Her beautiful face is set in a deep scowl as her darkening eyes meet mine.
"What are you—" I begin. I glance at Lisa; and she's calm . . . expectant almost . . .
She allows her to storm past him and stalk toward me.
"You called her?" My voice squeaks as the puzzle pieces click into place. She looks away from me. How could she call her? She knows firsthand how my mother is; why on earth would she bring her into this?
"You have been avoiding my calls, Jennie Ruby Jane," she snaps. "And now I find out that your father is here! At this apartment, and he's on drugs!" She storms past me, too, and goes straight for the kill. Her fire-engine-red manicured fingers grip my father's arm, and she yanks his sleeping body off of the couch. He topples to the floor.
"Get up, Richard!" she booms, and I flinch at the harshness in her voice.
My father scrambles up to a sitting position quickly, using his palms to support his body weight, and shakes his head. His eyes nearly pop out of his skull as he takes in the woman in front of him. I watch as he blinks rapidly and stumbles to his feet.
"Rebecca?" His voice is even smaller than mine.
"How dare you!" She waves a finger in his face, and he backs away from her only to have his legs hit the couch, causing him to fall back. He looks terrified, and I don't blame him.
Jisoo stirs in the chair and opens her eyes; her expression mimics my father's, confused and terrified.
"Jennie Ruby Jane, go to your bedroom," my mother demands.
What? "No, I will not," I counter. Why did Lisa have to call her? Everything would have been okay. I'd have a way to move on from my father, probably.
"She's not a child anymore, Rebecca," my father says.
My mother's cheeks puff, and her chest rises, and I know what's coming next. "Don't you dare speak of her as if you know her at all! As if you have any claim on her!"
"I'm trying to make up for lost time—" My father is holding his ground pretty decently for a man who has just been awoken by his angry ex-wife screaming in his face. I don't know what to make of the scene unfolding in front of me. There's something in my father's voice, something in his tone as he steps closer to my mother, gaining confidence that almost looks familiar. I can't quite put my finger on it.
"Lost time! You don't get to make up for lost time! Now I hear you're taking drugs?"
"I'm not anymore!" he yells back at her. I want to cower behind Lisa, but right now I don't know whose side she's actually on. Jisoo's eyes are focused on me, Lisa's on my father and mother.
"Wanna go?" Jisoo mouths silently from across the room. I shake my head, silently declining, but hoping that my eyes can convey how thankful I am for her offer.
"Anymore? Anymore!" My mother must have worn her heaviest heels. I'm beginning to wonder if they'll leave dents in the floor as she stomps across it.
"Yes, anymore! Look, I'm not perfect, okay?" His hands move over his short hair, and I freeze. The gesture is so familiar, it's uncanny.
"Not perfect! Ha!" She laughs, her white teeth shining through the dim room. I want to turn a light on but can't bring myself to move. I don't know how to feel or what to think as I watch my parents scream at each other in the middle of the living room. I'm convinced this apartment is cursed; it has to be. "Not perfect is fine; doing drugs and dragging your daughter down the same path is deplorable!"
"I'm not dragging her down any path! I'm trying my hardest to make up for what I did to her . . . and to you!"
"No! You're not! Your coming back around will only confuse her more! She's already messed her life up enough!"
"She hasn't messed up her life," Lisa interrupts. My mother shoots her a fiery glare before turning her attention back to my father.
"This is your fault, Richard Kim! All of this! If it weren't for you, Jennie Ruby Jane wouldn't be in this toxic relationship with this girl!" She waves her hand toward Lisa. I knew it would only be a matter of time before she started in on her. "She never had example to show her how a woman should be treated; that's why she's shacked up here with her! Unmarried, living in sin, and Lord only knows what she's doing! She's probably taking the drugs with you!"
I recoil, my blood instantly boils, and the raging need to defend Lisa surfaces. "Don't you dare bring Lisa into this! She's been taking care of my father and providing him with somewhere to live to keep him off of the streets!" I hate the way my choice of words resembles my mother's.
Lisa crosses the room and stands beside me. I know she's going to warn me to stay out of it.
"It's true, Rebecca. She's a good woman, and she loves her more than I've ever seen someone love a woman," my father chimes in. My mother's fists ball at her sides, and her perfectly blushed cheeks flare a deep red.
"Don't you dare defend her! All of this—she waves one clenched fist through the thick air—"is because of her! She should be in Seattle, creating a life for herself, finding herself a suitable man . . ."
I can barely hear anything over the blood rushing and pumping through my head. In the midst of all of this, I feel terrible for Jisoo, who has kindly retreated to the bedroom to leave us alone, and for Lisa, who is, yet again, being used as my mother's scapegoat.
"She is living in Seattle, she's here visiting her father. I told you that on the phone." Lisa's voice breaks through the chaos; it's barely controlled, and it sends a shiver over my body, raising the small hairs on my arms.
"Don't think that just because you called me we're suddenly friends," she snaps. Lisa jerks me back by my arm, and I glare up at her, puzzled. I hadn't even realized that I started toward her until she stopped me.
"Judgmental as always. You'll never change, you're still the same woman you were all those years ago." My father shakes his head in disapproval. I'm thankful that he's on Lisa's side.
"Judgmental? Are you aware that this girl, the one you're defending, weaseled her way between your daughter's legs to win money in a bet she made with her friends?" My mother's voice is cold—smug, even.
All of the air leaves the room, and I'm choking, gasping for a simple breath.
"That's right! She was bragging around campus about her conquest. So don't you defend her to me," she hisses. My father's eyes are wide. I can see the stormy currents gathering behind them as he looks at Lisa.
"What? Is this true?" My father is choking for breath, too.
"It's not important! We've already passed it," I tell him.
"See, she went and found herself someone exactly like you. Let us pray that she doesn't get her pregnant and leave when times get tough."
I can't listen anymore. I can't let Lisa be dragged through the mud by both of my parents. This is a disaster.
"And not to mention just three weekends ago, a man dropped her at my house unconscious because of her"—she points to Lisa—"friends! They nearly had their way with her!"
The reminder of that night pains me, but it's the way my mother is blaming Lisa that bothers me the most. What happened that night was in no way Lisa's fault, and she knows it.
"You son of a bitch!" my father says through his teeth.
"Don't," Lisa calmly warns him. I pray that he listens.
"You had me fooled! Here I was thinking you just had a bad rep, some tattoos, and an attitude! I could deal with that. I'm the same way. But you used my daughter!" My father dashes toward Lisa, and I stand in front of her.
My brain hasn't had a chance to catch up with my mouth. "Stop it! Both of you!" I scream. "If you want to go to war over your past, that's your choice, but you won't bring Lisa into it! She called you for a reason, Mother, and yet here you are throwing her under the bus out of anger. This is her place, not either of yours. Both of you can get the hell out!" My eyes burn, as if they're begging me to shed the warm tears, but I refuse.
My mother and father both halt; they look at me, then at each other. "Sort your crap out or leave; we'll be in the bedroom." I wrap my fingers around Lisa's, and I try to pull her behind me.
She hesitates for a moment before using her long legs to step in front of me and lead me down the hallway, still grasping my hand. Her grip is tight, nearly unbearably so, but I stay quiet. I'm still in shock from my mother's arrival and blowup; too much pressure on my hand is the least of my concerns.
I push the door closed behind me just in time to muffle the shouting voices of my parents down the hall. Suddenly I'm nine again, running through the backyard of my mother's house to my haven, the small greenhouse. I could always hear the shouting, no matter how loud Kai attempted to be in order to mute the unpleasant noise.
"I wish you hadn't called her." I break from my memories and look up at Lisa. Jisoo is sitting at the desk, making a point not to stare at us.
"You needed her. You were in denial." Her voice is gravelly.
"She made things worse; she told him about what you did."
"It made sense at the time to call her. I was trying to help you."
The look in her eyes tells me she really thought it might work. "I know," I say with a sigh. I wish she'd run the idea past me first, but I know she was doing what she thought was right.
"Damned if I do, damned if I don't." She shakes her head and plops down on the bed. Looking up at me with real anguish, she says, "We'll always be reminded of that shit—you know that, don't you?"
She's shutting down; I can feel it just as surely as I can see it happening in front of me.
"No, that's not true." There's at least some truth to my words in that once everyone we know finds out about the bet, it'll become old news to them all. I shudder at the thought of Kimberly and Christian finding out, but everyone else around us now knows the humiliating truth.
"Yes, it is! You know it is!" Lisa raises her voice and paces across the floor. "It's never going to go away, every time we fucking turn around, someone is throwing it in your face, reminding you of what a fuckup I am!" Her fist collides with the top of the desk before I can stop her. The wood splinters, and Jisoo jumps to her feet.
"Don't do this! Don't let her get to you, please!" I grab a fistful of her black sweatshirt, stopping her from beginning another assault on the already broken wood. She jerks away, but I don't let up. I grab both sleeves this time, and she turns around, fuming.
"Aren't you tired of this shit? Aren't you tired of the constant fight? If you would just let me go, your life would be much easier!" Lisa's words come out clipped and loud, and each syllable cuts deep. She always does this; she always goes for self-destruction. I won't allow it this time.
"Stop that! You know that I don't want easy and loveless." I gather her face between my hands and force her to look at me.
"Both of you, listen to me," Jisoo interrupts. Lisa doesn't look at her; she keeps her furious gaze on me. My best friend, Lisa's stepsister, walks across the room to stand only feet away from us.
"You guys can't do this again. Lisa, you can't let people get into your head like that; Jennie is the only opinion that matters. Let hers be the only voice in your head," she tells us.
It's as if the black rings around Lisa's eyes visibly shrink as she takes in the words. "And Jen . . ." Jisoo sighs. "You don't need to feel guilty and try to convince Lisa that you want to be with her; you staying around through everything should be proof enough."
Jisoo has a point, but I'm not sure if Lisa will see it through her anger and pain.
"Jennie needs you to comfort her right now. Her parents are screaming at each other in there, so be here for her—don't make this about you," Jisoo tells her stepsister. Something in her words seems to click in Lisa's mind, and she nods, tilting her head down to press her forehead against mine, her harsh breathing slowing with each breath.
"I'm sorry . . ." she whispers.
"I'm going to go home now." Jisoo looks away from us, seemingly uncomfortable with witnessing the intimacy between Lisa and me. "I'll let my mom know you'll be by."
I move away from Lisa to wrap my arms around Jisoo's neck. "Thank you for everything. I'm so glad you were here," I say into her chest. Her arms tightly hug me, and this time Lisa doesn't pull me away. When I step out of the embrace, Jisoo leaves the room, and I look back at Lisa. She's examining her bloody knuckles, a sight that was beginning to turn into a distant memory; now I'm seeing it again as the thick blood drips onto the floor.
"About what Jisoo said," Lisa says, wiping her bloodied hand on the bottom of her sweatshirt. "When she said yours should be the only voice in my head. I want that." When she looks up at me again, her expression is haunted. "I want that so fucking bad. I can't seem to shake them . . . Wendy, Rosé, now your mum and dad."
"We'll figure it out, we will," I promise her.
"Jennie Ruby Jane!" My mother's voice resounds from outside the door. I had been too wrapped up in Lisa to notice that the noise in the living room had dissipated. "Jennie Ruby Jane, I'm coming in."
The door opens on the last word, and I stand behind Lisa. This seems to be a pattern.
"We need to talk about this, all of this." She eyes Lisa and me with equal intensity. Lisa's head turns, and she looks down at me, raising an eyebrow for approval.
"I don't think there's much to discuss," I say from behind my shield.
"There's plenty to discuss. I'm sorry for my behavior tonight. I lost my mind when I saw your father here, after all these years. Please give me a little time to explain. Please." The word "please" sounds foreign coming from my mother's lips.
Lisa steps away, exposing me to her. "I'm going to go clean this up." She lifts her battered hand in the air and exits the room before I can stop her.
"Sit down, we have a lot to discuss." My mother runs her palms down the front of her dress and pushes her thick blond waves to one side before she sits down on the edge of the bed.