Lisa
When I drop Rosé off, she peers at me through the open window and says, "I know you're mad at me, but I have your best interest at heart."
With my mouth set in a grim line, I nod. "It's fine, Rosé."
"What are you going to do with her?"
What does she think I'm going to do with her? Drop her off at a shelter? Dispose of her in the river? "I'm taking her home and putting her to bed." Not only is Seoul a long drive, but the thought of leaving Jennie alone, while she's in this state, unsettles me.
Rosé sighs. She's exhausted, I can tell, and with one quick sweep forward she kisses me on the cheek and retreats, mumbling, "Thank you, Lisa," as she goes.
I have no music on in the car. It's just me and Jennie, the lingering silence, and my chaotic thoughts. I don't know what to make of this situation - of Jennie meeting my family without my knowledge. It's something out of my comfort zone, and why either girl took the initiative is beyond me.
I recall our conversation last night, over the phone, when she referred to herself as my girlfriend. I haven't had a girlfriend since the fourth grade, and even then our relationship consisted of nothing more than holding hands and sharing my Snack Pack at school. To hear Jennie voice it aloud was surprising. Discomforting, even.
Jennie's a beautiful woman. She's smart, career-orientated, funny, and witty. And Lord knows she keeps me on my toes, never allowing a dull moment to creep near. If I were to ever settle down with a woman, I'd want her to be like Jennie. And maybe one day it will happen-perhaps one day I'll feel the urge to settle.
Jennie begins stirring next to me, capturing my attention. When I look over she's peering back at me with sleepy eyes.
"What are you doing here?" she asks me. Her voice comes out raw and rough.
"Taking you home," I answer.
"Hope I didn't interrupt your date," she says spitefully. She rests her head back against the seat and closes her eyes.
Holy shit. Even wasted and nearly unconscious she still manages to be a smart ass. I smile despite every inclination that screams to be offended.
"If you mean my date with Law and Order, then yes, I'm sorry to say you did interrupt," I reply.
She's silent; I wonder if she's fallen asleep, but after a moment she yawns and rolls awkwardly to her side, straining against the seatbelt, and faces the door. "Whatever," she grumbles. I can tell she's not buying a thing I say, even though it's the truth. I wonder what Rosé told her tonight.
A few minutes later we reach my house. Jennie proves to be awake when she hastily stumbles out of the car, muttering under her breath as she totters unsteadily on her heels. I rush around to her side to help her.
"I thought you were taking me home," she complains.
"This is home. My home."
"I'm not sleeping with you."
I'm a little taken aback by her statement. "I have a guest bedroom," I say indignantly.
"Fine."
I help her into the house, up the stairs and towards the bedroom. She stops me, however, by claiming she wants to brush her teeth, so I direct her to the bathroom instead and present her with a new toothbrush. In the meantime, I escape to my room to change, figuring I'll go to sleep as soon as she's tucked in. I give her a while, but she never exits the bathroom; the light is still on, pooling at the space beneath the door, and silence hangs all around. I eventually knock.
"Jennie? Are you okay?"
Silence.
"Jennie?"
Nothing. I grow slightly anxious.
"I'm coming in," I call loudly, and, while sending a silent prayer that she's not in the middle of taking care of any business, I push the door open. I immediately spot her sitting on the toilet, yet notice that the lid is closed. She's sleepily rubbing her face with her hands... obviously, she's still awake. For a moment I feared she had conked out on the floor. Is she just ignoring me?
I enter the bathroom, leaving the door parted behind me. "Jennie? Are you okay?"
She looks up at me. Her face is pale, yet her cheeks are flushed and pink. Her eyes are narrowed from exhaustion and lack of sobriety, it seems. She looks a right mess.
And still, she ignores me.
"Jennie..." I begin again, but suddenly she interrupts.
"You never answered my question."
I'm surprised and... confused. "What question?" I ask.
"You know."
"No, Jennie, I don't," I say truthfully. I can't for the life of me think of what she means.
"Why don't you like me?"
Ah, yes... that question. But why in the world does she think I don't like her? Is this why she's been hostile towards me all night?
"What makes you think I don't like you?"
My question appears to make her angry. "Because you're sucking my boobies one day and meeting up with this... this... skank... the next."
Goddamn it. All I do is dig myself deeper and deeper. I don't want to hurt Jennie, yet I've agreed to something that seems to do just that no matter which direction I take. I realize meeting with Irene during all of this probably wasn't the wisest idea. Jennie is helping me realize that my judgment is pure shit... but what to do? I could tell her I don't like her and send her packing tomorrow, never to see her again. I could complete the bet and hurt her that way... or I could tell her about the bet and hurt her that way. Either way, it's an endless charade of Jennie being hurt while I stand to the side sporting my douche card. There is no easy option.
While meeting with Kai, in my drunken state, I had mistakenly thought this whole thing would be easier. I'd never thought the girl to which he was referring would be like... Jennie. How the fuck did a girl like Jennie end up with a guy like him, anyway? And she stuck around for three months? I shouldn't have made the bet concerning any girl, no matter their personality. My mother would probably roll over in her grave if she knew. Yet at the time I was drunk, provoked, and anxious for any way to help my sister.
She obviously knows of my plans with Irene - I have Rosé to thank for that, no doubt - and I feel there's no point in lying about it now. "I don't know, Jennie," I say quietly. I lean against the sink, feeling all kinds of shitty. "I don't know why I did that." I run a hand through my hair, wishing I could tug it the fuck out and create some kind of distraction for myself. I feel mentally exhausted.
Jennie remains silent. Her elbows are propped on her knees and she stares at her hands contemplatively.
