ephemeral | Jenlisa [COMPLETED]

Chapter 2

"I do agree, um, of course, that it's difficult to make projections in terms of budget when you are factoring in urbanization a-and what it means – wait. What it takes, right, to expect from your growing population's needs –"

Jennie's voice rang out through the large conference hall, stumbling over her words for what might have been the twelfth time in the last ten minutes.

Lisa watched her from her perch in the back, sympathy for Jennie – who was so, so red in the face – welling up strongly inside of her, as she couldn't help but cringe, softly. Thankfully, the presentation was almost over. Because, frankly, Lisa wasn't really sure Jennie's shoulders could take much more of this. Rigid with tension during the first ten minutes, she had managed to relax a little bit, it seemed, once she'd settled into a groove.

But it all had gone downhill in the last fifteen minutes after someone in the front interrupted Jennie to contradict something she'd been saying about certain allocations of particular funds – of all the fucking things. It had led to a conversation between multiple people in the audience, with Jennie and her presentation falling to the wayside for a couple of minutes as she'd floundered to gain attention back to herself. Which she'd managed to do by snapping minutes later, looking both flustered and frustrated.

It was clear that the entire altercation had clearly thrown Jennie back into the headspace she'd been in earlier at the bar.

Because Lisa knew that Jennie knew this backwards and forwards. And she really did have to give Jennie credit; it wasn't boring. Well, definitely not as boring as a presentation about budgeting should be. Lisa would know; she'd attended innumerable different conferences over the years. For no other purpose than the fact that she genuinely did just enjoy learning. She was incredibly familiar with a vast variety of presenters. The good, the bad, the boring.

Lisa took her eyes off of Jennie long enough to take a glimpse around. She didn't doubt Jennie had made a fool of herself, as self-described, earlier in the day; Lisa had plenty of memories from back in her childhood around Jennie being a little awkward.

But it had always been so endearing to her.

The interruption earlier had completely thrown the focus of the audience as well. Over half were watching Jennie still, but there were a good deal far too many checking their watches and on their phones.

She scowled at them.

Lisa's eyes lingered on the man sitting four seats down from her. They were two of the only people in the back row, and she recognized him as the one who'd interrupted herself and Jennie earlier, outside.

Lisa had certainly noticed how interested he'd been in the presentation, though. And in Jennie herself.

Entertained by the thought, she shook her head. That man was barking up the wrong, gay tree.

"Uh, that's, that's all. Thank you for coming." Jennie finished, her voice stiff and even from the back of the room, Lisa could see the redness in her cheeks and the angry, hard set of her jaw.

Clapping broke out in the room, with Lisa leaning forward to join in. And to join in a little harder than others, because, honestly, the collective sound felt far too half-assed to her ear.

With that thought, she brought her fingers up to her mouth and whistled loudly enough to be heard over the clapping.

Jennie's head snapped up and her ever-so-intense feline eyes immediately connected with hers in the back of the room. Even with the distance, Lisa could see the surprised confusion in them.

And she could just make out the little line between her eyebrows, the one she'd pointed out that happened when Jennie scowled.

When she scowled, frowned, looked confused or surprised – that little line was there. Like it was the signal that Jennie was turning something over in her mind. When she'd been younger, Lisa had always found it absurdly adorable and amusing, in equal measure. Such a serious person.