Take My Mask, I'm Home

it's about time to come clean and go home

Lisa froze halfway through sitting up in bed. Knowing that it wouldn't change anything, that it wouldn't remove the dread in her heart, Lisa reached out once more and touched Jennie's side of the bed. It was still cold, no matter how she wished it wasn't. Her chest felt tight at the knowledge that Jennie wasn't here anymore.

The blinds were still closed, the lamps still dim from where they'd fallen asleep with them on the night before. Jennie's books were still piled on her nightstand, her suitcase was still on the floor, and through the open closet door, she could see that Jennie's clothes were still hanging up.

The house seemed motionless, though. It was too quiet. Her brain was still in that midway state between asleep and awake, but when she sat up and saw that Jennie's laptop bag was gone, it was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. She'd woken up before when Jennie's laptop hadn't been there, when Jennie had been using it downstairs in the kitchen, but this time it felt different. It felt absent.

The letter, the vase of wildflowers, the cold bed. It all just added up to Jennie having left sometime after Lisa had fallen asleep. How long had she waited?

Lisa felt the burn of tears behind her eyes and she scrubbed her hands harshly down her face. Choking on the lump in her throat, she tossed the blankets off her and pulled on her pajamas. Even if she knew in her heart that Jennie wasn't there, she had to check. She had to make sure.

Her hand hesitated over the letter propped up on the nightstand. It was as if it was made of fire and if Lisa touched it, she'd burn. If she touched it, it would truly mean that... that...

Lisa left it there as she pulled on some pajamas and dashed out of the bedroom. She checked every room in the house, ran barefoot down to the boathouse, climbed up into the treehouse. Cold resignation seeped into her as she mentally ticked off every place that Jennie could be, and found her at none of them.

She'd hoped, wanted to believe, that Jennie wouldn't leave. On some level she knew, after the things that Jennie had said yesterday, that she was at least thinking about it. The passionate, tender, but intense way they'd made love the night before, the tears they'd both had in their eyes; it had seemed almost final in a way, like Jennie had been saying goodbye.

Yes, Lisa had at least suspected what Jennie was going to do, and yet, she hadn't tried hard enough to stop her. Hope was a fickle, untrustworthy friend. Lisa supposed that she hadn't really believed that Jennie would leave.

Really, Lisa should've brought it up the second it crossed her own mind.

Lisa shivered as the chill breeze whistled through her thin pajamas, but she made no effort to move, too lost in thought. She kept coming back to Somi; everything had changed after Jennie had been left alone with Somi.

What in the fuck had Somi said to Jennie yesterday when Lisa was taking BoA back to the mainland? In the morning, they'd been so happy. Before she'd left for the mainland, Jennie had been stressed and worried, but not crying. She wasn't pouring her guilt out on the porch. Something had happened while Lisa was away, she was sure of it.

Raking her hands through her hair, Lisa stood on the lawn, the morning dew soaking into her feet.

Tears spilled out of her eyes as she stood there, feeling forlorn and lost without Jennie. Sniffling, Lisa made her way back inside and up towards the bedroom.

She found that she could barely look in the direction of the closet because Jennie's colorful science pun shirts, her satin and silk shirts, the dress she'd worn, were all hanging up there. The casual clothes were as familiar to Lisa now as the Diane von Furstenberg. Jennie had brought enough clothes to change twice a day if she'd needed to, and the memory of them unpacking the suitcases a week ago washed over her.