Bittersweet (Jenna Ortega)

chapter twelve.

9PM SATURDAY

Jenna wipes desperately at her watery eyes, sniffling about four times before finally, she speaks.

She looks rough, as if she's been crying for hours. Not having an expressive family meant I didn't know how to properly comfort someone in tears. My brother didn't cry much, and he was already in college by the time I was ten.

"I didn't know where else to go- I- sorry."

I frown, the line so heavy between my eyes it's uncomfortable to blink. "What... happened? Are you hurt?" I ask, not fully believing she'd show up here instead of calling one of her best friends, or both.

I've never seen her so vulnerable.

"No. No, I'm not hurt. I'm fine. I shouldn't have come here- I'll go."

Despite not having to deal with comforting family, I got pretty good at it with Liv and Keli. Especially Liv. She's a big baby who needs constant reassurance and cuddles and food bribery and cigarettes, which has always been her love language.

Jenna and I might not be friends, but I should try to comfort her. I mean, that's why she's here right? For some sort of closure that she can't get from whoever she ran from.

I manage to catch her hand; she flinches harshly at my touch. That's when I notice the bruises crawling up her wrist. She yanks on her sleeve and glares up at me.

"Forget I was ever here." She sneers.

She turns on her heels for the second attempt to escape, but for some reason I do something so not Maise like. Something that could backfire and earn me a punch, slap or a spitfire of colourful words.

I gently grab her arm and pull her against my chest so I could hug her from behind. I'm surprised when she doesn't resist, and I feel her entire body go limp. She starts crying, and her hands grip onto my forearm that's wrapped across her chest to steady herself.

Jenna breaks down in my arms.

Her cries hurt my ears and her nails dig into the skin of my forearm, but I stay silent. I let her cry until her throat dries and her body racks with the violent aftermath of it all.

I don't know how we got here.

Just three weeks ago she joined my soccer team, I hated her then. She was the reason I got punched. The reason I get distracted in every game, every practise. Because even though I hate her, she's on my mind a lot. When you hate someone so much, do you still think of them?

"Are you hungry?" I ask, feeling her head nod.

"I'm waiting on a pizza." I say. "Come inside."

Apart from wanting to keep my pride, I also don't like thinking about whatever caused those bruises, and her going back to it.

She moves like a robot, walking straight to the couch and sitting down.

I linger beside the door and saved by the doorbell, the pizza turns up two minutes later.

We eat in silence. She doesn't look at me, but I stare at her. Her eyelashes were still damp with tears, my heart started to burn just looking at her. I know the feeling that rises in my stomach, snaking around my insides and clamping down.

Regret.

I drop my slice of pizza.

"Jenna, I'm so-"

"I don't need pity right now, Maise. Especially not from you." She cuts me off. "Thanks for the pizza, but I should go."

"Home?" I question.