Jennie
Crap. I rush out to follow her, squeezing through the crowd to get to the door. Outside, the crisp fall weather is such a distinct contrast to the stifling heat inside that I can nearly taste the sharpness in the air.
On the porch outside, I see Lisa walking determinedly through the gravel parking lot below.
"Lisa!" Lisa has her hands stuffed deep in her black pea coat. For a second, I think she'll keep walking, but then she stops. When she turns to me, the streetlight illuminates her deep frown.
"Go back inside, Jennie."
"Like hell. You can't boss me around like one of your minions."
"Boss you around?" She laughs, with a short, cutting bark. "You're the one who's been puppeteering this whole farce. I'm not going to be your gigolo."
"No. Gigolos get paid. I'm asking you to be you."
Lisa lets out a growl, an actual animal noise. "Do you even hear yourself?"
"Come on!" I extend a palm. "Just admit it! You're a player. You slept with me after talking to me for a couple hours at a bar, you slept with half the bridal party..."
Lisa lifts a finger pointedly. "I didn't sleep with Tzuyu."
"Oh, wow! So out of the entire sorority, there's one woman you didn't sleep with. Two, if you count your sister. Well done." I drop my arms. "Look, I'm not judging you. I'm really not. I'm just saying maybe, don't yell at me when I call you out on it."
"So that's what you think of me." she says shortly.
"I don't know what to think of you!" I say, exasperated. "That's the point. Every time I try to ask you questions about yourself or get to know you, you just shove me away. You're built like a tank. Inside and out. There's no getting through your armour."
Lisa shifts slightly in her spot, as though even the thought of opening up, puts her on pins and needles. "You're not perfect either."
"No." I say plainly. "I'm not. I live vicariously through my brides. I orchestrate these beautiful proclamations of love knowing full well that I destroyed my one shot at that." I shrug. "No one's perfect. So why not embrace it?"
Lisa tosses up her hands. "I don't want Irene!"
"Why not? You don't think that she's attractive?"
"She's pretty." She paces. "That's not the problem."
"Then what is it?" Lisa drops down a wall of silence. I sigh. "Lisa. Talk to me."
Lisa makes a face like she's chewing on thumbtacks. She looks away from me and paces in a small circle, clearly struggling to pull her words together. Finally, she turns to me, drops her shoulders, and confesses, "I like you."
I have to pause for a moment to process her words. "You like me?"
"Yes. I like you." She spits out the words like an accusation. "I hate everything, but somehow, someway, I like you. I like your... smile. I like how your hair gets frizzy in the morning. I like how you find the silver lining to everything. You tell when I'm being an ass, which would normally irritate the heck out of me but when you do it, I listen. And it makes me want to be less... I don't know." She's borderline frenetic, raking her fingers through her hair.
I fill in the blanks helpfully. "Less of an ass?"
She drops her arms and turns to me. Sincerely, she says, "I've never felt this way before. Ever."
Her eyes are looking at me expectantly, but all I can do is stare dumbly. Oh. Oh no. These aren't butterflies, this is a vice around my stomach, twisting and turning. My heart wants to soar, but every time it beats its wings a little faster, I feel caught like a kite, hesitation and doubt reeling me back down to Earth.
"Well, say something." Lisa says. "Tell me I'm an ass, or..."
