Bittersweet (Jenna Ortega)

chapter eighteen.

I lean my hands against the sink basin, staring at my reflection in disbelief.

How did these feelings arise for Jenna and when did they become so overwhelming.

The door creaks open and when I glance up, Jenna's staring at me through the reflection of the mirror. "Liv said you were feeling sick."

Sick of not understanding what I feel and how I'm even feeling so deeply for someone I once couldn't stand to see.. someone like Jenna.

"Yeah. Must be a cold I'm coming down with."

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me."

She chuckles dryly. "You're so fucking bad at lying."

"And you're so fucking good at it. Tell me which ones worse?" I scoff, all the insults left unspoken for the last few days giving us whiplash at once.

"I meant it, you know."

I clench my jaw. "What?"

"How you're a bitch," she steps closer to me. "Well, you were. But then I saw a different side to you, a side I never knew was possible. Under all those thick layers is a girl with a heart."

Unable to push any words out, she moves forward again until our arms are almost touching. "My brother adores you. He asks all the time when you're going to come around again. What I'm saying is it took so little for me to like you. I don't think hate was ever present in my heart."

"You like me?"

"Can you shut up for once, Kennedy, I—"

"I like you too."

Once the words exit my mouth, a huge weight lifts from my shoulders. I feel like I can stand straighter, no longer bearing a secret so earth shattering.

"You're going to make this harder for me." She mumbles.

"By liking you?" I frown. "Is that not an answer you hoped for?"

"I thought I could spill my guts, run away and never have to think twice about your response. I didn't think you liked me back."

"What's not to like? You superglued my notebook to my desk in freshman year after a month of knowing me. Keyed my car, claiming it was an accident. Threw water at me on multiple occasions while I was wearing white and knowing I had to give a speech in front of hundreds of people. Convinced our entire grade I was dyslexic because I couldn't spell Wednesday."

"Is this supposed to be good things?" She furrows her brow. "I'm aware of how I treated you, but it's not like you were a saint either. You humiliated the guy I liked so bad, he transferred schools. Tripped me at the award ceremony, drew a detailed picture of a dick and told me to go fuck myself. You-"

"Okay, let's not turn this into a competition." I laugh a little in light of the memories, but a serious tension thickens around us. "I think after that night you showed up at my house in tears, something in my heart changed. Then in the car when we almost kissed, you were all I could think about. I don't know what all this means, but I know what I'm feeling is real."

She doesn't say anything. Her mouth moves, but no words come out.

I start to feel a little embarrassed at her silence. It's incredibly difficult to express feelings and if she's just going to stand there and-

"Kiss me."

"What?"

She rolls her eyes and grabs my hands, placing them on her hips. "Do I have to do everything myself?"