Chapter 85
Lisa
I don't stop teasing Jennie about the aphrodisiac, even after she puts her maple-mustard chicken thighs and potato wedges on the table. When she first put it in the bowl, it looked so good that I didn't even want to touch it. "That's for lunch?" There's no way she could've done this. It must be a take-out or something, I'm pretty sure I would catch a glimpse of it. "Yeah, why?" At first, she is honest about the question, then she narrows her eyes at me and presses her lips together "Let me guess, you thought I was gonna give you an aphrodisiac?" I snort after I realise that I've spent the last twenty minutes bugging her about it and probably caused her trauma. "No, for real, you cooked this? When? How?" Gracefully, she sits behind the table after she enslaved me for setting cutlery, plates and glasses "Lisa, one of these days you'll notice an oven is a very handy instrument in any kitchen."
"And what makes you think I don't know how to cook?" She grabs the fork but then puts it down only to give her stare more impact. "You don't even know the equipment you own." Touché. Would anyone believe half an hour ago we had a really hardcore quickie? I myself can barely believe it. Speaking of sex; I should probably go and clean up after us, like disposing of the condom... "Jesus!" Jennie jumps when I drop the fork and it hits the table, "What's up with you!". Then she notices something in alright and she eyes me carefully "Lisa?"
"The condom."
"What condom?"
"Exactly! What condom!" I cry and Jennie gets up like she's ready to catch me if I spontaneously collapse in my meltdown. When she realises why my blood pressure hit a critical point, she smiles - as if that's so fucking funny. "Plan B pill's efficiency lasts up to three days." Oh... but-! "No, Jennie, this is not okay! I'm thirty but I forget to put on a condom? What's next, cumming prematurely?!" She tries to keep her face straight but sooner or later she breaks and laughs "The return of Lisa the Diva."
I glare at her, trying to comprehend what's so fucking funny, and calling me a diva does not help. I do so until her laughter dies down, "You done now?" When her laughter dies down, she tilts her head and looks at me with smile lines around her eyes still present, "You want to be so tough, but you're so sensitive." I cross my arms and to do that, I even put my cutlery down. Appear tough, no. I keep myself in control, that's the secret ingredient. And I'm not freaking sensitive, I'm not a baby. Obviously, I have feelings, but she puts it like I'm a little bitch. "Okay, first of all, I'm not so sensitive. I'm emotional, yes, which doesn't qualify as so sensitive. Got it?" She leans back against the chair, mocking me by flakily agreeing with me. Her voice drops down creating the effect of passionate agreement "Oh, yes, I got it. Not sensitive, just sensitive. Understood." I glare at her again, but this time I grab a knife. I'll use it if I'll have to. "You like being provocative, don't you?"
"Oh, what can one do?" She shrugs playfully while acting innocent. All together is just one huge confession. Before I figure out what to say next that wouldn't make me look like the diva that she thinks I am, she finishes her lunch and carries her plate to the sink. "Didn't your parents tell you that is extremely rude?" I thought we were eating lunch together, but apparently not so much. I would understand if she decided not to eat lunch with me to avoid an awkward situation, but even that sounds a little peculiar. The lunch she's made is melting in my mouth, I can't see a reason why someone would run away from that. She rushes to the bedroom without giving me an answer, and she closes herself in. I stare at the door like a donkey. I don't understand women. Come on, do they understand themselves? Highly doubt it. But even I know this is not normal behaviour. "I'm in a rush, okay?" She yells from the bedroom, like that wasn't obvious enough two minutes ago. My heart breaks when I get up from the table and leave the warm and tasty lunch on my plate, but I do what I got to do to find out why is Jennie in such a rush and why is she having a weird experience of PMS. I don't know why she closed herself in, and I don't dwell on that thought. To be honest, I really think about that question after she loses her shit. I walk right in. And what do I see? Jennie, in her underwear, bending down. "Why are you in a rush?" I pull off the question without sounding too interested in whatever she's doing. I have theories what she's up to, but sadly, I doubt it that's the actual case. Covering her breasts and legs with a the cover she pulls from the bed, she turns around and kicks me out of my own bedroom by throwing a hairspray at me "Go out!"
