jealousy, jealousy | Jenlisa

3

After that incredibly helpful realization, Jennie does what she does best when it comes to emotions: ignore the problem so she doesn't have to confront it.

The new issue is, now that she's aware of said problem, she notices it everywhere.

She's not an idiot; Jennie was aware that Lisa is a very attractive person from the get-go. Gratingly so, in fact, with her pristine complexion in the likeness of porcelain, her full, pink lips with the Cupid's bow arc, and her lovely, almond eyes. Jennie hates how good-looking she is, at times, and her self-awareness of it translates into an irritating smugness in the best of times.

So really, it should be a no-brainer that, like Jennie, other people would notice Lisa's looks and decide they are attracted to her, and if they're feeling particularly bold, try to make a move.

But she guesses she never really realized what that entailed.

Strangers' eyes trail Lisa as she walks past, service workers treat her extra nicely, and most importantly, people try to flirt with her. Many people try to flirt with her. Jennie can't count the number of drunk girls she's seen who've tried to cling to Lisa's arm as they stumbled through college parties.

Jennie wonders if she bangs her head hard enough through a glass window, she'll fuck her head up enough to forget this realization.

Gods, she's not a teenage girl daydreaming about experiencing becoming a rom-com's leading lady. She's never even thought about romance or being in love or all that stupid bullshit because it's not like those would be useful for her in the foreseeable future—it'd just end up being a distraction from her studies.

Damn fucking Lisa Manoban. She never fails to ruin everything.

But what can she do, really? Physically fight every person who tries to lay their hands on Lisa?

So she just decides to white-knuckle it the entire time, even if she thinks stabbing her own hand with a fork would be more enjoyable.

"What's your order?" Lisa asks, kicking her leg from underneath the table.

Jennie jolts, not realizing she'd been staring absentmindedly at the diner menu. Lisa had apparently been waiting for her outside the library while Jisoo and Rosie were holed up at her apartment finishing their own pair project for Lee's class so she doesn't walk home in the dark. Then Lisa proceeded to complain that Jennie took too damn long at the library and demanded they eat dinner before she starved to death, which made her want to smack Lisa because it's not like she fucking asked her to wait for her.

"Haven't decided yet. You?"

"What the fuck's taking you so long?"

Before she can answer (see: insult her), the waitress assigned to their table approaches them and gives them a greeting. Jennie spouts the first thing she sees on the menu as her order, which makes Lisa snort, earning her a glare.

"And what about you, Miss?" asks the waitress, turning to Lisa.

Jennie doesn't miss the way her hand lands on Lisa's arm, a saccharine smile on the waitress face. The waitress leans closer, pretending to peek over the menu items Lisa's pointing to even though Jennie knows the so called waitress can hear her order perfectly fine.

God fucking damn it.

"Do your specials include the fries or do I have to order them separately?"

She has the urge to wrench the waitress' hand away from Lisa's arm, and wipe that stupid flirty simper off her face, since the fucking idiot doesn't want to do it herself, still nodding along and smiling at her politely like she isn't invading her personal space.

Fucking hell. She's going insane.

After what seems like forever, the waitress finally leaves to put their orders in.

Jennie sits and stews, scrolling on her phone and pointedly ignoring Jisoo's teasing texts about her 'date' with Lisa. She continues to do so when their food arrives and the waitress flashes Lisa another coy smile and Jennie contemplates smashing a plate at her head so she doesn't have to endure this again.

Out of nowhere, Lisa pushes the tray of fries toward her.

"What?"

"You always want fries. No, correction: you always steal my fries." Lisa says, raising an eyebrow. "So there, have that."

Once she gets over her brief surprise, she starts shoveling her food into her mouth, eager to just get home and pass out and forget this ever happened.

When they get the bill, however, Jennie notices something scrawled behind it.

The waitress' phone number. On their fucking receipt.

Lisa's eyes barely gloss over the receipt—she never checks the price when she pays, one of the perks of being filthy fucking rich, Jennie guesses, and she's kind of thankful for that now.

So when Lisa stands up and doesn't take it like always, Jennie does, rips it up into little pieces, and throws it in the trash can.

Yes, she's aware she's acting like an idiot. Yes, logically, Lisa didn't even flirt back or even show the slightest amount of interest in the waitress. Funnily enough, Lisa never does reciprocate, only with replying with terse and detached politeness that had been ingrained in her by her upbringing.

(Or maybe she does, and it's just a way of flirting Jennie isn't familiar with because Lisa has never been the most forthcoming or really, normal kind of person. But she doesn't want to think about that possibility.)

But gods if throwing that number away didn't make her feel better.