Second Overtime | JENSOO & CHAELISA

Chapter XXXI

Nayeon didn't remember driving.

She remembered Jennie in the passenger seat, folded into herself like she was trying to disappear between the seatbelt and the window. She remembered the sound of her crying, broken in a way that made Nayeon want to pull the whole world apart with her bare hands.

And she remembered Jennie saying, very softly, "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

That was the sentence that would not leave her. That one sentence, spoken in a voice so hollow it barely sounded like Jennie at all.

Nayeon had heard sadness from Jennie before. She had heard fear, guilt, shame, panic. She had heard Jennie apologize for things that had been done to her and choke on memories too cruel for a child to have carried alone. But this was different. This wasn't Jennie being dramatic or exhausted or overwhelmed. This was Jennie standing too close to the edge, looking down, and not being sure she wanted to step back.

So Nayeon drove slowly. One hand tight on the steering wheel, the other reaching blindly across the console until Jennie took it. Her hand was cold.

"Jen," Nayeon said softly.

Jennie didn't look at her. "Hmm?"

"You're coming home with me."

That made Jennie look at her. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Nayeon, I can't."

"You can. My mom will think we're working on the history project."

Jennie let out a laugh that broke halfway. "We already finished that one."

"Then we're fixing it. Maybe it was bad, maybe I suddenly forgot everything about history. Very believable."

"Nabong."

"No." Nayeon's voice shook, but she forced it steady. "You don't get to argue with me out of this one."

Jennie looked at her then. Her eyes were red, and her face looked pale and small, stripped of all the sharp edges she used to protect herself. She looked like the girl Nayeon had glimpsed in pieces through the years, the one buried beneath perfect grades and perfect manners and a suffocating silence.

"I need to go home," Jennie whispered.

Nayeon's throat tightened. "You told me you don't know how much longer you can do this."

Jennie didn't say anything.

Nayeon slowed at a red light and turned to face her properly. "I'm not leaving you alone after hearing that."

Jennie's lips parted, but nothing came out.

"I don't care if you meant it for one second or one minute," Nayeon continued, her voice trembling now. "I don't care if you regret saying it or tell me you were just tired. I heard it, Jen. I heard you."

Jennie looked down at their joined hands. "I'm sorry."

Nayeon almost broke. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell Jennie to stop apologizing for bleeding when everyone around her kept cutting her open.

Instead, she squeezed her hand. "Don't be sorry. Just stay with me tonight."

Jennie's shoulders started shaking again. "I don't want to go back."

Nayeon's eyes burned. "I know."

Jennie closed her eyes tight, as if she could hold herself together by force. "But I don't know what to do anymore."

The light turned green. Nayeon drove.

"That's why you have me," she said.

Jennie gave a small, miserable laugh. "No one can win against my mom, Nabong."