The Girl Who Lives In My Garage • Jenlisa

seventeen

There's no way in hell I'm stepping foot in the garage. There's too great of a chance Lisa will be back—the times she left before were far from permanent—and seeing her after last night is not high on my list of priorities. I'm too overwhelmed. Maybe too scared. So as soon as I'm ready for school, I head out the seldom-used front door and walk around the corner to the driveway.

As usual, Jisoo is waiting for me in the driver's seat. "Did you come out the front door?"

I buckle my seat belt. "Something wrong with that?"

"No. But you always go through the garage."

"Needed a change of scenery," I say. Then I close my eyes and pretend to sleep the whole way to school.

The day is made worse when Rosé goes home sick after second hour. She rushes out of the classroom with her hand clamped over her mouth. When she comes back, she looks pale and weak. A nasty case of the stomach flu has been going around, including some of the teachers, which means I get to watch movies put in by substitutes for two of my classes. But I still wish Rosé were here to distract me from my thoughts.

Since she's not, my mind keeps drifting back to Lisa. Being lied to still hurts. Worrying about her secrets sucks. Avoiding the garage isn't going to make either of those better. Lisa's the one who taught me that avoiding problems doesn't help.

She's such a hypocrite. Making me face up to my problems, my pain, then walking away from her own. But she'll be back. I'm sure of it. And instead of avoiding her, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind.

I spend most of the ride home from school gathering my courage. If Jisoo notices my distraction, she doesn't say anything until we get home, and I don't follow her to the garage. "Where are you going?" she asks.

"To check the mail. I bought a book. Online. For school." It's a lame excuse, but I need to do this alone.

"Whatever," Jisoo mumbles before heading inside.

The mailbox is empty, and by the time I get back to the house, Jisoo is gone. I pause at the side door and take a deep breath. I turn the handle. Open the door. The "How dare you?" is on my lips, but it tumbles to the ground when I step inside.

The space between the car and the wall is empty. The tarp and the blankets are still hidden from sight. Lisa's not here. She didn't come back.

The garage stays empty the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. I check the garage every time I walk through, and every time I can't sleep. With each trip, some of my anger chips away, replaced by worry. Sadness. Though Lisa's absence should become familiar, though it should be a little less unexpected, a little less sharp with each passing day, it's not.

Everything seems slightly off without her. My bed feels a little colder. The neon sign outside Erma's Café seems a little less bright. My desire to escape to parties is a little weaker, knowing she won't be at my house when I get back. Lisa had become a huge part of my life. I didn't realize that living with her secrets would be easier than living without her.

Worse, it's affecting my mood. Even little things hurt, like when they announce our school's Valentine's Day dance. It's lame, and I probably wouldn't even go if he were here, but the only person I'd want to go with is Lisa.

After the announcement, Rosé and I are assigned to work on an in-class project. Instead, I doodle dramatic broken hearts in my notebook. Apparently, Chaeng's  still not feeling well, because she keeps resting her head on her desk and moaning slightly.

"Have you heard about any plans for this weekend?" she asks, voice muffled by the desk.

"Not really. Why?"