Don't Wanna Be Your Girl || Jensoo

Chapter 13

"Hot date?"

Jennie stops fussing with her hair to glance at Krystal in the mirror. It's the first actual words they've spoken to each other since the incident several days ago. The atmosphere in their dorm is no more or less strained than before. They've continued communicating in their usual non-verbal way when it can't be avoided but, beyond that, there's been no attempt at initiating conversation.

She's so thrown by the question she forgets this is privileged information she's not in the habit of sharing with her roommate. "I'm meeting a friend."

"That girl?" Krystal doesn't need to elaborate.

Jennie returns her attention to smoothing back her ponytail, not deigning to give a reply.

A minute passes.

"I don't get it."

She isn't sure what's worse: the silent treatment they've settled into until now or this newfound, inexplicable curiosity.

"How someone like you could get someone like her," Krystal continues.

Jennie turns, folding her arms, not bothering to hide her displeasure.

"Pardon?"

A shrug.

"She's hot. And you're..." Krystal makes a vague hand gesture in Jennie's general direction. "You."

"I think I preferred it when we didn't talk."

"Just saying if you want to get laid tonight you should ditch the librarian look."

Jennie almost scoffs because a surfeit of sex is so not her problem. "You hate me. Forgive me if I'm not falling over myself to accept your unsolicited relationship advice."

Krystal rolls her eyes.

"I hate everyone. It's called misanthropy. Look it up."

For a second Jennie's kind of stunned. Because she wasn't aware Krystal's vocabulary consisted of words of more than two syllables. So she isn't really paying attention to her roommate pulling out an item of clothing from the closet until it hits her square in the face. "Here. Try this on."

Jennie holds the garment up for inspection. It's a diaphanous black shirt that's definitely a size too small. She looks from the shirt to Krystal.

"Goth hooker isn't really my style."

"That's the point. Mix it up a little. You could stand to look less like someone who's gonna die surrounded by cats."

Krystal stares at Jennie, tapping her foot.

Jennie baulks.

"I'm not changing in front of you."

"Already seen you naked. Hate to break it to you, doll, but you ain't all that."

How fucking rude. With a huff, Jennie turns her back on the other woman and pulls off her sweater.

"Is that the bra you're gonna wear?" Off the glare Jennie tosses over her shoulder, Krystal holds up her palms. "Whatever, grandma."

Once Jennie has the shirt on and buttoned up—okay, it's even tighter than she first suspected—she faces her roommate again. Krystal gives her a critical once-over. Before Jennie can protest, Krystal releases the top two buttons of the shirt, exposing a bit too much skin to be considered tasteful.

"Hey!"

"Better," Krystal says, then her eyes bug out.

Too late, Jennie remembers about the fading hickeys.