Don't Wanna Be Your Girl || Jensoo

Chapter 23

"Gonna stretch my legs and raid the vending machine," Wendy announces, pushing back her chair, the legs scraping quietly against the carpeted floor.

She digs around in her backpack for her wallet.

"You two want anything?"

Jennie glances up from her laptop, fingers pausing over the keys, offering a small smile and a shake of her head.

"No, thanks."

"I'm good," Nayeon says.

Her focus doesn't shift from the open textbook in front of her.

"All right." Wendy drops her bag back under the table and stands. "Try not to have too much fun while I'm gone. I know how much feminist pedagogy revs you ladies' engines."

"Mm. What could be sexier than de-centred classroom practices?"

Wendy stares at Jennie for a beat then blinks slowly.

"The sad thing is, I can't tell if you're actually being serious."

"I was joking. God," Jennie huffs, crossing her arms. "I don't get aroused by teaching frameworks."

The tilt of Wendy's head and the solitary raised eyebrow tells Jennie that the other woman doesn't believe that for a second.

"Uh huh, well, if you ever do manage to tear yourself away from nerdgasming over bell hooks and want to indulge in the universally accepted standard definition of fun, you should come out with us sometime. We could hit up a few bars, play some pool, maybe go dancing. In da clerb, we all fam."

Jennie's brows draw together. "In—what?"

"In da clerb, we all fam." Wendy's eyes widen. "Broad City?"

Off the blank look she receives, Wendy tips her head back and mouths something presumably disparaging at the ceiling.

"Seriously? Jennie, how could you not know about Broad City? It's the realest shit. Funny as fuck. Whip-smart social commentary, authentic depictions of young women fumbling towards adulthood, everyday feminism, and as yet untainted by a Lena Dunham cameo. Abbi and Ilana are basically friendship goals. Back me up here, Nayeon."

Nayeon only makes a noncommittal sound, one finger tracing across the textbook page while she scribbles down another sentence in her notepad.

"Obviously, I've heard of it," Jennie defends, rolling her eyes, "and I've seen stuff on Tumblr and Feministing. I've just never watched an actual episode. From what I've observed from secondary sources, they seem to spend a significant proportion of their screen-time either stoned or conspiring to get stoned and, correct me if I'm wrong, one character is creepily sexually obsessed with the other but it's unreciprocated?"

"Okay," Wendy pinches the bridge of her nose, "I'm going to let this pop cultural philistinery go temporarily because, right now, I'm in desperate need of a blood sugar bump but, when I return, prepare to be schooled on the defining television show of our generation. Back in ten."

Without the buffer of Wendy's presence, the atmosphere shifts perceptibly, the silence that follows growing stilted.

Since the encounter with Jisoo outside YG Hall, things have been awkward during the few occasions Jennie and Nayeon have been left alone together. Their interactions are polite but distant, weighted by an unacknowledged but palpable tension; it's a stark contrast to the way they seemed to connect so readily before, when Jennie truly thought she'd found not just a new friend but a kindred spirit. This strained civility, she doesn't really know how to deal with. And the fact that it's her own fault, that she may have inadvertently encouraged Nayeon's alleged more-than-platonic interest in her (according to Jisoo), only causes Jennie greater consternation.