Burgundy || HS

six

A short, slim, half-past twenty-one year old woman is expected to lock lips with the most attractive man she’d ever encountered should he be willing to shove the key down his throat. Yet, Jane Bradley still was not like any other woman. Would it be so insensitive for Harry to say that this woman made him feel like Kurt Cobain? Rich, but utterly miserable. He never knew what she was feeling, nor if he was the cause of it. All he knew was that Jane Bradley either didn’t have feelings for him, or was in denial of those feelings.

The first option weighed out the latter when Jane stepped back into the door, cowering away from the soft pink lips. She didn’t say goodnight, nor did she look back when she stuffed the key into the front door and shut it behind her. Red lips and rosy cheeks, she threw her things to the floor and looked down at herself. She’d rejected a man that was so used to getting what he wanted. Did she feel powerful or suddenly needy? Because he too possessed those red lips and rosy cheeks, but in the coldness of the weather and the chapness of his lips, not for the reasons Jane had.

And Harry reminded her of a rollercoaster. Something you don’t know if you enjoyed until it was over, and Jane was positive that this ride wasn’t over. Harry was persistent, she knew, he would find a way to get her alone again, and she wouldn’t make much of an effort once he got what he wanted. Jane didn’t expect that Harry wanted anything from her. Sometimes a kiss is only a kiss, but sometimes there’s a person who makes it more than just a brush of the lips, and Jane wasn’t sure if she even wanted to see Harry again, let alone allow his lips close to hers.

Then again, Jane wasn’t sure if she was a second choice. Considering she’d never been a first choice before, she truly did wonder if Harry simply resorted to her. She didn’t like that. It meant that she was… dispensable. And she knew from months of studying and listening to her mother about the strength of women that she was not dispensable. She wasn’t a star; she was the galaxy. She was every single galaxy and more. Over thinking was a weakness of Jane’s and once she realized what she was doing, she moved from in front of her door and walked to sit on the couch.

She still hadn’t heard Harry’s car pull away and she figured that he was shocked that she didn’t want to kiss him. Her head rested in her hands. Behind the front door, Harry’s eyebrows were just becoming scrunched in confusion. Had Jane mistaken an innocent goodnight kiss for an exclusive welcoming party to a committed relationship, or did she just not want to kiss him? No, he decided. No, he was too good for her to not want to kiss him. He’s handsome, mildly successful, and can battle her in wit any day, so when did Jane decide that she was any better than he was?

Harry walked down her porch and skidded off into night. He’d decided that he was better than Jane in every way. He was better than every woman—everyone. And in that moment, Harry went back to the thoughts Jane chastised him for. Thinking that all women were the same, that they were supposed to do everything that every movie and book said they should. Had it not been proven that not every woman wants the same thing? That maybe Jane didn’t want Harry’s small connections, or his money, or a small kiss after an unacknowledged date.

While Harry drove, Jane stood in her shower, riding her hair of the smell of overly expensive candles. It was nice, Jane could admit, but not nice enough. Harry wanted to impress her, but there was no thought put into it. Regardless of his contact name in her phone, he was no Gatsby. And Jane wasn’t sure if she liked or hated that. Harry tried to think clearly with the vodka coursing through his veins. He wanted to think of everything except Jane. The news, the weather, how much Jane told him she hates the current weather, and fuck, how much she hates the news because there’s too much going on to depress her further. He couldn’t search through his mind of unrelated thoughts without bumping into some piece of her.