Letterman (Chaennie)

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Once the brief wave of emotion passes and Rosie stops crying, all that's left between her and Jennie is silence.

They're laying about an inch apart from each other, not quite close enough to be touching but close enough that Rosie can feel Jennie's breath and the warmth radiating off of her body. She's almost afraid to move forward, because that would put them flush against each other (lips, legs, chests, and noses touching), but she's also afraid to move backwards.

It's awkward.

Really awkward.

Something has shifted in their relationship now, something has changed. It's as if everything has been flipped upside down. They've never been emotional with each other before and, honestly, Rosie isn't sure if they were ever meant to.

Rosie stays perfectly still, counting the seconds until she'll inevitably have to stop holding her breath and inhale. Those aren't many seconds. She needs air to live, after all.

(Thanks a lot, air.)

"Um..." Rosie exhales softly. She realizes halfway through that she didn't think of anything to say. She swallows carefully before continuing. "Thank you for that."

"No problem." Jennie is looking at her differently. Her eyes are... softer.

Rosie doesn't know what to make of it.

She doesn't get Jennie. She thinks that maybe Jennie doesn't want people to get her, but Rosie kind of needs to figure out what Jennie's deal is, just for the sake of her own sanity. She doesn't understand how Jennie can be such an asshole to her some days and then randomly do things like this on others. And until she figures it out, she can't make a move. She can't afford to be so needlessly reckless with her heart.

Rosie sits up, if only to give herself a little more room away from Jennie's persistent stare. She runs a hand through her hair and sighs.

She can't remember a time when she's been this worked up over anyone.

There's some shifting to the left of her and then Jennie is sitting up, too. Rosie pretends not to notice when their arms brush and a shiver rolls down her spine.

Jennie scratches the side of her neck, right around the spot where the baggy shirt she's wearing dips low and reveals a pale collarbone. "So, do you want to sleep or do something?"

"Depends." Rosie turns to face Jennie. "What's the something?"

"Well, I was thinking—"

"No charades."

"You're no fun, you know that?" Jennie rolls her eyes, but she smiles while she says it, so Rosie knows that she's only joking around. "Friendship is about give and take. I do something for you, you do something for me, and so on."

Rosie just can't help herself.

"So, that's what we are? Friends?" She blurts out before she can lose her nerve. Once she's said it, she realizes that she sounds a little needy, but at least it's out there.

Jennie looks at her for a second that feels as if it goes on for a year and then shrugs carelessly.

"Sure. Friends it is." Jennie smiles.

Okay.

Friends.

Rosie can do that. Probably. She already has lots of friends and things are going fine with them, so it shouldn't be any different with Jennie. She just needs to stop acting so weird.