Lisa paused her video game at a crucial moment in the most arduous boss fight she'd taken on yet, annoyed at whoever dared to knock on her door. After three days of struggling and mostly failing to write through her depression, she'd discovered her ideal therapy: immersion within a punishingly difficult, combat-driven adventure. Having to focus on her character's every action and reaction made it impossible to wallow in self-pity, let alone obsess over her decisions and whether they were right or wrong. She was sick of thinking about Jennie. All she wanted was to slay digital demons. Fuck thinking. Fuck hurting. She scowled at the peephole as she approached the door.
Most likely Chaeyoung was checking in again, but even the prospect of time with her best friend couldn't pull Lisa out of her funk. While she loved Chaeyoung dearly, the girl wasn't all that into watching Lisa play video games. She would prefer to chat, no doubt, but Lisa was all talked out. They'd discussed the situation with Jennie every day that week, yet come Thursday afternoon, Lisa still felt like shit. Hence she was giving up on chitchat. Only wanton digital carnage could heal her now.
Wondering how offended Chaeyoung would be if asked to kindly go home, Lisa peered through the peephole as her visitor knocked a second time. The sharp rap of knuckles against wood punctuated the thunderclap of emotion that detonated inside Lisa at the sight of Jennie's nervous, mildly distorted features on the other side. Lisa jerked away like she'd been burned, and in a sense, she had. Five minutes ago, she'd been safely ensconced inside a beautifully grotesque fantasy world, but now the source of her heartache was here to drag her back into reality. A mixture of resentment and guilt coursed through Lisa, compelling her to back away from the door. Even if Jennie had come to apologize, Lisa wasn't certain she was strong enough to hear her yet. She definitely didn't have the strength to rehash her own mistakes.
Not expecting persistence, Lisa jumped when Jennie spoke through the door. "I know you're in there. I heard you pause your movie."
Lisa bit her lower lip, then said, "Video game."
"Whatever it was, it sounded terrifying." Jennie paused. "Maybe I'm less so?"
Lisa wasn't so sure. Without weighing the consequences, she called out, "I don't think I'm ready to talk to you yet."
"Even if I'm here to tell you how sorry I am?" Jennie lowered her volume. "I know I made mistakes, major ones. The worst of which was not staying for ice cream. I should have. A real friend would have."
Sighing, Lisa opened the door. She didn't want what sounded like sincere remorse to become a spectacle for their neighbors. When she saw what Jennie held, Lisa clutched her chest and sucked in a startled breath. "Why is Karen here? If you're asking me to pet-sit...I don't know. I have my limits."
"No." Jennie glanced down at the clear acrylic enclosure she carried and the four-inch, pink-toed tarantula stuck to its side — its inside, thank God — with a flustered, self-conscious expression. "I guess I didn't..." She exhaled and met Lisa's gaze. "Need to bring her along. I seem to have a knack for totally bananas ideas that feel solid right up until you open the door."
Confused why Jennie would ever think to bring her tarantula for a visit, yet oddly charmed that she had, Lisa defied her own anti-spider policy by asking, "Would you two like to come inside?"
Jennie slowly broke into a smile. "I can take her home first, if you want." She gestured at her own apartment door. "It's not far."
"That's alright." Lisa moved aside to let Jennie pass. "Just keep the cage closed."
