New Girl in Town

Chapter 49

On my day off from the restaurant, I go to the lake. It's not because I expect to see her there; I go early, hoping I beat her and her friends, if they do have plans to swim and tan on the shore.

I go because water isn't just about washing yourself clean. I don't need to cleanse myself of her. That would be thinking like her. Like the love we hold is dirty or wrong. I hated how she tripped into admitting that, not understanding she'd created a trap for herself. Not seeing she was hurting herself more than she was hurting me.

I go because water is about rebirth.

My toes slide in. It's morning chilly. No fog on the water, but almost mystical all the same, the trees and fluffy clouds reflecting across the lake. Water laps at my ankles, then my calves, my knees. I hesitate, my fingers swishing ripples in the ever-moving surface.

Am I brave enough for this?

To love myself?

To let her go and hope someday she finds her truth?

I take a deep breath.

There's only one way to find out.

I dive in.

***

I'm unlocking my bike from the rack in the far corner of the parking lot when I hear the sputter of an engine. It's like déjà vu, that minivan pulling up near the path toward the lake. Kai and Rosie pile out, followed by the rest of the girls. I look away as Jennie climbs out. Water drips down my back from my hair. I wind my chain around my bike. They go down the path, but she looks back and our eyes meet.

No hiding. No looking away.

Just her and me and what exists between us, burning bright. She smiles and I smile back, bittersweet.

Then I turn and I go. I don't look back. I can't bear to know if she's watching me go.

I'm out of the parking lot, across the street, and down it a good way when I hear the slap of flip-flops behind me.

"Lisa, hey!"

I turn around to see Jisoo crossing the parking lot toward me.

"Hey. What's up?"

"I wanted to invite you to a party at my place tonight."

"Jisoo, you don't have to do that," I tell her.

"But I want to," she insists.

I can't help but look skeptical.

She takes a deep breath.

"Look, I heard that it got around, your mom's—" She stops. "I'm sorry. Jennie told me about your mom because she was worried she hadn't handled it right. She was looking for my advice. Irene overheard us. That's how it got blabbed all over. I want you to know that I wouldn't talk about it like it's gossip. The reason Jennie asked me was because I—" She licks her lips, looking down at her bejeweled flip-flops. "Because I've experienced something similar in my family."

My heart thumps as her voice lowers and slows, like she's picking each word carefully. This means something to her.

"My sister was really depressed a few years ago and she tried to end her life. My parents were able to get her the help she needed, and she has a diagnosis now and meds and a great therapist and is doing a lot better. But I'm so sorry about your mom and I'm so sorry about how this went down with everyone. If someone had gossiped about my sister, I'd want to tear their eyes out. I understand if you hate me. But I wanted you to know that Jennie wasn't trying to gossip. She was trying to understand how to help you best, and she came to me to make sure she wasn't fucking up. It's not an excuse— we should've closed the door so no one could've overheard us. But she—" Jisoo bites her lip. "Jennie's been home a week and she just seems so sad. Not like herself. I asked her about it, and she told me how she fucked up her friendship with you. So I thought, maybe if I explained—"

"I appreciate it," I interrupt her gently, trying to absorb it. Is it the truth? It has to be. Jisoo would have to be some kind of monster to lie about something like that.

"I live in the house stuck in the seventies on Luna Street," Jisoo says. "Come or don't. Totally up to you."

"We'll see."

"I hope I see you there. I know it'd make Jennie happy."

"And that's what you want?" I ask, curious despite myself. I wonder if she suspects. If she's read between the lines and looks and longing. Does she care? Does she approve? It doesn't matter to me, but I know it does to Jennie.

"She's my best friend," Jisoo says. "I love her. And you're the kind of girl who watches people's backs. That's a good person to have around."

"I'm glad she has you," is all I say. "Bye, Jisoo." I get on my bike and pedal away.

I'm not even home before I've decided: I'm going to go to the party. I want to prove to myself that I can do this. That I can handle being near her and not aching with each step and breath around her.

My way out of this is clear. But all paths should be tested.

All choices have what-ifs.