Girlfriend On Mars

26. "I don't like you"

Twenty Six.

"I don't like you."

The morning began at ten am, the hollow of Jen's throat dry and painful, the back of her head throbbing from the impact of the night before. So, she rose from the bed slowly and shuffled off towards the bathroom. Jude's bedroom door was ajar, but there was no sound in the hallway. Just past the staircase, there was quiet talk, Pamela's voice then her father's laughter.

After urinating, washing her hands and brushing her teeth, Jen stared for a few seconds into the over-sink mirror. She was pale, her face a sick white as if she were looking at the moon, her lips were dry, the skin was broken along the bottom lip and her hair looked limp and tousled with the hours of the night.

Jen hung her head over the sink and grit her teeth, letting a thick string of saliva hang off her lower lip. Her stomach was hurting again as she began to think about what Marley had said the night before, and how she was going to deal with it. She turned on the tap hurriedly, cupping her hand under the flow and then splashing the water up against her ivory skin. She was shocked, but part of her knew the change was inevitable and she knew it wasn't going to be her that would fall first, or at all.

Once back in her room, Jen stood by the door for a few moments. Marley was waking, her big, lash-fringed eyes fluttering sleepily, the pale blue in them peeking out subtly as she scanned the bedroom. Jen realised then that she had gone to sleep in her same dress from the night before, without complaint or mention, and Jen sighed heavily.

"Jen? Morning." She said, watching Jen as she walked around and sat on the side of the bed. "Are you alright?"

Jen exhaled again and rubbed her hands together in her lap. "Marley..."

The younger girl swallowed. Jen never really called her by her first name, she'd gotten so used to 'Mars' or 'Rhodes' that hearing Marley ignited a nauseous fear in her. She knew something had bothered Jen then, that something was wrong.

She tried to joke slightly with, "you never call me—"

"I know, but listen here, please." Jen interrupted. She was facing away from the blonde, perched on the edge of the bed like Marley had a disease.

"Okay."

"Last night, I was awake when—when you said...what you did." Jen said firmly. Marley wanted to see her face, to see how she was feeling. But Jen faced the wall, pressing her palms together. For a while, Jen felt she couldn't properly face Marley, not to talk to her, not to look at her, she had to reflect on herself first and what she was willing to do to fix what had been unravelled. "And I should just tell you, that—well, I don't like you that way. That I don't think I'm capable of anything beyond physical attraction, so I couldn't be a good partner to you even said I felt the same." The older girl clenched her jaw, pausing briefly for a reply and one didn't come, she continued. "I'm not even really interested in shit like that, I've only ever had a few girlfriends and I never loved them—hell, I barely liked them! Maybe that's my own personal problem but you need to know this much. You need to know I'm not capable, okay?"

It was brutally honest, Jen's every rushing thought that she had planned through the night tumbling through her teeth and threading into Marley's expectant ears. Behind Jen though, the girl was still; soft breathing, no sniffles, hiccups or sobs. Jen almost thought it was safe to turn around again. She was surprised Marley hadn't cried, it was the girl that cried every time she raised her own voice and the girl that cried whenever Jen tried to finish an argument or make a comeback. But to a raw rejection, not a single tear had slipped, instead there was a strange relief that settled in Marley's body, that she could barely explain yet to herself.