love, rosie | ✓

TWELVE : FIFTY-ONE

The insistent ringing of her phone early in the morning — as in around 12:14 AM to be specific — had begged for her to wake up. She hasn't fully woken up yet, she was still under cold water and was trying to resurface back. She searched for the phone, when she felt it, she took it.

She opened one eye and looked at her phone screen.

'Wifey'

It flashed.

Rosie's eyes widened and she immediately sat up and answered it.

"Ye—"

"Rosie!" Jennie's wailing had cut Rosie's greeting off.

She was going to speak again, to ask Jennie what was going on, but all Jennie did was cry some more, sob, break, and all in between the actions that heart broken people do — or despondent, she's not sure yet what it was Jennie was feeling, what her best friend was going through.

Rosie let her, she was good at that, giving people time, space to continue. She also took it as an opportunity to shake off the drowsiness that resided deep in her bones.

"I'm in love with her, her, I'm in love with a friend,"

It wasn't surprising to hear, this was expected. Rosie wanted to say: I know, Jen.

But that would be inappropriate given what Jennie was going through.

She stayed silent. Jennie needed someone who would listen.

"It's Lisa," Jennie sniffled and tried to breathe, she was breaking down, she felt attacked, stressed. It was as if she was deep into something— into love. All this time, and that was when she only managed to admit it to herself, admit it to someone else that she was; "I'm in love with Lisa."

"I love her so much— it's so, God, Ro, I've loved her for a long time."

Jennie breathed in.

"I don't know what to do with myself, I can't sleep, goodness, we have classes tomorrow..."

Shuffling noises.

"Are you still there?"

Rosie nodded, forgetting for a moment that Jennie couldn't see her.

"Rosie?"

"Oh I am here," Rosie then mumbled a "Sorry,"

"No, it's okay... I'm sorry for waking you up, I don't know who to call, I was..."

"Don't apologize, you know I'm always here for you." Rosie cleared her throat and sat up.

"I don't know what to do, Ro." Jennie admitted.

"What do you want to happen?"

There was a long pause from Jennie.

"I don't know what I want, but I know what I don't want to happen..." Jennie began.

"Uh-huh," Rosie urged Jennie to continue.

"I don't want her to get another girlfriend, I don't want her to fall in love with someone else, I don't want her to hate me, I don't want her to leave me, I don't want her to be anybody else's."

"The opposite of I don't is..." Rosie trailed off so Jennie would continue.

"I do," Saying it was so foreign in Jennie's mouth, but it taste like strawberries and cream and vanilla, like Lisa— even if she hadn't really tasted her. "I do want..." She could manage to utter the start of it, but never the actual sentence itself, never the admission.