Chapter Six
673 Words
Winter wrapped Vancouver in its usual gloom. The air bit at her cheeks when she walked to class, and the sky stayed the same shade of dull gray for weeks.
Inside her dorm room at St. John’s, Brianna sat on her bed, laptop open, pretending to study while the snow piled quietly outside. Seventeen now, she looked the same but felt different, calmer, more calculated. The kind of girl who smiled only when she meant it and said things that made people flinch before they laughed.
Sometimes she wondered if she’d picked that up from Canada, or if it had always been in her.
Her phone buzzed. Jenny.
Jenny: You awake?Brianna: Barely. It’s too cold to exist.Jenny: You say that every winter.Brianna: Because it’s true every winter. What’s your excuse? It’s almost midnight there.Jenny: I was helping Papang. The harvest’s good this year. The fields look beautiful.Brianna: You say that like mud and mosquitoes are part of the charm.Jenny: They are, if you stop acting allergic to real life.Brianna: I prefer my real life temperature-controlled, thank you.
A laughing emoji appeared.
Jenny: You haven’t changed.Brianna: You sound disappointed.Jenny: No, just amused.
Brianna smirked, leaning back against her pillows.
Brianna: So, what’s new in your exciting province?Jenny: Not much. Vigan’s trying to be modern now. New cafes, new places. You’ll see when you visit.Brianna: Trying is the keyword there.Jenny: We’ll make you love it eventually.
Brianna: Good luck. Miracles aren’t real.
Another pause. Then:
Jenny: You’ll like some of the people here too.Brianna: You trying to set me up with someone?Jenny: Maybe. You’re too picky.Brianna: I’m not picky. I’m realistic. Boys my age act like toddlers with Wi-Fi.Jenny: So what do you want then?Brianna: A man, obviously.
Jenny: You don’t even know what to do with one.
Brianna grinned. Cute.
Brianna: Oh please. I’ve lived here since I was twelve. You think we need instruction manuals? s*x is like bad weather, it happens to everyone eventually.
The typing bubbles came, disappeared, then stopped entirely.
Brianna: What, did I offend you?Jenny: No. Just surprised you talk about it like it’s nothing.Brianna: That’s because it is. Everyone here treats it like a handshake. I’m probably the last untouched girl in BC.
A longer pause this time.
Jenny: Some things are better when you don’t rush them.Brianna: You’re talking like you know.
Jenny didn’t answer.
Brianna stared at her screen, the ghost of a smirk fading from her face. There it is, she thought. That tiny, almost imperceptible shift in Jenny’s tone.
Brianna: You do know something. You slipped.Jenny: You’re imagining things.Brianna: Am I?
Nothing.
Then, finally:
Jenny: You always dig too deep, Bri.Brianna: And you always hide too well.
Jenny sent a smiley emoji, the polite kind people use when they want to end a conversation.
Brianna stared at it for a moment, her jaw tightening. She wasn’t stupid. Jenny never talked much about the Saavedras, but every now and then she mentioned their projects, their community programs, their “outreach work.” And always with that careful tone, too casual to be natural.
And once, just once, she’d said “he.”No name, no details. Just he.And Brianna, sharp as she was, didn’t need more than that.
She didn’t know what bothered her more, the secrecy or the fact that Jenny, the sweet, unassuming farm girl she’d befriended, suddenly had something Brianna didn’t.
Brianna: Fine. Keep your secrets. I’ll drag them out of you when I visit.Jenny: You can try.Brianna: I always win.Jenny: Not this time.
Brianna rolled her eyes, tossing her phone aside, though the small twitch of irritation refused to leave her chest.
Jenny was hiding something. She was sure of it. And it had something to do with Jordan Saavedra.
She told herself it was curiosity. That it was just the nosiness that came with friendship.
But the truth was simpler, and far less noble.
The idea of Jenny keeping someone like him to herself made Brianna feel something unfamiliar.
It wasn’t jealousy exactly.
But it was close enough to sting.
- Writer
