Nerdgasm (JenLisa)

Chapter 15

Jennie

The pounding of my head wakes me up, and I groan in misery, eyes still closed, as the events of last night play like a movie reel in my brain. My splitting headache and swollen eyelids are nothing compared to the aching of my heart as I recall what I told Lisa.

"I just want to help you be normal." I cringe. My words will haunt me, only to be surpassed in pain-filled remembrance at the thought of Lisa's face.

"I'm such a b***h," I declare out loud.

Shame heats my face, and I fight to keep the tears at bay. I really hope I didn't ruin things with Lisa. I suck in a fractured breath, hoping to fortify myself against the riot of emotions threatening to burst forth and overwhelm me. I hate the idea of leaving things how we left them and letting the hurt fester for an entire week, but she's entitled to her space. If I'm being honest with myself, this is probably a smart decision. I'm not even sure how I feel about everything.

Did I push her too far?

Did I overstep my bounds?

Am I really trying to change her?

Thinking about all of this isn't exactly helping my migraine, but I deserve to deal with the pain. I roll out of bed, determined to try and be a human, and pad over to the shower. On my way in, my phone pings with a message. My heart stops for a beat. Could it be Lisa?

My eyes swivel to my nightstand, where I usually keep my phone, and it isn't there. Another ping comes through, and I frantically move about my room to try and find my cell. Rifling through my purse doesn't reveal my phone, and neither does the rumpled heap of clothes I shed last night before falling into bed. I leap onto my bed and toss some throw pillows around—seriously, why do I have this many pillows?—when I hear the third ping. Flinging my blanket in the air, I'm almost hit in the face by my phone. I scramble to catch it and glance down at my notification screen.

My hope fizzles out when I see Lisa hasn't texted. Instead, an unknown number shows in my notification screen, but I can't see the message. Swallowing my disappointment, I press my thumb down to open my screen.

Unknown: Hey Jennie, it's Rosé. I got your number from Lisa's phone.

Unknown: She doesn't know I'm reaching out, but she's asleep, so I'm taking advantage.

Unknown: We should talk. You free to meet up for coffee?

Curiosity slams into me. Is she angry, and is she angry enough to do something about it? I don't know Rosé well enough, but I think if she were in the mood to kick my ass to defend her bestie, she'd succeed. Between her protective nature and my guilt, worrying, and overall crappy state of mind, it wouldn't be much of match. s**t, I'm inclined to let her.

While there's a strong possibility she's pissed, the tone of her texts don't convey a desire to take out her aggression on me physically. Besides, she isn't a bully. I have a feeling Rosé has something else in mind. But what is it? Only one way to find out.

I save her number before texting back, and her response is almost immediate. We work out a time and place to meet, not mincing words, and I place my phone down when our exchange is over. With any luck, Rosé will be able to help me out. Time to go find out what she wants.

The chime of the doorbell signals my entrance into my favorite coffee shop, and the fragrant smells of ground coffee beans and fresh croissants provides comfort and familiarity. A scan of the quirky shop shows me Rosé isn't here yet, so I get in line and order a hazelnut latte with almond milk for me and a peppermint hot chocolate for her. I take a seat at an empty booth facing the door, and Rosé breezes in right as our drinks are delivered. Perfect timing.

She quickly spots me and heads over, sans smile. Unease swirls in my stomach.

"Hey," I say with a lackluster wave. "I ordered you a peppermint hot chocolate. Lisa's mentioned it's your favorite." Just saying her name makes my heart squeeze in remorse.

"Thank you." Her words are polite, but her gaze remains somber as she unfurls her scarf from around her neck.

I wait in awkward silence as she gets settled, not knowing how to start the conversation. Her coffee mug is cradled between her palms when she finally speaks.

"You know why I wanted to meet with you, right?"

"To curse me out? To tell me I messed things up? To tell me I'll never find someone like Lisa again?"

A small smile twitches at the corners of Rosé's lips as she shakes her head. "You already know the answers to those questions already. No, I'm not that type of person. Yes, you messed things up, and yes, you'll never find someone like Lisa. What I'm here to tell you is what you don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"Jennie." Rosé c***s an eyebrow at me over the lip of her mug before she takes a sip. "I know Lisa better than anyone, and you hurt her. As much as I'd love to punch you in the face—again, not that type of person—I also know you make my best friend happy. There's a lot you don't know."

"Listen—"

"No." The implacable tone matches the steely glint in her eyes as she cuts me off. "You listen, Jennie. From what Lisa told me last night, you did a lot of talking and not a lot of listening. I'm going to need you to just keep your mouth shut, listen, and try to understand where she's coming from. You got it?"

I'm stunned into momentary silence by her protectiveness, so I simply nod.

She inclines her head in approval and takes another sip of her cocoa before she starts.

"She's probably mentioned it before, but Lisa and I grew up together. We were neighbors as children, and we quickly became best friends. I'm a few years younger than you two, but we really hit it off. Being as close as we are, I've witnessed everything she's been through and everything she's done to own her stutter.

"I don't know what it is about people being different that brings out the inner asshole in some people, but Lisa was like a magnet for bullies. I know she wears glasses now, but she had these really huge, thick frames when she was a kid." She's staring into her mug, a small smile on her face, but her eyes shine with tears when she glances back up at me. "She also carried comic books around with her wherever she went, which I guess she still kinda does today. These weren't enough to bring unwanted attention to her, although they did draw the eye. Unfortunately, it was her stutter that bullies honed in on. Lisa's naturally quiet and non-confrontational, so looking back, it's almost like these qualities made it worse because she was a challenge."

Sadness engulfs me as I picture Lisa as a kid with big glasses and unruly hair, getting picked on for something she can't control. My throat clogs with emotion, and I'm grateful Rosé is speaking.

"She'd get picked on constantly, and it always seemed to fall in a cycle. It'd always start the first year or so when she started a new school, and then it would taper off once people got used to it and realized she didn't respond to their jibes. But some of these little assholes were persistent, June being one of them. But you know what? Lisa was the bigger person every. Single. Time. She never retaliated. Never gave in. Never cried. She's so strong."

Pride and love and sadness resonate clearly in her voice.

"Outside of our families where she's comfortable, Lisa's dealt with a lot. She spent years being ridiculed by others and being told how to act; all that crap takes a toll on you. She didn't tell her mom about the bullying, at least not until she was older and could help out. I don't know if she told you, but her dad passed away when she was just a kid. There was a time for a while where her mom struggled to make ends meet, and she knew that if she brought up the bullying, she'd break her back working so she could go to therapy. She knows she's perfect as is, but she's protective and never wants Lisa feeling less than everyone else.

"One day, she made the choice to overcome her stutter in her own way. On her terms. She's been to the specialists. She's been to the therapy sessions. She contributed money from summer jobs toward treatment to help her mom because she didn't want to be a burden. She's now at a place where it only comes out sometimes, and she's so proud of that. I'm so proud of that."

Heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks at her words. I had no idea the bullying was that bad, and I wasn't aware she sought treatment. I open my mouth to speak, but Rosé shakes her head when she catches the movement.

Message received: I'm still supposed to listen.

"That's when she was fifteen. A couple years later, she started dating. I mean, Lisa might be kinda nerdy and wouldn't be classified as the most popular in school, but you have eyes. She's good-looking. She's been an avid swimmer since she was a kid, so she came into her swimmer's build early. Teenage girls notice that s**t, and she started to get some positive attention from the girls at school.

"She started dating this girl named Tiffany, and she was pretty, somewhat popular, and the complete opposite of her in terms of interests. But hey, it happened. Anyway, they seemed fine the first few weeks, but then she started to try and change things about Lisa. She'd suggest Lisa wear contacts instead of glasses. She'd go shopping with her so she could have a say in her wardrobe. She'd complain if Lisa wanted to watch a superhero movie. She'd whine if Lisa wanted to hang out with me because she was insecure. She'd also get supremely embarrassed if Lisa stuttered. She hated it. When Lisa was made fun of for her stutter in front of her, she didn't say a damn thing. Instead, she laughed. I still want to punch that b***h in the face after all these years, but thankfully Lisa was wise enough to break up with her. Still, that experience left a lasting impression on her."

I watch her hands flex in anger and can't help chiming in. "But I've done none of that, Rosé. I love her glasses, and I think she looks great. I'm down for superhero movies, I'm totally for her hanging out with you, and I think her stutter is the cutest thing ever. I think she's perfect just the way she is."

She gives me a long, measuring look. "No, you don't. You want her to be, quote unquote, normal. You want her to stick up for herself when she gets bullied. How is that not wanting to change her?"

"How is that a bad thing to want to change? She shouldn't have to quietly accept being verbally tormented by some immature jerks."

"Have you not heard a thing I've told you?" She's starting to sound stabby, and I warily eye her clenching fists. "It isn't your way or the highway when it comes to dealing with things, Jennie. Lisa handles her stutter the best she can, and she does it on her terms. Her, no one else's. You want her to do what? Get in someone's face every time they make fun of her? They win that way because that's exactly what they want.

"She sought therapy because it's what she wanted, and she's taking the high road now. Lisa doesn't care about the bullies because, at the end of the day, she's happy with herself. Her stutter makes her shy, but it's nothing to be ashamed of. Respect her enough to let her handle things as she sees fit. She's a grown woman, and if she doesn't want to empower those assholes, respect that. You saying she needs to change and be normal makes her feel like there's something wrong with her. That she should change. That she isn't enough exactly the way she is."

I don't realize I'm crying until Rosé pulls a napkin from the holder and hands it to me, gesturing toward my face. I hastily swipe at my cheeks and underneath my eyes, digesting her words.

"I wish she would've told me all this before," I whisper.

"She shouldn't have to." So simple, yet so true. "Let me ask you this: if what happened last night happens again and you're there to witness it, can you really live with a repeat? If the answer is no, then you'll have to learn to live without Lisa."

The tears start to track down my face again. I royally screwed things up.

"I'm not gonna lie. If it happened again, I would hate it. I don't like seeing people belittle her, which makes it hard to turn a blind eye. But if she wants to ignore it, I can learn to live with it. I really care about her."

My admission eases some of the ache in my chest and warms it at the same time. Am I falling in love with Lisa? One thing at a time, Jennie. Focus on how to fix things first.

"And she cares about you, which is why I'm here. I know it's finals week, but there's a toga party happening at one of the frat houses this weekend to celebrate the end of the semester. You should go."

Confusion wrinkles my brow at her sudden invitation, but her pointed stare makes me wonder if there's more to the invite than she's letting on. "Will she be there?"

"Oh, she'll be there. Parties aren't her scene, but I know she'll go with me if I beg."

"You're so sure about that?"

A smug smile graces her lips. "Yep, I'm sure. She's feeling down, so she'll want to get out of the house. I'll say I plan on meeting a guy there and need her moral support. She owes me one."

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I decide to give Rosé's plan a chance. We were going to talk this weekend anyway, so this will hopefully speed things up.

"Okay, let's do it."

"Perfect. I'll arrive with Lisa, and I'll make sure we run into you. Don't worry about the details. Once you two see each other, I'll run off and give you two time to talk."

"That works for me."

Silence fills the space between us, so we take a moment to finish our drinks in silence. Since this isn't the typical catch-up with your girlfriend type of thing, I make an excuse that I should go study.

As we're leaving the café, bundled back up again to stay warm against the cold, Rosé turns to look at me, a serious expression on her face.

"I'm telling you now, Jennie, if you screw this up again, I will punch you in the face."

"I thought you weren't that kind of girl."

"Yeah, not normally, but I'm not afraid to become that girl. You've gotta get down and dirty sometimes to make a point or to get what you want."

"Remind me not to cross you again."

Rosé shoots me a small smile. "I'll text you the full party deets once I have them. I'll see you this weekend."

"Thanks for your help, Rosé. I know your loyalties lie with Lisa, but I appreciate your help."

"This is why I'm doing it," she replies. "For her. I like you, and so does Lisa. Please think about what I said. I'll see you soon. Later, Jennie."

With a wave goodbye, Rosé turns and heads down the sidewalk toward her car.

I watch her walk away before turning around and heading to my own vehicle. I really hope we can fix what went wrong and that I can show her I accept her as she is because my relationship with her is worth it.

She's worth it.