KICK IT | JENLISA

22

Jennie

"I don't give a fuck what she needs." Sharpness coated my taste buds, and I directed the tip of my knife at Jackson's nose. Traitorous brother. "She needs a football rammed up her ass, a sheet of plexiglass smacked in her face, and her dismembered testicles fed to a pack of wild boars, but I do not need her back in my class."

In case it wasn't obvious, I became... detailed when angry. My body heat skyrocketed, and my breath turned shallow and hollow. I curled my fingers around the knife until my stubby nails brushed my palms. A slight sting erupted from the cuticle I ripped off during Lisa's ass-kissing meeting.

The corners of Irene's pale lips twitched. "Are the boars getting all of her or just her testicles?"

Jackson rolled his eyes, then paused and frowned. "Back up... what do you mean by back in your class?"

"Any part the boars can maim, Irene." I cupped over the heated throbs pulsing in my forehead like my brain smacked against my skull. The scrape of my rejected plate across the table and the clink of my dropped fork cut through the silence. "No. Fuck no. I'd rather teach yoga on Two-Ninety during rush hour to a group of rounded-up homeless people who haven't showered since the last time it snowed than interact with that... pathetic consumer of oxygen again."

Irene lifted a hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling. "That's... very specific."

"And do you know why!?" I directed my glare at my brother, who wisely sat silent. "Because those people would appreciate it. Lisa is all hat and no cattle... beyond decency. Let her Calabasas doormat of a girlfriend fix..."

"She dumped Lisa." Jackson interrupted.

"For real this time?" I slumped back and crossed my arms. Jackson nodded and threaded his hand through his black waves. Interesting. "So, she has at least one working brain cell left."

Good for Krazy Kendall. The lack of surprise in my brother's eyes, medium brown and identical to mine and Dad's, drew my lower lip between my teeth. "You knew."

He offered a slight tip of his head. "More like suspected."

My last up-close encounter with Lisa Manoban, before I dropped her on her head, elicited the usual goosebumps on my forearms and the back of my neck. A strong pulse beat in the side of my neck, where her lips had trailed dirty promises over my skin. I never told Jackson what happened, although the entire house knew Lisa arrived drunk off her ass. Tipsy and delusional, she slurred compliments to any pair of breasts within a ten-foot radius. Including mine.

As I exited the bathroom, she grabbed my elbow and whispered half-compliments, half-suggestions in my ear. Her warm breath fanned my shoulder, creeping goosebumps up my skin. Her fingers stroked circles around my elbow. Her scent was the bottom of a beer keg, expelling the filthiest promises.

Given the years since my body had any action, I wasn't immune to physical attraction. A tall, and gorgeous person whose eyes burned at me one 'yes' away from dropping to her knees and eating me out wasn't a common occurrence in my life. I hated the way heat flushed through me, my breath shortened, and my lower pulse point thrummed.

I wouldn't have been surprised if a tumbleweed snowman fell out of my vagina with Lisa's offer. While I second-guessed my biophysical reaction for weeks, my knee couldn't have rammed into her groin fast enough.

"Go find someone with a more desperate vagina and lower standards, Lisa."

I blinked out of the sordid memory. An icy chill trembled down my spine, trickling into my bones. "Lisa only cares about her own selfish existence."

Like always, Jackson's mouth opened in defence. "She's..."

"Where should I start!? My bullshit day aside, she didn't come to your wedding!" I shifted my eyes to Irene. "Does she even know what you've been going through? Appointments? Pin-cushion impression?"

Her sympathetic gaze averted. "No."

I lifted my hands and yanked at my bun. Stringy locks spilled out and fell to the middle of my back, releasing my bun's strain on my roots. I wrenched the loose strands into a ponytail. "It's no secret how much I hate Lisa. I can't... I can't help her. Tonight more than proved that."

"And it's no secret that I think you misjudged her." Jackson retorted. "She's not a bad person, if..."

"Jackson." I dismissed his auto-repeat accusation because, for once, my brother didn't know the entire story. "She was a disaster in Beginner Flow. And you know the people I try to help."

I left the obvious 'she's not it' to simmer in the silence that swallowed up the kitchen. Irene's eyes studied where she pushed her fork around her plate.

"Throwing in a spoilt, and entitled athlete insults their progress."

Unlike Dad, and to some extent me, Jackson possessed no athletic abilities. Tall, thin, and at a new-born deer coordination level, his strength resided inside his skull. A master manipulator and surveyor of all angles, he was the negotiator observing not only all the chess pieces but the players behind them. His ability to congregate opposing sides and mediate until each parted with the sense they made out better was admirable.

And he was way out of line here.

"I'm sure if you can help her, Lisa would make a considerable donation to the trial." Jackson stabbed the centre of my bleeding heart. "And raise more awareness to support the rehab program."

Remembering my work discovery, and numerical examples of Lisa's true sense of generosity, my nostrils flared. "I'm not a charity, Jackson. And I have my shit to sort out, after being fired from YG Accounting. Get someone else."

"Fired? How the fuck did you get fired!?" His eyes rounded, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You were there for three days!"

"Four." I grumbled. "Let's go with a mis-alignment of principles."

Irene's soft hand covered mine. "I'm sorry, Jennie."

"Jennie, what did you do?"

"Me!?" I coiled my hand under Irene's and glared at Jackson. Of course, he assumed it was my fault. "Ruffled the wrong managerial feathers. What did you do!? Why the fuck do I now have a front-row seat to the Lisa Manoban shit show?"

"She needs your help." His neutral tone burned my blood. "Her shoulder..."

"Is lucky to still be attached after what she did tonight. No, Jackson." My hands squeezed until the skin across my knuckles stretched white. "Some people are beyond..."

"There is no exercise better for the heart than reaching down and lifting someone up."

Irene gasped. "Jackson."

Hot tears welled up in my eyes. Taehyung's quote was the lowest blow, a cleat kicked into my heart. I palmed the table and stood on shaky legs. Brotherly love. Never thought he'd sink that low.

"Still true." Jackson's insistent words opened my eyes. Our family's stubbornness jutted up his chin. "And you know it, even if you don't want to acknowledge it."

Irene's dark hand palmed Jackson's pale one. "Enough."