KICK IT | JENLISA

56

Jennie

Irene's fingers squeezing my arm drew my eyes to hers. "The appearance of the truck, and its much-improved exhaust smell, and not backfiring like a cannon when you start it doesn't mean its spirit has changed."

I pressed my lips. "Hmph."

Her dark eyes shone. "Do you remember how hard I made it for Jackson?"

"You did." I exhaled sharply out of my nose at how tortured Jackson was when their friendship turned romantic. He was one snapped restraint away from a front lawn confessional.

"You tortured him more than a rom-com's clueless love interest trapped in a miscommunication trope, Irene. It was good for him though."

Irene was the first woman to endure Jackson's selfish phase. Her love pulled him out of his ass and was preferential to my sisterly boot-kick approach. I wasn't sure if she knew he wrote his confessions in the bathroom mirror steam each morning, but a little 'Jarene' shipping birdie told her.

"Seems silly now, but I felt guilty for having feelings for him." She squeezed my elbow, then leaned back and palmed her stomach. "He knew that and waited patiently before telling me how he felt. You want to know how Lisa feels?"

I gaped in a dead fish impression. Huh?

Irene's rapid subject change rendered me immobile. "When did I say that?"

"You didn't need to." By her warm, relaxed tone, she knew my answer before I knew the damn question. "Try something totally out of character for you."

"Framed murder?"

"Be nice to her." She offered a humourless smile. "And genuinely nice. Not that weird, all-tooth smile you do whenever your arm is twisted behind your back."

The words were sawdust on my tongue, "Be nice."

"Be nice." she repeated with a firm nod.

How much had pregnancy eaten her brain?

"Jennie? Irene?" The familiarity of a face I hadn't seen in over two years dropped my stomach under the table, where the toes of his boots stopped. Experience weathered his bronzed skin, but his dark brown eyes flashed with recognition.

Flecks of familiar camouflage sent a chill through me. Irene's cheeks paled, and her smile trembled. I swallowed against the constriction that grew a lump in my throat. "Jung... kook."

Jungkook's thin lips pulled into a warm smile. "Hey, girls. Wasn't sure if you remembered."

"Of course." My eyes glazed over his uniform and stopped on the curve under three inverted V's. "Thanks for continuing your service."

"Can I sit with you ladies for a moment?" His eyes asked permission, and he held up a white receipt. "I'm waiting for a to-go order."

An invisible weight sank me into my seat, but politeness and respect won. Once I nodded, rumpled leather signalled Irene's hips shifted. My hand clenched around hers and halted her retreat.

"Wow." Jungkook breathed out and sat. "I haven't seen you both since... you know."

Irene's and my fingers trembled at his reminder. My palm sweat mixed with hers. "You look good, Jungkook."

The same sincerity threaded in his voice softened his eyes. "You too."

"Thanks." My mouth moved around the words my heart drowned out by pounding in my ears. "Baby's good?"

"CJ is three." He smiled and flashed a miniature version of his wife Yu-bi on his phone, down to each flaming auburn strand and matching cheek freckles. "He's getting demoted to big brother."

Irene's voice thinned as her other hand curled over her lap. "Cute."

She and I cut our social circles the instant we moved off-base. In an intentional evil genius plan, I arranged for Irene to rent a room in Jackson's house. The rest fell under the spell of forced proximity and arguing over who was supposed to clean the toilets. I didn't know I would move into her room after they got together, but life happened when you made plans.

Jungkook and Yu-bi's expanding family was amazing, serving as a painful reminder of what I would never have. "Congratulations." garbled in my throat.

"I saw a flyer for your classes on base." Gratitude warmed his eyes. "Heard a few rumours and wanted to thank you. It's big of you, after..."

"Thank you." I said when, thankfully, his order was called. Mental note: shoot up extra karma prayers for that interruption.

"That's me." He pocketed his phone and stood up. "Pleasure to see you both."

We exchanged goodbyes and tracked his exit. Irene's fingers squeezed the blood out of mine until he left, and we released a collective exhale. My voice dropped to a husk as I repeated our mantra, "It gets easier."

"It gets easier." she whispered back.