The Girl Who Lives In My Garage • Jenlisa

twenty-four

I spend Waiting Hour One alternately playing games on my phone and staring down the long hallway, willing Lisa to appear. During Waiting Hour Two, my phone battery dies, and I spend most of the time falling in and out of sleep with my head against my dad's shoulder. It's the start of Waiting Hour Three when my dad nudges me awake.

"Someone's coming."

I jump to my feet and rub the sleep from my eyes. Sure enough, footsteps and voices approach. But when the source of those sounds appears at the end of the hallway, it's Mr. and Mrs. Manoban. Just Mr. and Mrs. Manoban.

"How'd it go?" Dad asks.

"We were able to get a hold of our lawyer and the Traverse City Police Department," Mr. Manoban explains. "Pending an appearance before a judge, all charges will be dropped."

"That's fantastic," Dad says, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

"We were able to see Lisa," Mrs. Manoban says. "To show her Bambam's letter. To explain that we were heartbroken and acted irrationally." She pauses to wipe at her mascara-smeared eyes. "We've still got a lot to work through, but it's a start."

I bite my lip. All of this is great, but none of it is what I want to hear right at this second. "So, are they releasing her?"

Mr. Manoban nods. "The officers are finishing up some paperwork and getting her stuff back to her."

I grin. Now that's what I wanted to hear.

"She asked about you," Mrs. Manoban says.

"She did?" I ask.

"As soon as we explained how we got the letter, she had to know if you were okay and if you were in trouble for letting her stay at your house."

The fact that she was concerned about me while all of this was going on with her is incredible. It's tacky and cliché, but my heart really actually does skip a beat or two or seven.

Dad clears his throat. "Speaking of..."

Walking down the hallway toward us is Lisa. She's wearing that absurd Seoul National University sweatshirt that I've never been so happy to see and carrying her backpack in one hand and her coat in the other. The second our eyes meet, she smiles. I take off sprinting down the hallway.

Lisa drops her coat and backpack a split second before I throw my arms around her, taking her a few steps back with me. I'm laughing and crying and kissing her, and she tastes like the ChapStick in the black tube, and she's warm and safe and here, and I am deliriously happy.

She pulls back and glances down the hall, but both sets of parents have graciously turned away, giving us our gay moment. She uses one hand to wipe at my tears and the other to tuck my hair behind my ears, then rests both hands on the small of my back, holding me close. She looks down, her eyes searching mine. "You went to my parents' house for me."

"Yep."

"You found Bambam's letter."

"Yep."

She toys with my Petoskey stone necklace. "You are a stupid, brave, and beautiful girl."

The only reason I stop smiling is because it's difficult to kiss and smile at the same time.

"Hey, you two," Mr. Manoban calls, and we pull apart. "We should get going. We've still got a long drive home."

Lisa slings her backpack over one shoulder, grabs her coat, and takes my hand. We walk together toward our parents, still standing in the lobby. "Nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Kim," Lisa says. "I'm sorry about the whole 'living in your garage' thing."

"Forgiven," Dad says. "We have increased our security, though, so from now on, you might want to try the front door. And I know the Trans Am is awesome, but so is our living room."

Lisa laughs and squeezes my hand. "Got it. Thanks."

"Thank you for being so good to Jennie," Mom says.

She smiles. "Anytime."

"And thank you for your help," Mr. Manoban says to Dad.

They shake hands, and Mom and Mrs. Manoban shake hands. As they switch, my stomach twists. The Manoban's are going back to Traverse City. We're going back home. I've only seen Lisa for a few minutes, and I'm losing her already. When we walk outside, the Manoban get into their SUV, and Mom and Dad get into theirs. Lisa lets go of my hand long enough to put on her coat, and then she pulls me into her arms.

"I don't want you to leave," I say, choking up. "Not again."

"Hey. Every single time we've been apart, I've found my way back. You really think this time's going to be the worst? I'm going to have my cell phone. I'll call you and text you until you're so sick of me you file a restraining order." She pauses. "Wait, too soon for law jokes?"

I laugh and press my forehead to her. Her nose is already cold, but her breath is still warm. "You better call and text constantly."

"I will. And I'll visit. We'll figure this out, okay? After all we've been through, we will make it."

One more kiss seals the promise.

"I love you," I say.

"I love you, too."

I smile. "See you later."

"No. See you soon."