Lisa walks into school unsure of exactly what it is she's going to say. On the one hand things should be easy and simple, the air between she and Jennie should have cleared, but on the other hand there still seems to be so many unsaid things. Because how on earth can Lisa go back to just being Jennie's friend when she knows exactly how she feels.

Rosé raises an eyebrow when Lisa walks into school.

"Something's up."

Lisa hates the fact that Rosé can always tell when something is wrong, hates the fact that it's impossible for her to hide her secrets. Hates that somehow, she doesn't mind.

"It's nothing."

"Bullshit."

"I don't want to talk about it?"

It comes out as more of a question than a statement because when has that ever really dissuaded someone from questioning you anyway.

It seems to work though.

"Fine," Rosé says, shrugging her shoulders, "just know that I'll be here whenever you decide that you want to."

"Thanks."

"What are best friends for?"

Not for secret kisses, Lisa thinks to herself, not for regretted 'I love you's. She doesn't voice any of that aloud though; instead she offers Rosé a warm smile, a genuine one.

"Buying me chocolate?"

"In your dreams."

The two settle into silence after that. It's not uncomfortable or tense; it's just a sign of how strong their friendship really is. The two of them don't need words to pass the time, they're content to go about their own business, just knowing that the other one is beside them. Once again Lisa is reminded of just how lucky she is to have ended up with Roseanne Park as a best friend.

Lisa can't breathe when Jennie walks into the room. It's not surprising that she looks good today, a plaid shirt tucked in a pair of high wasted jeans clinging to her legs. Lisa tries not to let her gaze linger, tries not to make it too obvious.

But she figures it must be. Because surely it's clear in the way a small smile slips onto her face at the sight of Jennie. Surely it's clear in the way her breath hitches, her palms sweat and Lisa has no idea where to look. Surely everyone must know.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The words echo through Lisa's mind sending reverberations wherever they go. And it's all Lisa can think, and all Lisa can hear and it's everything she regrets saying.

Somehow, impossibly, Rosé doesn't seem to have realised though.

"You okay mate?" Rosé asks.

Jennie smiles, Lisa notices that the other girl never looks her way, that she seems intent on keeping her gaze averted from where Lisa is sat.

"I'm good."

"Great."

That's the end of conversation and Lisa knows that it's her turn, that she's supposed to fill the lull but she can't. She's afraid to open her mouth in case the words come spilling out again.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Friends. Lisa reminds herself. That's all the two of you are supposed to be. That's all Jennie promised.

"Hey," the word feels thick in Lisa's throat but she manages to get it out none the less.

"Hey."

A pause, Lisa knows she's supposed to say something but she finds herself desperately searching for words. How did this used to seem so easy? Why doesn't it seem that way anymore?

"Have you done the English essay?" Jennie asks, seemingly intent on the two of them moving forward, the two of them moving past the awkwardness.

"Yeah," this time the words don't catch in Lisa's throat.

Slowly it seems to be getting easier. Maybe eventually it'll just be easy.

"I had no idea what to write for my concluding paragraph."

It would seem that Jennie is never very good at endings, Lisa thinks to herself somewhat bitterly, and maybe that's the problem.

Lisa doesn't miss the way that Rosé's gaze flickers between them as if she knows something is up. Lisa's not surprised, the awkwardness between seems almost like a physical being, a new addition to their little group.

Nayeon is completely oblivious to it all when she arrives though, whistling a show tune under her breath.

"Guess who just had the best weekend ever," Nayeon says, throwing herself down into the seat next to Lisa.

"Did you win the lottery?" Jennie asks.

"No," Nayeon's tone is unsure, as if she has no idea where Jennie is going with this.

"Did you meet the entire cast of Game Of Thrones?

"Uhm..no."

"Did JYP entertainment spot you and now you're going to become Korea's next big thing?"

"Gosh, how I wish. But, no."

"Then how on earth was it the best weekend ever?"

"Bam finally managed to get the weekend off work and let's just say that the two of us didn't leave the bedroom."

Rosé rolls her eyes, Jennie offers Nayeon a high five and Lisa is left to wonder when on earth their friendship group transfigured itself into being like this. All of her life Lisa has always been a part of a small group and she's never particularly minded it. It's better to be close friends with a small group of people, than not-really-friends with a big group. And yet this year the group has doubled in size, and Lisa has a feeling that it's going to continue to grow. Now that Rosé has stopped acting like such an idiot, Suzy is actually starting to sit with them at lunchtimes.

It seems that Lisa's world is slowly expanding, and she can't say she's entirely unhappy with the direction it's heading in.

A tentative smile is offered by Jennie when she thinks no one is looking, combined with a subtle question.

"You okay?" Jennie mouths.

Lisa knows she can't exactly say that she's not, not that she has any idea how on earth she is. And so she settles for the simplest reply, the one that will stop Jennie from worrying.

"I'm fine."

xxx

Jennie is worried about Lisa. And she has been ever since she left the other girl's house last night.

Jennie almost wishes that it was easy for her to pretend that the past couple of weeks never happened. That she could pretend that she and Lisa had always been just friends and nothing more, that all the kisses and the touches and the sweetest moments never happened. But they're impossible to forget, they're as much a part of Jennie as her skin and bones. They're integral, important, without them Jennie feels like she might just fall to pieces.

Lessons, that's what Jennie needs to focus on right now. She's not supposed to be thinking about the fact Lisa looks like she hasn't slept, or the fact that the other girl can't look her in the eye. They're supposed to be moving past this, and Jenie isn't sure that she can do that if she cares.

English is a quiet affair, Jennie is seated next to Lisa once again but they trade few words. Lisa asks to borrow a pencil, Jennie asks how to spell onomatopoeia and they move on. Both refusing to look back.

Jennie focuses on ignoring the way that their skin brushes as they write, elbows sharing the same small space. She ignores the way that every emotion is written so clearly on Lisa's face. Jennie ignores it all and pushes the swell of affection that rises within her down as far as it will possibly go.

Friends. Just friends. That's all they'll ever be and nothing more. Jennie says it like a mantra, reminds herself to stick to it, reminds herself that it's not fair on Lisa to pretend that they can ever be anything more, not when Jennie doesn't know if that statement is true or not.

I don't know. I don't know, I don't know.

The words race around in Jennie's brain like children heading home. Right now they're the only thing that Jennie can say with absolute certainty. I don't know. Jennie isn't sure she ever will.

It appears that Jennie's problems all started with a kiss.

A Saturday afternoon, a football match and Lisa laid lazily on the couch, looking the most relaxed Jennie had ever seen her. It was almost impossible for Jennie not to kiss Lisa. But perhaps she should have stuck by her guns; perhaps she should have stuck by her promise to never do that again. Maybe then they wouldn't be here. Maybe.

Or perhaps they'd just be caught up in a different kind of mess.

Jennie shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts as if her brain is an etch-a-sketch, as if a simple movement can erase everything. Friends. They're just friends.

"So on a scale of one to a hundred how excited are you for the Easter holidays?"

Lisa looks up, an expression of what can almost count as shock written on her face. Jennie supposes that it's not surprising; this seems to be the longest sentence Jennie has said to her all day.

"Unreasonably excited," Lisa replies, "although there's still far too many weeks to go."

"Only four weeks."

"That's four weeks too many."

Jennie rolls her eyes and lets out a laugh. The sentence is just so typically Lisa, so typically the girl she befriended that Jennie is reminded that everything is going to be okay. That if Lisa can go back to normal then surely Jennie can too.

Jennie is just over thinking things, is just making things far more complicated than they have to be. Maybe Jennie is trying to fix a problem that isn't even there, and maybe, just maybe, she needs to take a step back and stop.

And so Jennie ignores everything, takes every single moment from the past few weeks and locks it away in a little box, refuses to let herself look at it no matter what. Imagines that she's throwing the metaphorical key as far away as possible and hopes that somehow that will be enough.

Hopes that a friendship can still be salvaged from the ruins of a kiss.

"Well at least you get to spend those four weeks having an awesome time with me," Jennie says.

"Sorry Jennie, but I think you just mispronounced terrible in the worst way I've ever heard," Lisa replies.

It takes Jennie a few moments to figure out what Lisa is eluding to, and when she does her eyes narrow slightly and a scowl etches itself across her features. She turns to look at Lisa with a glare.

"Take that back."

"No."

"Take that back," Jennie's tone is insistent but Lisa's expression remains impassive.

"Make me."

"I swear to god Lalisa Manoban," Jennie mutters, "take that back and say you have a great time with me else this friendship is over."

"Some losses don't exactly hurt."

Jennie's mouth can do nothing but fall open in both shock and hurt. She looks up at Lisa just in time to see a mischievous smirk dance across the other girl's face. It seems so unlike Lisa and yet so like her at the same time. It's a carefree Lisa, a more confident Lisa, and Jennie likes it, more than she's ever going to be willing to admit.

"It's official," Jennie says, "I don't like Lexi. I think she makes you mean."

"Who says it's Lexi's fault?"

"You're right. Maybe she is just helping to expose you for the cruel person you truly are."

"I think you're over reacting."

"You said that you wouldn't care if I wasn't your friend anymore," Jennie says.

She knows she sounds like a toddler throwing a tantrum but she can't help it. It's one thing feeling like her and Lisa's friendship is over, it's another being told that Lisa wouldn't mind. And Jennie knows that Lisa is probably – hopefully – joking, but Jennie is still scared. Because who's to say that one day the joke won't seem so funny, that Lisa won't realise what a terrible friend Jennie is and leave.

The worst thing is that if that happened, Jennie would be pretty sure Lisa had made the right choice.