I learnt two things that day. One: Jessica was a bundle of contradictions. She could be as cold as the harsh winter in one moment and warm as summer the next. She could be demanding, but at times, she could ask so little of me. I found it amusing to watch, wondering if she had split personalities. Two: Jessica was a fellow shopaholic, like how I was before I ran away. I could only stare at the clothes she had picked out from the malls, yes, malls. We practically travelled back and forth to different malls just to pick different outfits. She could’ve picked everything blindly for all I’ve known. She stuck her hand in a rack and pulled out some random piece of clothing. If it was acceptable, she would buy it, if it was unacceptable, she would put it back. It was strange, her way of buying things. When asked, she would shrug and say that she didn’t care about the way she bought her things. One of things I missed about home: shopping. But then times became hard for me, and I barely had enough to keep food on my table, if I had any, that is.

“Here, take whatever you need,” Jessica tossed the plastic bags full of clothing on my bed. “Put those in there when you’re done.”

I wonder how much her job paid her. Just to fork out a large sum of money for a stranger must either mean that she was the daughter of some rich businessman, or she was the CEO of some company. Unable to decide between the two, I just pretended not to know anything and gladly accepted clothes that I could finally call mine.

I stuffed the clothes in the closet blindly, not caring what I picked. It felt so good to have something to call mine and a place to call home again. And to think that this was all given to me by a stranger who just happened to have a spare room and lots of extra cash that she could go spending around without a care.

“Well, no, I didn’t exactly let you stay here for that,” Jessica had appeared, leaning on the doorframe.

“You knew what I was thinking of?” I frowned.

“I could see it on your face. Can’t I just take you in because I felt like being generous on that day?” she shrugged carelessly.

“Hah…and I just happen to be a lucky, homeless girl you take in?” I answered sarcastically.

“I have a heart, you know,” her bottom lip jutted out in a pout as she sat on my bed.

“So does anyone else,” I flinched as she pouted, not being used to her unusual display of affection.

“But I took you in before anyone else could,” she smiled, apparently satisfied with herself.

I couldn’t say anything to that. When you’ve spent five years out in the streets and a miracle suddenly passes by and gives you a place to stay and food to eat, I couldn’t really say that anyone else had been dying to take me in.

“So, why did you take me in?” I asked her, leaning against the closet with my arms folded across my chest. “Was it out of pity?”

Jessica frowned at me. “Pity? No, I just thought I felt sorry for you, so I took you in. I’m lonely around here anyway.”

“You could’ve rented this spare room out.”

“Look, I just can’t explain it. I just wanted to. Rather than have some irritating tenant who only pretends to be polite around me, I’d rather have you.”

Jessica’s eyes widened at what she had just said. Quickly getting to her feet, she exited the room. I chuckled quietly at her, even if I couldn’t help but to think on what she had just said. I sat where she had sat on the bed, deep in thought. But just when my mind was coming up with a possible reason, Jessica appeared again.

“By the way, what do you want for dinner?” she asked, though she seemed more flustered than before.

Eventually, Jessica became the elder sister I never had. She took care of me, fussing over the slightest things. There was certain warmth about her, even when cold, that I admired greatly. It reminded me of my deceased mother, but that only made things worse for me. Every attempt she tried to get closer to me would only result in me trying to push her farther away. I appreciated all that she had done for me, but I just wasn’t ready to open up yet.

“Tiffany,” she held my hands lightly as we sat on the couch.

I had always enjoyed little, but initiated skinship between us. Her hands would brush lightly against mine as if it was by accident, even when it wasn’t. I preferred it that way. As I said before, I was philophobic, and I couldn’t stand the fact that she would readily touch me out of love. I looked down on our hands, then back at her, thinking that she would remove them, but she didn’t. My breathing accelerated and my forehead broke out in cold sweat.

“Jessica,” my voice was dry and raspy, but it had an edge to them.

She appeared aloof, and didn’t seem to realise that my fear was kicking in.

“Jessica,” I said again, but this time, I was pleading. “Please let me go.”

She didn’t seem to process my words. I looked down at our hands again, and pictured them to be entangled, a broken mass of bones and blood. I gasped, recoiling away from her immediately. My hands stung, being ripped out of hers too fast.

“Tiffany, you should calm down,” as Jessica leaned towards me, I cowered away from her. “Calm down, what you see isn’t real. It’s only you. Calm down. Take deep breaths.”

“It’s only me?” my voice was raised now, diligently smearing away any traces of weakness. “It’s only me?”

“Calm down,” Jessica said sharply, shooting me a glare.

“Jessica, you don’t know anything about me!” I yelled.

But then something in me faltered, and stopped. It held me back as I knew that I was the one who never opened up to her.

“Tiffany, you’re philophobic, do you understand? It’s nothing, just take it easy,” again, she ran her hand down my back.

I quieted down, still breathing hard from my outburst. I leaned back heavily on the cushions, staring blankly at whatever was in front of me. Jessica had remained quiet and had withdrawn her hand when I leaned back. Though somehow, the awkwardness had not returned.

Jessica

I needed to change things. I needed to make Tiffany accept the fact that love isn’t as bad as what she thinks of it. This was only my first step. If she will hate me for it, I wouldn’t mind. Just watching the narrow-minded girl fret over love made me edgy and jumpy. I needed her to change.

Readers’ Note:

There will be more later on. I now feel so drained that I have no idea what else to write. Sorry, folks. JeTi is still in the dark for now. I need Tiffany to embrace love first, then I’ll get her to embrace Jessica.

Thank you for reading!

Yours Faithfully
Jazzign