Just One Game

Lisa kicks the ball and holds her breath, watching as it spins in a wide arch.

The goalkeeper is too far in the left corner – a mistake in position Lisa immediately took notice of and mercilessly used to her advantage. Even fully stretched in a desperate leap for the ball, the girl isn't able to reach it.

The referee's whistle cuts through the air, and the crowd raises from the bleachers, bursting into loud cheers.

As if following their call, Lisa swivels around, escapes the hugs her teammates try to drown her in, and runs to celebrate with the supporters. Most of them are her classmates and their families. Some are wearing the yellow-black jerseys of her team. She looks for her parents, but to her disappointment, they aren't among the crowd.

In her search for them, however, someone else catches her attention. She notices a person standing under the bleachers – long, dark hair and a trademark, leather jacket.

Lisa frowns.

(It can't possibly be her.)

“You okay there, Champ?” Chaeyoung appears next to her and leads her back to the pitch. “The referee is gonna give you a warning for stalling the game.”

“Sorry, I just thought I saw--,” she glances behind her, but the person is no longer there.

“Who?” Chaeyoung gives her an amused look as she leans in with a whisper, “your crush?”

Lisa flares up in an instant.

“Shut up,” she squeaks, shoving her friend away.

“Better focus on the game, Champ. There's still half an hour to go.” Chaeyoung snickers as she runs towards their own goal.

Lisa opens , but no sound leave them apart from an annoyed huff.

The match is resumed.

Lisa scores two more goals, sealing another victory for the East High Seoul Tigers.

(It's a good start of the spring season.) 

 * * *

Lisa's favorite song flows from the speakers. But even that fact doesn't bring her down from the quiet balcony to the center of the party below it. She is way too exhausted to dance, or to deal with Jisoo's antics, which are the reason why she fled here in the first place.

She was actually hoping to go home after the game, but Chaeyoung said her parents had gone on a business trip and so, they absolutely, without a doubt, needed to throw a party at her place, celebrating their first win of the spring season. Knowing her teammates would be disappointed if she didn't join them (Jisoo said that the captain's presence was essential to keep up their team's good morale), she accepted the invitation.

She feels bad that in the end she chose to hide from them on the balcony, but apart from being sore and tired, she simply isn't in a party mood.

Her parents promised her that they would attend the match, but again it ended on just that, empty promises. And although she should have seen it coming (after all, it wasn't the first time, and probably not the last one either), the letdown was still a bitter pill to swallow.

(Victories always carry a hint of bitterness.

Maybe it's time to get used to it.)

She sighs and takes a sip of her juice. In an attempt to distract herself from all the pessimistic ruminations, her thoughts drift to the mysterious person from under the bleachers.

Just then a familiar, huskier than usual, voice resounds behind her.

"There you are, Champ." 

Lisa turns around and sees Chaeyoung standing in the threshold, hands resting on hips as she looks at her in mock disapproval.

"Is that a Screwdriver in your hand, or just a plain OJ?” The girl points to Lisa's glass once she joins her on the balcony.

Lisa offers a sheepish smile. “You know me. ."

"Booooring," Chaeyoung teases, but with no real harm as she pinches Lisa's cheek. "Everyone is looking for you. Why are you hiding, hm?”

"Jisoo wanted to play beer pong." Lisa pulls a wry face. "I at it. So I'm hiding here until she's drunk enough not to care.”

"Maybe instead of throwing the ball, you should kick it?"

"Nah, I wouldn't want to strip her of her beer pong champion title. I'm sure she would cry.”

They both snicker at the cheeky statement.

"You feeling okay?” Chaeyoung asks after a moment of prolonged silence. “Haven't seen you acting so quiet ever since we lost to West High last year.”

Lisa diverts her pensive look from the starless sky back to her friend.

"The next match won't be that easy,” she blurts out. “We play against Daegu Dragons. They have good strikers. We should work on our defense and--”

"Woow, slow down there Champ,” Chaeyoung cuts in, patting Lisa on the back. “First of all, our defense plays just fine, thank you very much. Second of all, don't think I haven't noticed those glances you kept stealing at the bleachers.” She wiggles her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Lisa groans in defeat.

(Nothing ever goes past Chaeyoung's attention.

Guess that's why she's a defender.)

Chewing on her bottom lip, Lisa contemplates whether her actual thoughts are even worth sharing. However, with the way Chaeyoung's eyes drill holes in her, it's not like she has a choice anyway. The girl won't let her off the hook unless she gets a satisfying answer.

"I think I saw Jennie today at the game.”

Chaeyoung's eyebrows inch up. “Jennie? As in Kim Jennie, the bully who hangs out with Jimin and her shady group of friends, and who also happens to hate our guts?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “Yes, that Jennie.”

"But why would she be there? I mean, unless she wanted to call us names, that is,” Chaeyoung scoffs.

"I don't think that was the case,” Lisa says unsure. “She was standing under the bleachers. It looked like she came to watch us in secret.”

"You've probably seen someone else then.” Chaeyoung waves her palm dismissively. “No one from Jimin's minions would ever attend our game, just to watch it. C'mon Lisa, think about it.”

Remembering the slurs Jimin throws their way at the school corridors, Lisa concludes that Chaeyoung is probably right.

Among her clique, Jimin is treated like some kind of guru. Lisa doesn't know whether it's because the girl is a daughter of a politician, or she simply exudes so much charisma, but she imagines that whatever opinions Jimin holds, they are treated like unspoken laws and rules of conduct by her 'followers'.

She heaves a sigh.

(It's stupid, and straight up delusional, but she really hoped that Jennie was different.)

"Wait...” Chaeyoung bounces back from the railing, mouth agape and eyes sparkling with realization.

"What?” Lisa frowns, not liking her friend's expression.

"Don't tell me you have a crush on that Jennie girl.”

"What?!” Lisa shrieks, tips of her ears turning bright red. “No way! I told you I don't have a crush on anyone.”

"Oh please,” Chaeyoung drawls, shooting her an unconvinced look. “Since you've already told me you're gay, you may just as well tell me who exactly makes your little gay heart flutter. We have plenty of drop-dead gorgeous girls at school. I can't believe no one has caught the attention of our Champ.”

Lisa drops her gaze to the floor, hiding her flushed cheeks behind the curtain of her blond hair. For some unfathomable reason, the only person that comes to her mind should never be mentioned in the context of such conversation.

(Yet, the image is startlingly vivid - stern and sullen face, with soft eyes and lush lips that send Lisa's mind into the realm of forbidden dreams.)

"Son S-seungwan,” she stammers the name of a girl who stands in stark contrast to the one whose image cannot leave her mind.

As expected, Chaeyoung isn't buying it.

"The choir girl?”

"Y-yeah, she's pretty and talented,” Lisa continues to lie, avoiding her friend's gaze.

Chaeyoung chuckles lightly. “It's okay. You can tell me whenever you're ready.”

Lisa opens , but she doesn't know how to refute her friend's statement, again.

(When it comes to words, Chaeyoung always wins.)

Below them Jisoo announces in a drunken slur that she has won another beer pong championship. At the same time, Momo shouts something about cheating (at least, that's what Lisa assumes based on her limited knowledge of Japanese).

"Seems like Jisoo will no longer bother you,” Chaeyoung remarks, amused. “Let's go back, shall we?”

Lisa nods, deciding that being left alone with her own thoughts didn't do her any good, and together they return to their friends.

The party, however, has significantly lost on its earlier intensity.

Jisoo lies passed out on the couch, an empty beer bottle dangling from her hand. Next to her sits Momo, holding a bowl of crisps and staring into distance, as if her soul has left her body. In the corner, beside a potted fig tree, Yuna sobs, apologizing in hiccups about some irrelevant past mistakes.

"I'm sor--ry I've lost your no--tes. I didn't me--an to.”

"But you've found them the next day,” Hyejeong says, rubbing Yuna's back in a comforting manner.

Choa seconds her with fierce nods of her head.

Not sure whether to feel concerned or amused by the picture, Lisa turns to Chaeyoung for help.

The girl instantly dispels her worries with a grin.

"They'll be fine, trust me,” she assures then skips to the glass table where her laptop lies.

After a few gentle taps against the keyboard, the room comes to life with a subtle electronic tune and airy vocals. Lisa's favorite song. She smiles at Chaeyoung who joins her in the middle of the room and together they sway to the steady, melancholic beat.

And as Lisa listens to the song's lyrics, spelling hesitance and confusion, she can't stop thinking about a certain pair of soft eyes.
 

* * *

Jennie runs, catching searing breaths through parched lips. Drops of sweat trickle down her temples and pain rips at her muscles, but she doesn't stop.

(She cannot.

She has been noticed.

She shouldn't have gone there.)

Risking a glance over her shoulder, she looses her balance, boots skidding against the gravel, and she falls to the ground. She tastes dirt in and feels her palms sting.

A quiet rustle of leaves makes her turn around in haste. With frantic eyes, she scans the path ahead of her.

But this part of the forest is empty - the warm spring breeze her only companion. No one else is there to witness her humiliation. And yet, she cannot shake the feeling of being observed.

Letting out a shaky breath, she falls back to the ground. The sky stretches above her in beautiful pastel pink hues.

(She just wanted to watch.

Just one game.

Was that too much to ask?)

She swallows the tears that clog and stands up from the ground. Dusting off her leather jacket, she decides to go home and change her clothes before going to Jimin's place.

She'll be late. But it's easier to come up with an excuse for tardiness than to answer questions about her disheveled state and bloodied palms.

(They would probably laugh at her, too.)

Before she leaves, she looks one last time into the direction of the school's stadium.

(She cannot see it from here.

But the feeling of being observed persists.)
 

* * *

“Jennie, is that you?”

Her mother calls out from the kitchen when she enters the house.

She lets the silence answer for her as she shuffles upstairs to her room, hoping her mother is busy enough not to strike up another pointless conversation with her.

No such luck, though...

“Jennie?”

Hearing her mother's concerned voice, Jennie stops halfway up the stairs, but doesn't turn around.

She sighs in frustration. “What?”

“Could you at least look at me when I talk to you?”

Rolling her eyes, Jennie slowly turns to face her mother.

“Happy now?”

The woman's eyebrows furrow, though more in worry than sternness, as she wipes her wet hands on her apron.

“You are late. Where have you been?”

“With Bobby at the park,” Jennie lies with practiced ease.

(It was difficult at the beginning.

Now, it has become her second nature.)

“You could at least message me that you will be late. I was worried.”

“I ran out of money on my phone,” Jennie states flatly.

The woman sighs, shaking her head. Her eyes are soft and tired, and they don't seem to recognize Jennie anymore.

(Jennie considers this a success.)

“I heard there was a game today,” her mother speaks up, voice careful as if treading on thin ice. “Maybe next time, you could go with Bobby--”

“He hates soccer,” Jennie cuts off harshly and spins around to continue her march up the stairs.

“Jennie, wait. Jennie!”

Impassive to her mother's calls, Jennie slams the door to her room shut and rests her forehead against it.

She's tired. Tired of listening to the same conversations, full of the same arguments laced with the same amount of hope, over and over again.

She'd imagined that by now her mother would have given up already, like her father did. He has settled on demanding good grades, and commented their arguments with silent shakes of his head.

Her mother, however, still cannot accept her choice. And Jennie cannot understand why it is such a big deal, in the first place.

(After all, it's just a stupid game.)

Dragging fingers through her hair, Jennie takes off her dirty jacket and throws it onto the bed. Involuntarily, her gaze drops to the yellow box peeking from underneath the bed, as if mocking her.

(Her personal Pandora's box.

Full of treacherous nostalgia.)

Coming up to the bed, she kicks the box to hide it and makes a mental note to throw it away later. 

This time for good.
 

* * *

Since Jimin is a daughter of a respected politician, Jennie's mother never opposed their friendship. Therefore, whenever Jennie says she goes to the girl's place for a sleepover, the woman has no qualms against letting her go.

What Jennie's mother doesn't know, however, is that Jimin's reputation isn't as pristine as her father's, and that 'the sleepovers' consist mainly of drinking alcohol at Jimin's summerhouse located just outside the city.

Jennie arrives there alone by bus, still vexed about her own lateness.

Pulling her jacket closer to herself, she steps through a small gate. The lights in the cabin are on and a thumping rhythm comes muffled through its thin walls.

Jennie doesn't knock, simply pushing the door open.

“Heey, babe!” Bobby's gruff voice greets her. He just happened to pass by right in front of the door when she entered. “I thought you wouldn't make it.”

“Sorry, mom was being a , as usual.” Jennie shrugs, shoving hands to the pockets of her jacket as she looks around the small place.

Behind the kitchen bar, Seolhyun chugs tequila shots served by Hanbin. Chanmi cheers her on, while Mina immortalizes the whole feat with her phone. Nothing new.

“Has Jimin asked about me?” Jennie asks conversationally.

Bobby snorts at her question.

“Try to talk with someone's tongue shoved up your throat.” He his head, pointing the couch behind him.

Jennie spots the making out couple. Jimin sitting on Junhoe's lap as they devour each other's mouth. He paws at her legs, making her black skirt ride up and expose her thighs.

Jennie tears her gaze away and looks back at Bobby; vaguely aware that her palms clench into fists.

“They're going at it for the past half an hour,” her boyfriend whines. “Yo! Told you to get a room!” he shouts, but the couple doesn't even flinch.

“Jealous much?” Jennie smirks, arching a challenging brow.

Bobby mimics her expression as he steps closer. They fall against the door, kissing. His lips are dry and stiff, but Jennie accepts them readily. When his hands become too bold, though, sliding up her skirt, she pulls away. Much to his displeasure, which she promptly disregards.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she says, stepping aside.

Bobby's bunny teeth sparkle in an eager grin.

“Okay.” He turns to follow her, but she puts a firm hand onto his chest.

“Alone.”
 

* * *

Blood drips down her palms, staining a white porcelain sink. The small gashes from her earlier fall tore open under the pressure of her nails.

(It was okay, a step up from bearable, until his hands ventured too far.)

She unscrews the tap and coats her hands in a generous amount of soap. The white foam turns faint red, and she observes the process as an excuse to avoid her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

She keeps her palms under the cold water until the bleeding stops. Afraid to stain the white towel, she uses the toilet paper to wipe her hands dry. Leaving the bathroom, she bumps right into Jimin.

“.” She flinches, hand flying to grip at her chest. “Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

Jimin only stares at her, a smirk curling the edges of her glossy lips. She's in a perfectly composed state. No signs of her earlier activities visible. It's only when she steps closer, and the light from the bathroom illuminates her face, that Jennie notices her eyes looking darker and more intense than ever.

(She fights the sudden urge to swallow.)

“I almost thought you wouldn't honor us with your presence, today,” Jimin remarks.

And Jennie cannot quite tell whether she's joking, or she actually has something against her.

After knowing each other for almost half a year, Jennie feels that the more time she spends with Jimin, the less she can be sure of what's going through her head.

Jimin is quick to express her disdain and animosity towards people she doesn't tolerate, but in the presence of her friends, it's indifference and flippancy that mostly dominate her character. Mostly, because at times, she can be quite unpredictable.

(Sometimes Jennie thinks it's easier to be Jimin's enemy than her friend.

But she wouldn't dare to test that theory on herself.

Jimin can be also cruel, if she wants to.)

“I wouldn't do that to you, guys. I know you'd miss me too much,” Jennie counters, sporting a smug grin of her own.

One thing that Jennie has learned about the girl is that confidence is the key to stay on her good side.

Jimin snorts under her breath, like she doesn't buy Jennie's bravado, but it entertains her anyway.

“Of course we would,” she affirms easily and steps past Jennie, entering the bathroom.

Only after she hears a distinct click of closing doors, does Jennie relax, glad that the girl didn't ask questions, nor noticed her wounded hands. However, before she leaves the dark corridor, she cannot resist the urge to glance over her shoulder.

(The doors are closed.

No one observes.)

With a sharp inhale, she goes back to the main room. The moment she steps through its threshold, Chanmi approaches her, arms crossed at her chest and a frown marring her otherwise delicate features.

“Could you ask your boyfriend to stop acting like a jerk?” the girl asks in her whiny voice.

Jennie looks over her shoulder at Bobby who spins a green beer bottle in his hand.

“C'mon, just one game. What's the harm?” he throws the question, sweeping his smiling eyes over each gathered person.

“What game?” Jennie turns to Chanmi and the look she gets from the younger girl makes her feel stupid for asking.

“Spin the bottle, duh?”

Jennie groans. Bobby is known for his dumb ideas, which get only dumber once he's drunk, but even in his tipsy state, he should know better than to propose such game.

“I'm not kissing girls,” Mina states from her spot on the kitchen counter, the phone still in her palm.

“Why? Guys are gonna kiss, too,” Bobby says and puckers his lips to the camera.

Mina recoils, throwing a crisp at him. For some reason, Seolhyun finds the whole situation incredibly hilarious as she falls into a drunken giggling fit, bending over the counter.

“What the hell, dude?” Junhoe snarls, arms spread in pretense.

“Bro, think about it. You could witness those two making out.” Bobby points the bottle first at Jennie then at Mina.

A mixture of anger and embarrassment crawls along Jennie's skin, making it prickle with unwanted heat.

“Shut up Bobby,” she growls between gritted teeth. “It's not funny.”

“Hey, I heard the soccer team is having a party at Chaeyoung's place,” Mina chimes in with a sneer. “Maybe you should try your luck there.”

“I bet Chaeyoung is a dyke, together with Manoban,” Chanmi remarks, smirking at Mina as they mentally high-five each other.

“Aren't they all a bunch of lesbians, basically?” Hanbin, who was a passive listener up until this point, concludes mockingly.

Mina, Chanmi and Junhoe laugh at his words, as if they were a pinnacle of comedy. Jennie forces a chuckle, before gulping down the tightness that grips at .

“Y'all need to chill and play the game with me.” Bobby continues, unaffected. “Hopefully, sharing some sweet lady kisses.”

Jennie is about to snap at him again, maybe even slap his stupid grinning face, when all of a sudden, Jimin enters the room. She saunters up to Bobby, takes the bottle from his hand and flings it at the floor.

Jennie flinches at the sound of shattering glass, and Chanmi cowers behind her, clutching her arm. Mina's phone turns from a camera into a convenient distraction, while Seolhyun's eyes regain some semblance of sobriety.

Bobby just stares blankly at the glass shards scattered under his feet.

“Chanmi, could you be so kind and clean the mess Bobby made?” Jimin drones as she goes behind the bar to grab herself a drink.

The girl nods meekly and scuttles to the bathroom to get a dustpan and a broom.

“June, change the song to something less annoying, please?”

The electronic tune and soft vocals are promptly replaced by a more upbeat song.

(Jennie prefers the previous one.

It was oddly relaxing.

But it's not like it matters, anyway.)

After Chanmi cleans the mess, no one brings up the topic of games or the soccer team.

The atmosphere relaxes significantly as everyone fall back into a pattern of drinking, dancing and pointless conversations.

Jennie, however, doesn't speak with Bobby through the rest of the night. He tries to coax her with heartfelt apologies, admitting to acting like a jerk, but each such attempt is met with Jennie's hard glares.

Soon enough, the alcohol becomes her remedy for the burning feeling of humiliation.

Jimin passes her a glass after glass, and lets her sleep on the couch once everyone leaves. Jennie finds it uncharacteristically sympathetic, as well as ironic.

(If only she knew...)

TBC
 

Author's Note: So here it is, the first chapter of my new project. As you can probably tell already, it's gonna be quite diffrent from my previous JenLisa story. That's why, I'm really curious about your first impressions. Let me know what you think in the comments, and see you in the next chapter! ^^