"Jenny?" James called out, his voice filled with confusion. He had never seen her cry before. In all the times he and his father visited Debbie's house, Jenny was always cold, carrying an air of arrogance as if to make it clear he wasn't welcome.
Startled, Jenny quickly wiped her tears and straightened up, trying to mask her vulnerability. "What do you want, idiot?" she snapped, though her tone betrayed her usual sharpness.
Mark stood off to the side, observing. He could see through her facade easily, but it was James who pressed further, asking, "Were you crying?"
Jenny's eyes flashed with irritation, her defenses kicking in. "What the heck are you talking about, idiot? I just got some dust in my eyes. Don't be stupid."
James wasn't convinced. "But we really heard you—"
"I SAID I'M NOT CRYING!" Jenny snapped, her voice rising, cutting him off. "Do you really think I'm some weak woman who's gonna sob in a corner? Get real, idiot! That's why your Da—"
She was about to throw a deeper insult—something about his father—but stopped herself, biting her tongue. Insulting James about his dad's death would be too low, even for her.
For a moment, there was silence, tension crackling between them.
Mark, awkwardly standing by, had heard her almost cross that line, and he inwardly sighed in relief when she didn't. Jenny glanced over at Mark, her face flushed with embarrassment. The fact that Mark, of all people, had witnessed her in this state made her stomach twist in knots. He wasn't just any guy—he was someone who had piqued her interest, and now she feared what he thought of her.
Desperate to escape the situation, Jenny shot James a nasty look. "Don't even think about telling anyone I was crying, or I'll tell everyone how you wet the bed until you were in the sixth grade!"
Before she could escape, she shot a glare at James and said, "Stop saying nonsense about me crying! If you spread that rumor, I'll tell everyone you wet the bed until you were in sixth grade."
James's face turned a shade of pink. Despite knowing he had the upper hand, he couldn't risk Jenny spreading that particular rumor. He sighed, letting it go, even though part of him wanted to put her in her place.
As Jenny turned to leave through the kitchen door, Mark's gaze inadvertently fell on her jogging pants, which accentuated her curves in a way that was hard to ignore. He quickly averted his eyes, but the moment lingered.
Once the door closed behind her, James and Mark exchanged glances. James, feeling the weight of Jenny's earlier threat, coughed awkwardly. "Don't believe her. It was just a joke."
Mark raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto his face. "Oh really? Jenny did threaten to tell others. Could it be true?"
James replied hastily, "Come on, man! Do you really think someone would still wet their bed in sixth grade? Even if it is true, who hasn't peed in their bed as a kid?"
Mark chuckled. "You're right that some kids do it, but sixth grade? That's a bit old for that kind of stuff."
James, slightly hurt, tried to brush it off. "Seriously? I thought we just became friends, and now you don't even believe me?"
Mark laughed, shaking his head. "Okay, okay! No need to feel bad about it. We all have our embarrassing moments."
James murmured, "It's just that the way to the bathroom was really dark, so I had no choice but to wet the bed."
Just then, Diane called from the door, "Hey there, fellas! Debbie just made some sandwiches, and you might want to grab a bite."
James's stomach growled at the mention of food. The donuts earlier hadn't been enough.
Mark chuckled. "Looks like the timing couldn't be better, huh?" James rubbed his stomach, a bit embarrassed.
Mark shouted back to Diane, "Okay, we'll be there in a minute!" Diane responded with an approving gesture.
With that, the duo made their way to the dining area, eager to enjoy Debbie's sandwiches and escape the awkwardness of the moment.