-thirty-one

Jenna eyes darted round the balcony for the third time. She rubbed her lips together and shoved her hand into the pocket of her pullover before turning to look at me again.

"Listen, if you've come to tell-."

"I just want to spend the last hours I have in this fucking state with my best friend before we're continents apart, and not the woman Harry says he kissed in missionary."

The silence that followed my words was strained, cautious, conflicting. Jenna turned to the passing cars and lit her cigarette. I couldn't tell if it was the crusty, naked flame of the lighter or her next words that brought water to her eyes.

"I don't know how to say it so you'll believe that-."

"I can't feel guilty and say anything if I know nothing, Jenna." I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear as breezes of wind enveloped us. "I don't want to know. Whatever it is with Harry, that is your business."