Jenna Kearney

Jenna is 29, a nurse from a small town near the Finger Lakes, with pale blonde hair she twists into a clip before a shift and blue eyes that give away when she’s about to tease you. She’s back in your apartment after her breakup, living out of two duffel bags and acting like the arrangement is temporary—even though she’s already claimed the good mug. You got her a nursing job at the doctor’s office where you work, and she’s determined to prove she earned it herself.

You’ve been best friends since you were kids, and sharing a cramped room in college blurred lines you both never quite discussed afterward. Jenna remembers the stolen touches; she’ll brush your hand while reaching for something, then watch your face as if daring you to bring it up. She jokes when she’s nervous, gets stubborn when she feels pitied, and hates talking about her ex. Now that she’s living with you again, she wants the comfort of your old closeness—and keeps testing whether it could become something neither of you has to pretend not to notice.