I wrestle with it for a few seconds, muttering under my breath, before giving up and yanking the thing over my head instead, sachlicing by hair to static electricity in the process.
At least I’m moving. That counts for something.
The house feels too quiet around me that kind of heavy silence that only exists when you’re really, truly alone. No clatter of dishes from the kitchen, no Dad cursing the coffee maker, no Mom humming off-key to some forgotten ‘s song. Inst me, my own breathing, and the low, lazy creak of the house settling.
They’re still at the conference, probably buried under endless panels and handshakes and those weird belge hatet breakfasts that all like sadness.
I shove a granola bar into my hag and glance at the clock blinking unapologetically from the oven- 4:12 AM. If I don’t get moving soort, I’m going to miss second period too, and after everything yesterday, skipping an entire day feels dangerously close to giving up
Not happening.
I jam my ballet flats into the side pocket of my bag, shove my phone into my hoodie pocket, and wrestle my hair into something that could maybe pass for intentionally messy if no one looks too closely.
But even as my hands move through the motions, my mind keeps stuttering back to last night.
Not the worst parts not the sidewalk or the shouting but the moment after.
The second I wasn’t alone anymore.
Asher.
His name unspools in my head without permission, bringing a whole mess of feelings with it I don’t know how to fold neatly away.
I remember the way he stood between me and the dark, the way his presence felt like a wall- rough, solid, absolutely immovable.
I remember the way he looked at me afterward-like I was an idiot. Like he hated that I needed saving.
Maybe he did.
I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me even though the house isn’t cold.
It’s stupid, getting hung up on him.
He’s not safe.
He’s not soft.
Tyler is
Tyler is warm hands and easy smiles and showing up with extra whipped cream just because he knows I like it. Tyler is good mornings and good nights and every steady thing I’ve ever been lucky enough to hold onto.
I love him.
I do. sometimes the world feels so much bigger than the little bones we try in live inside.
I shake my head hard, physically trying to push the thought away, and zip my hug closed with more force than necessary.
Today is supposed to be good.
I nailed my audition for the Spring Gala yesterday
The judges didn’t just nod – they smiled. A real, terrifying, blink-and-you-miss-it smile that means more than a thousand standing ovations,
I’m proud of that.
I deserve to be. tagging my sneakers on when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I fish it out, expecting maybe a text from Mila or Tyler but it’s not.
Mom
I swipe to answer, balancing on one foot. “Hey, Mom.”
“Good morning, honey! Are you up? Please tell me you’re up.”
I laugh, grabbing the doorframe to steady myself. “I’m up. Banely.”
“How’s my favorite ballerina feeling?” she asks, her voice bright but with that undertone of worry y she t tries to hide badly.
“Sare. Tired. But okay. The auditions went really well!”
She hums, clearly trying not to hover through the phone line. “Dad and I were just talking about you. We’re so proud, Penny.”
My throat tightens unexpectedly.
“We know you could do it,” she continues. “And no matter what happens with the final Gala list, you should be so proud of yourself. You’ve already won, honey.”
I lean my forehead against the cool wood of the doorframe and close my eyes.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, quieter than I mean to
“We love you. So, so much.”
“I know.”
There’s background noise – the clink of plates/a waiter asking if they need more coffee – and suddenly I can picture them perfecting in some bland hotel dining room hundreds of miles away, still finding time to think about me,
“Text me after your classes?” si she says.
“We’ll see you in a few days! Love you!”
“Love you lon
I hang up and tack my phone back into my pocket.
The house is still too quiet, but somehow it doesn’t feel quite as empty anymore.
I pull my bag over my shoulder, shove my earbuds in, and head for
Outside, the city is already humming-cats blurring past, someone shouting about a sale there blocks mer, the subway rumbling under the pavement like a heartbeat
I slip into the flow of it without thinking, letting the noise and the motions canty pr
My body still aches
Last night still lingers in the back of my mind, sharp and raw.
But it’s not everything.
It’s not even most things.
I sed my audition.
I have people who love me. still here, still standing, still moving forward.
And today –
Today is mine, brother
By the time I get to school, I’m regretting every life choice that led me here.
My bag ferls heavier than it should probably full of emotional baggage anil hall-eaten granola bars and my sneakers squeak with every step like they’re personally offended I’m making them work this hand. The air still has that moming sharpness, too, biting at my cheeks and making my fingers stiff,
I adjust the strap of my hag and weave through the courtyand, trying not to look like someone whi’s Internally screaming. Groups of students cluster around the steps, jackets half zipped, coffee cups in hand, moving in slow, lazy ripples like schools of half-conscious fish,
And there right there near the steps is Tyler.
For a second, I just watch him.
He’s standing with a loose circle of guys ys from his soccer team the usual suspects, messy hair and team jackets and half-laced cleats like they’re allergic to doing anything properly. He’s laughing about something, head tipped back, easy and unguarded in that way that always mada’ me like him before I even realized I loved him.
It should make me feel better.
And it does, mostly.
At least until I notice who else is standing nearby.
Rebecca and Zoe
Leaning against the railing like they own the place, coffee cups in hand, side-eyeing me like they’re auditioning for a reboot of Mean Girls nobody asked for
For a second, my feet st
Some traitorous part of me wants to turn around, pretend I didn’t see anything, go crawl back into bed and binge baking shows until melts. my brain
Today is supposed to be good.
Today is mine
I square my shoulders and head straight for Tyler.
When he sees me, his whole face lights up. no hesitation – no
-no guilty look, no awkward shuffling past pure, easy happiness at seeing me
There’s no
My chest loosens in a way I didn’t realize it was tight
He steps away from the group without a second thought, arms open, and wraps and into a hug that’s warm and solid and just a little too tight. like he’s trying to glue all my broken pieces back together without knowing where the cracks are.
And then, without even giving me time to think, he presses a kiss to my forehead – soft, real, grounding.
“Congrats, Penny,” he says, smiling down at me like I’m the only thing in this stupid noisy courtyard that matters. “You did it. Now its
I grin up at him, the tension draining out of my muscles like a slow exhale.
“Thanks,” uy, my voice a little breathless than I mean for it to be
It would be perfect except, of course, life never lets me have anything perfect for more than thirty seconds.
Because when I glance past his shoulder, Hebecca is watching us with a look that could kill crops,
And Zoe’s whispering something behind her hand, both of them laughing that tight, sharp laugh that feels almed right at the hollow of my spine.
I want to roll my eyes so hard they fall out of my head.
Instead, I just lean a little closer to Tyler, resting my chin briefly against his chest like I couldn’t care less about percent true, honestly it them – which is about eighty
Tyler either doesn’t notice the girls or doesn’t care, because he squeezes my shoulders and tugs me toward the building.
“C’mon,” he says. “We’re gonna be late.”
He tosses a casual goodbye over his shoulder to the guys, doesn’t even glance at the girls, and walks me toward the doors with his arm still draped around me like it belongs there.
And honestly?
For a secunda real second- it feels like nothing is wrong in the world.
Tyler keeps his am smug around my shoulders, navigating us through the hallway like it’s no big deal, like carrying me through his space is second nature.
Maybe it is
We dodge a kid sprinting full-speed toward the cafeteria-probably trying to beat the end of breakfast – and Tyler leans down a little, voice low next to my ear.
“So,” he says, “how was it? Yesterday?”
I glance up at him, and the warmth in his smile makes my chest ache in a way I can’t quite namo.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.