Penny tilts her head back, smiles that polite, brittle little smile she’s been wearing since the second she decided to get off the bleachers.
“I think I’m just gonna head home,” she says. “Still sore from auditions,”
She says it soft. Easy. Like shes making excuses for herself before he even gets a chance to.
Tyler pouts – actually pouts like he’s
‘s the one getting left behind.
-“But pizza plans,” he whines. how’ goddamn stupid he sounds. I haven’t known this girl for that long, and I feel like I stare at him, wondering if he hears himself. If he knows she’s an open book. All you need is to look at her for more than a second and her eyes will tell you everything you need to know. Those big, green eyes that drive me fucking insane because they’re too trusting, too sad, too expressive, too… I don’t even fucking know,
Penny just smiles tighter, smaller. “You should stay. Go have fun.”
I look at my brother, hoping that he’ll get the hint that his girl is feeling anything but happy, that he’ll understand that he should call this whole game off and make her feel better the way he should.
He hesitates for half a second, probably debating whether staying with the fun crowd or walking her home is less work.
Then that brunette girl calls him-loud, sharpy bright and the decision is made for him.
Tyler leans down, kisses Penny quick on the lips like he’s clocking out of a shift, and jogs back to the game without even looking twice.
I watch Penny.
Not Tyler
Her.
The way her shoulder snå.
The way her fingers tighten on the strap of her bag like it’s the only thing holding her together.
She just stands there a second longer than she needs to looking after him, and then the turns, head down, walking toward the parking lot like she’s trying to disappear.
And I stand there, watching her leave, fists clenched in my pockets.
Should turn around, take Tyler’s stupid car, drive the hell away. Because less than twenty-four hours ago I told myself that this girl didn’t matter. I don’t care about people, not really. There’s right and wrong, safe and unsafe, and that’s it. Getting attached means getting hurt when it gets taken away from you.
So, yeah, I should just let her go
But I don’t.
Not quietly this time.
Boots hitting the floor harder than I need to, making sure she hears me. Making sure she kumes someone’s behind her. Making sure the don’t make it easy for someone wpise.
She doesn’t turn around.
Just keeps walking, slower now, shoulders still under her hoodie, the loour strands of her hair trembling where they catch the draft from the cracked-open doors,
She slips inside the athletic building all hollow walls, bright overhead lights, and the lingering stink of rubber and sweat.
Doesn’t even glance back.
There’s a bench along the wall. She drops onto it like her body’s given up, elbows on her knees, backpack sliding to the floor with a soft thud.
I stop a few steps away, hands shoved deep in my pockets.
Watching her.
Breathing slower than I need to.
She looks up, eyebrows pinched.
“What are you doing?” she asks,
Not scared. Just tired. Like dealing with me is just one more thing she doesn’t have the energy for today.
I don’t answer.
I don’t have one.
What do I tell her?
That I have a weird fucking o obsession with the way she walks like she’s carrying the weight of the world!
That in a world where I want to rip everyone apart just to feel something, she’s the only thing I want to keep safe?
I stare at her.
She stares back.
She sighs, soft, almost lost in the echo of the building.
Asher, we just met, right? You don’t even know me.
She’s not accusing.
Just stating facts.
I tilt my head a little, studying her. Waiting for the rest..
She picks at the hem of her sleeve, voice dropping so low I almost miss it.
“So… what do you think of me?
Her cheeks flush, and the rushes on, stumbling over her words.
“I mean, I know you think I’m a princess and I’m stupid and I’m not careful and…” She that do I think of her?
I think if I touched her hair, it would lose its shine.
I laid a hand on her skin, it would burn under my fingers. shrugs, messy and embarrassed. “Never mind “
I think she’s made of all the things the rest of us aren’t light and softness and impossible kindness and if I got too close. I’d stain her ruin her without even trying.
I think if she knew half the things I’ve done, half the things I’ve wanted, she’d never sit this close to me again.
I think I’m already so far gone its pathetic.
I don’t say any of it.
I just stand there, heart thudding too hard against my ribs, feeling like I’m fighting every instinct I ever learned.
Instead, I say, “Why didn’t you tell him?”
Her forehead crinkles, “Tell who what?”
“Tyler,” I say, sharper than I mean to, “Why didn’t you tell him?”
She blinks at me, still not getting it.
“Tell him,” I grind out, “when he fucks up.”
Penny looks down at her hands, twisting her fingers together.
“It’s nut…” she starts, voice too soft. She takes a breath. “It’s not really wrong, what he’s doing. He’s just being nice. Friendly. He’s not trying to hurt me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood.
She doesn’t get it.
She’s making g excuses for him like it’s her job to forgive the things that are slowly bleeding her out.
“You think you can’t ask someone to stop their world for you?” I ask.
She shrugs, helpless.
“I can’t,” she says simply. “I’m not enough for that,”
Yes, you are
Goddammit, you are.
In my head, it’s a different conversation,
In my head, I’m grabbing her face in my hands and telling her she s supposed to be someone’s whole world, whether the think she deserves II. or not.
In my head, I’m telling her she should bear the place down when someone makes her feel small.
But I don’t say it.
I can’t just say, “Still. He should know it hurts you.
Penny exhales, slow and tired, and gets to her feet, grabbing for her hag.
“If you’re here to make me feel worse about myself,” she says, voice tight, “you’re doing a great job.”
She turns like she’s about to leave.
The panic rises so fast it almost chokes me.
“Don’t, I say.
She stops. step closer before I can talk myself out of it.
Keeping my voice even, low, rough.
“Come with me,” I say. “I’m fixing Tyler’s car. I’ll bring you home after.”
I don’t know why I say it.
Don’t know why I can’t just let her go.
All I know is I’m not ready to watch her walk away from me
Not now, now. Not today.
She hesitates, biting her lip.
Glances past me, toward the double doors leading back out to the field, where Tyler’s still laughing, still kicking a ball around like he’s not even missing anything.
She looks back at me.
Something flickers across her face- hesitation, maybe, Or trust, las not sure which is worse
“Okay,” she says finally.
She bends down to grab her bag, but I get there first, scooping it up before she cam
Her mouth opens like she’s going to protest.
I don’t give her the chance.
I sling it over my shoulder and start walking toward the parking lot, slow enough that she can stay beside me without running
Her footsteps are soft next to mine,
Smaller. Quieter.
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.