Taking a breath, I compel myself to relax, pull up my usual easy tone. “It’s a good idea. Let’s do it.”
I need to figure this the fuck out. Until I do, I’ve got to keep as much emotional distance from Pen as I can.
Twenty-Three
JuneBug:We’re taking off soon. I’ll miss you, Penny Lane!
Penny:Me too. I wish you didn’t have to go. I love having you guys with me. Safe flight.
MayDay:I hate that we have to go back to class! WHYYYYY???? Love you, Pennywise! Give our bro a big ol’ kiss will you?
PennyWise:uh-huh
MayDay:Srsly. Kiss him! Bet he melts into a puddle of jock-goo
PennyWise:That sounds disgusting
JuneBug:I agree; kissing August is disgusting.
MayDay:Yeah, but someone has to do it. Might as well be Pen
PennyWise:I’m not kissing August
JuneBug:What never?
MayDay:Or hardly ever?
PennyWise:BYE!
MayDay:Mwah!
Augie:Safe flight, brats
MayDay:Good game, noob
JuneBug:Take care of our Penny
Augie:Of course
MayDay:I swear to G, Aug, if you don’t tap that and wrap it up in a bow, I’m gonna be pissed at you forever
Augie:March? Did you steal Thing 2’s phone?
MayDay:So even our goober brother agrees? Should tell you something, bro-ho
Augie:Bro-ho? Simmer down there, mini March
JuneBug:May’s colorful suggestion aside, be careful, Aug. It’s Penny. She’s special
Augie:I know
Pen
The girls go home. Weeks pass. October rushes toward November. I attend August’s games, and we go out for dinners so the press can take pictures. But August has become increasingly busy. It isn’t a surprise; he warned me his schedule was nonstop. And, really, we aren’t a real couple. What personal time he has should be spent with his actual friends.
The thought hurts. More than is safe. Somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself we were real friends.
“No, we are,” I mutter, pacing my empty kitchen. “Weare.”
