Find a Penny, Pick Her Up

Chapter 27

I spent the weekend quite literally hiding in my room; to say I was mortified to ever see Hampton again was an understatement.

But as I so cruelly experienced in the past year's events, life goes on. And that's exactly what I kept telling myself as I passed Shirley that morning, propped upright and waiting for me.

As Mom so casually mentioned over dinner the night before, she didn't need her car the following day, so I was free to take it to school if I didn't feel like riding Shirley. I took her up on it.

I flicked on my blinker, waiting at a stop light. If one good thing came out of completely humiliating myself yesterday and being turned down by Royal high's celebrity, it was getting back in the driver's seat. And taking a step – no, a leap, forward in life. I pulled into school, parking away from other cars. I couldn't stay rooted in the past, anymore. I had to keep moving.

Just like that first day of school months prior, I ducked my head and prayed I wouldn't see Hampton. Or he wouldn't see me. I mean – why wasn't I talked down to? Why didn't someone say, "hey, Penny, maybe don't drive to Hampton's house unannounced and practically beg to be together." I shook my head to somehow shake the thought away, pulling open the doors to Royal high.

As I made my way to my locker, running through all the ways I would avoid seeing you-know-who, I stopped in my tracks, eyes falling on her.

Annie stood ramrod straight in front of Jack's memorial, face utterly blank and pale and ghost-like. But I knew better; it was pain. For the first time ever, I saw how she felt. I saw her mourning her boyfriend's death, not my own mistakes or her mistakes or even Jack's mistakes.

"Annie?" It came out of my mouth before I had time to think, and my feet stepped closer without permission. She looked at me, and for the first time in a long time, it didn't look like she hated me.

I joined her without another word, and together we looked at the numerous portraits and awards and group photos with Jack, almost as if we were waiting for something to happen. For him to come around the corner, laughing about something that happened that weekend or in practice. But the same chatter of surrounding students bounced around us, and we stood quiet in the midst of it all.

"It was my fault," she said. "All my fault."

I found myself shaking my head. The bell rang for class, but neither of us moved.

She turned to me, anger flashing in her blue eyes. "I'm the one who forced you to drive. I'm the one who made Jack come in the car with us, and who was such a bitch to you in the car that I didn't even notice him get out–" I wrapped my arms around her shaking shoulders, her tears falling faster than her racing heartbeat. "I'm the reason we're not friends anymore. I'm the reason he's dead." Her last sentence hung in the air, suffocating the molecules around us.

I sucked in a breath, holding her. "It's all our fault. I'm just as much to blame as you are." I paused. "And so is Jack." She pulled away from me, her red-rimmed eyes dripping with tears. By that point, we were alone in the hallway. Class was underway.

I folded my arms, then unfolded them. "I think. . ." I searched for the right words. "I think I was so caught up in my own grief that I didn't think about anyone else. I didn't think about what you were going through, or what his friends were going through, or literally anyone else who knew him."

"It's not like I let you," she said in a tiny voice, sniffling. "I–"

"Sweetie? Are you okay? Why aren't you in class?" Mrs. Prickett exited her office, a softened look on her face that turned hard when she saw me. Glancing between both me and her daughter, she drew a conclusion.