Best friends Frankie and Penelope have just arrived in the Valley seeking to escape the past. All they needed was each other and a fresh start. They make new friends and potentially find love. Unbeknownst to them, they stumble upon a war between two...
Quiet Saturdays were for writing. That was what Penelope believed at least.
Spellbound by the words as they carried her through the story, sometimes she forgot she was the one writing them. Other times, she felt as though she shouldn't be writing them at all. Whatever meaning they held either felt to sacred to write or just too stupid. It was why she hardly shared her stories with anyone, especially in the last year...
Hawk was the only person she let read any of her work, a mix of old and new. Though, sometimes, she was too embarrassed to show him the newer stuff. She felt like it wasn't as good as some of the stories or poems she'd written before. It still felt like she was missing something that had made her writing special, but she couldn't find it anymore. It hadn't stopped her, but it wasn't the same.
However, that didn't stop Hawk from loving it all. He complimented everything she let him read, applauded it, told her she was amazing. He made her blush with his praise and she thanked him sweetly each time, still unsure of how to react to his enthusiasm for her work.
But that did not last.
Once she had been released from the hospital, Penelope had found that words were hard to come by. She barely picked up a pen, but looked at the journals on her desk longingly. Though her heart tugged her toward their pages, she couldn't put the words in ink. She couldn't find them, though she looked hard. It eventually frustrated her so much, she threw herself into school work, then books, then whatever Sam or Demetri or Miguel was doing if they were free. Anything to distract her mind from the heart-aching loss of her creativity.
Then it came to her during breakfast, but she kept the aha moment to herself. She quietly finished her meal as the word mounted in her mind, steadily gaining traction until they were tall and large and screaming at her to be written down. However, she waited until her uncle and cousin left for town to do anything about it.
She made the living room cozy, with blankets and snacks and music, everything she needed at the ready. While her family was away running errands, she would take advantage of their absence, and as soon as she sat down, it was magical.
The words exploded from her fingertips. It was warm and colorful and spirited. There was no other feeling in the world like a love for words.
The fresh page before her was terrifying and wonderful at the same time; it was a world of possibilities. There were no limits, only bouts of self doubt, but they couldn't touch her today. It was a quiet Saturday and she was free to do as she pleased.
So she sat down and wrote to her heart's content, which wasn't nearly enough. She didn't know for how long she was there, crafting and pondering; looking up words and facts and trivia. Her new world, though it looked similar to the one she lived in, was her destination of exploration for the day and she planned on learning as much about it as possible.
Until the doorbell rang.
Though, it seemed to chime at a good time. Penelope's legs were beginning to cramp and she needed to stretch them. She also needed to refill her drink and get a new pack of peanut butter crackers, let herself take a moment to relax before she jumped back into her expedition.
Standing up, she wobbled a little. Some of her hair fell out of its top knot and into her face, but she brushed it away and tucked it behind her ear as she walked toward the front door. Though she wasn't expecting anyone, she felt a swell of excitement in the mystery that had come to her, wondering if it was any of her friends.
She thought one of them might have texted her, so she checked her phone first to see, but there were no new messages. It wasn't so strange, Saturdays were made for going out and doing or staying in to rest after a long week. So, if none of her friends were coming to see her or asking to hangout, she didn't think much of it. She briefly wondered what they were doing and how they were, but made it to the door before she couldn't complete those thoughts in full.
With a quick turn, she unlocked the door and grabbed the knob. Frankie's bat, that she never used to play baseball, still sat by the door, leaned up against the corner. It had collected dust in the months since they had moved in, but its presence gave the family some sense of security. Even still, Penelope only gave it a short glance before she opened the door.
She audibly gasped as she saw who it was, bringing a hand to her mouth in shock. Her heartbeat picked up, it soared. It pounded around in her chest as if she were a rabbit running for its life in the wild. Tears came to her eyes, her mind began to race. She didn't know what she was feeling, she couldn't process her thoughts.
It felt like everything came to a stop.
Staring back at her, Robby's eyes were sad, sorry, and scared.
End of Part One.
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And that's a wrap on Part One: Forbidden Secrets!
What did you think of this chapter? How are you feeling? Any concerns?
What's going to happen next for Frankie and Penelope? The answer: A lot.
