You're My Sol

Chapter 4

I started packing up my stuff to head home. Marisol dropped her bag down right next to mine. "Hey, Penny."

"Penelope."

"Penny." She smirked.

"Penelope."

"Penny."

I sighed. "What do you want."

"I win!" Marisol gloated. "Anyway, are you heading to the bus?"

I shook my head. "I walk home."

Marisol beamed. She her smile was brighter than the sun. I shook my head. What was I thinking?

"That works out, because I walk home too! Wanna come with?"

No. But we were aquaintances, right? Ugh, I was so conflicted. On the one hand, she really annoyed me. She was too friendly, too perfect. At the same time, I didn't want to lose my only chance of not being alone.

"Sure," I smiled brightly. Two could play at the being too happy game. 

She grinned again. "Let's head out," Marisol said. She picked up her bag and waited for me.

I pulled my bag up on my shoulder and we started walking together.

"What way do you normally go?" I asked her.

"I head left down Denwood Place and then take a right off of Brook Street and then my house is down Fort Ave.," she said.

I stared at her. "Wait, really? My house is also on Fort Ave."

She laughed. "We really can't get away from each other!"

We walked down the street, talking about school and how she was adjusting to the new town.

"Well it's a lot colder here. California doesn't exaclty have winter," she said.

"Where'd you live in California?" I asked.

"SoCal. Specifically San Diego," she said.

I was intrigued. I always wanted to go to California. "What was it like there?"

She smiled. "So nice. I really miss it. The beaches were pretty and I had a bunch of friends. We would hang out all the time and have sleepovers and go out..." She looked so sad. I frowned.

"Hey, it's ok. We're aquaintences, remember? So you can have fun here. It'll be great!"

She looked at me quizzically. "Ok."

Shit. I didn't really want to be her friend... but she just looked so sad. Despite what others might have thought, I still felt empathy.

We kept walking down the street. Just as we turned onto Brook Street, Marisol said, "you know, I really think you should give Ashlynn, Kate, Jessica, and Sarah another chance. They're really nice and they probably don't care about what happened in eighth grade, it was so long ago and--"

"Nothing happened," I cut her off shortly. "We just grew apart."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. After a minute, she hummed in agreement.

Oh what, did she not believe me? Was I untrustworthy? Or did my old friends talk about me behind my back? Was it Ashylnn? She's always been such a gossip anyway.

"Well," Marisol said, breaking the silence. "We're here."

We stood in front of a dark green house. It was pretty, and looked fairly old. The shutters were a dark gray and there were curtains pulled aside from inside the house. An old brass knocker adorned the front door. It was elegant.

I stole a glance towards Marisol.

It didn't really fit her; she was more bubbly. A yellow house would suit her better.

"Bye!" I waved as she took out her keys and opened the front door.

She gave me a short wave then entered the house without another word. Was she angry at me?

I sighed, walking down towards my house. She probably was. I was being so rude. I couldn't help it though, sometimes anger just overcame me. And I got angry when someone brought up how alone I was.

That was a topic anyone would be sensitive about.

I reached my house and pulled out my keys. Walking in, I slipped off my shoes. 

"I'm home!" I called to whoever may have been listening.

"Shut up!" Andrew called from his room. Andrew was my older brother. He was a senior now, yet he was still just as mature as a middle schooler.

I made my way to my room and pulled out my precalc homework to study for my test. After twenty minutes of staring at the page, I buried my head in my hands. The numbers swam before my eyes. I didn't understand any of this. Despite how hard I worked in class, I just didn't get it.

I was saved from further studying by my mom calling us down for dinner. I walk down the stairs and slip into the kitchen.

Dinner was always awkward. We sat there silently, pushing the food around on our plates. We were eating meatloaf, peas, and water. Yeah, bland. That was my family for you.

"So, Andrew, how was school today?" My mom asked, trying to goad conversation out of my brother.

He grunted, looking down at his plate.

"What did you say, sweetie?" My mom tried again.

"Fine," he said between a mouthful of meatloaf.

"Oh..." my mom smiled faintly. "That's great dear."

We sat there in silence for a moment.

"And what about you, Penelope?" My mom asked, turning to me.

"What do you mean?" I said, putting on my perfect-voice. I didn't try to, it just became a habit. Now I was scared to talk without it.

"How was your day?"

"Oh!" My face lit up. I jumped at an opportunity to make my parents proud. This was one such opportunity. "It was great! Classes were fun, as usual." I chuckled. "I had precalc and it was great! Lunch was same-old same-old." They didn't know I sat alone. "I even had a really good sanwich today!" I didn't eat today. "And in English my teacher said everyone should act more like me. And then we had track for the first time today! I did really good, I was way faster than everybody else!" I finished, beaming.

My mom smiled. "That's great sweetie, I'm so glad you're happy." Me too, Mom. Me too.

After dinner Andrew and I were on dishwashing detail. I put some dish soap on a bowl and got to scrubbing.

"My English teacher said everyone should act more like me," Andrew said in a high pitched tone.

I froze.

"I did really good, I was way faster than everybody else!" He continued.

My vision got blurry.

"I am soooo perfect, I love being--"

I slammed the sponge down on the counter. "If you want me to stop being so perfect, then you can do the damn dishes by yourself," I said, scowling.

Then I turned and ran up to my room so he wouldn't see the hot tears falling down my cheeks.