Find a Penny, Pick Her Up

Chapter 6

It was late one night, just after I finished dinner with my parents and retreated to my room, when he called. 

I stared at the caller ID for so long I was surprised it didn't go to voicemail. What could he possibly want? "Hello?" 

"Hi," his familiar voice, once comforting, reminded me of everything that had happened with us. His tone was soft, almost like he couldn't believe what was going on himself. 

"Justin," I swallowed, shifting in my bed and sitting up. My loose hair fell over my shoulders, hanging limp. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Nothing, I just..." he trailed off, and I heard him move. "I saw you sitting with Annie the other day. And I know you showed Hampton around."

What was this, some sort of confrontation? I pressed the phone harder to my ear. "So?" 

"I'm just trying to see if you're okay."

I paused. "Why wouldn't I be okay?" 

"C'mon, Pen," he sighed. "We're not playing this game." 

I pulled the blanket up over my lap. "I don't know what you're trying to do right now. You're first worried about me being an introvert, and now you're concerned that I was sitting with my old friends and helping a new student out?" 

He was quiet, and I was on a roll. It felt like I had a surge of energy. 

"What are you trying to get out of this, Justin?" I asked. "I mean, you call at least once a week and ask the same question." 

"I just...care about you," Justin said, his voice soft. "And I still love you." 

I shut my eyes, welcoming the darkness behind my eyelids. I knew he did. And I wished that I could say the same back, but the truth was, I felt like I didn't deserve to have love. Or be loved, the way he loved me. The disappointment and concern I'd seen on Justin's face after Eric's party was something I never wanted to see again - and I found myself being reminded of every bad decision I'd made leading up to the climax of that night. So I had to do the one thing I felt was best; I broke up with Justin a few weeks following the night my world exploded. 

"Penny?" he searched for a response. For anything, really. But I couldn't. Not then, not ever again. I didn't love him, and I had already broken enough people's hearts. I wasn't about to add Justin to the list. "Do you remember what I said to you that night?"

Did I remember? I remembered more than I wanted to. I rarely blacked out from alcohol, something that obviously proved to be a curse. I would do anything to forget the majority of that night. 

I shut my eyes, his breathing on the other side of the line bringing be back a few months. 

"He's over there," I grinned happily, my voice drowned by the music. Had it gotten louder? Definitely. 

"Joy," Annie muttered next to me, taking a swig of her drink. 

Heather approached us, growing equally as drunk as most of the junior class. "What took you guys so long? We missed you." Her high voice seemed to sound even more obnoxious, maybe having even reached a new octave. Or tone. The vodka seemed to be intercepting the firing neurons in my brain. Annie gave me a look, stifling a laugh at my dumbfounded expression and our private, mean joke. 

"What's so funny?" she asked, genuinely interested in what we were laughing at. "Is it Marcy Chapman's outfit? Did you see those shoes?" 

No, we had not seen her outfit. But we nodded fervently, dropping some comments to sell our story. She seemed content, giving us both a quick squeeze before losing her concentration and following a boy that passed her view.