The sun blazed down on the three of us, Ramona at my other side, as we headed toward a taco joint to pick up lunch for the shop, and I found myself frowning, eyes on the sidewalk in front of me, feeling like utter shit. Batshit, if I were being accurate, because my shit was crazy.
It had been three days, four texts, two phone calls, and a bottle of Patrón, and I found myself even further away from closure with Bodie than I had been on the night I last saw him.
His silence should have been enough to let me know how he felt. But instead, I’d been driven mad with a thousand questions that only he could answer.
“Have you heard from him?” Ramona asked, reading my mind.
“Nope.” I popped the P as my mood sank a little deeper.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “This just doesn’t even feel like him, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. But I seriously fucked it up. I just can’t help but wonder if that’s really it. Is it over? If I apologized, would it be okay? He won’t answer me though, so there’s not really anything I can do. I just wish I knew. I wish I had a chance to find out.”
Veronica frowned but said nothing.
I rambled on. “I’m so frustrated and butthurt and mental over it. I wonder if he’s doing it on purpose? Freezing me out to punish me?”
Veronica squeezed my arm. “Bodie wouldn’t do that. I’m sure he’s just busy. Don’t they have that video game thing coming up?”
“Yeah,” I conceded. “The whole thing sucks. I wish I could go back and do everything over again.”
Ramona nodded. “Have you thought about going over there?”
I jacked an eyebrow at her. “He’s not answering my texts, so you think I should stalk him?”
“Not stalk, just … face him.”
“Showing up over there would be crazy, which I realize I am, but that’s, like, next-level crazy.”
“Pen,” Ramona said as she hooked her arm in my free one, “you’re not crazy. You’re a mess, but you’re not crazy.”
I chuckled. “Thanks?”
“I mean it. And Bodie’s not going to think you’re crazy, especially if you apologize. I think he’ll give that to you. I’ve said from the jump that you need to just talk to him, and I think this might be your last chance.”
My heart burst apart like it had been stuffed with a lit M-80. “You think?”
“I do, on all counts. Go over there and talk to him. Tell him you’re sorry. Either he’ll tell you thanks, but no thanks or he’ll take you back. Either way, you’ll know.”
“So either I’ll be happy or miserable. That sounds super promising and not at all terrifying.”
Veronica chuckled. “Penny, you’re not afraid of anything but this one thing. I’m with Ramona. I say you should try so you can put it behind you. You’re miserable. It’s weird and very Four Horsemen.”
“I know,” I said on a soft laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for how you feel.” Ramona leaned into me as we walked up to Taco Town. “But don’t be afraid to do something about your feelings either.”
She pulled open the door, and the smell of tortilla chips and greasy meat hit me like a wall of savory deliverance. I wanted to be with Bodie. I wanted to beg and grovel and get him back. And this was my last chance to do it.
“Okay,” I said, standing up a little straighter. “I’ll do it.”
Ramona smiled, big and genuine and relieved. “When?”
And I sighed against the mounting pressure in my chest. “No time like the present. I’ve got a few hours — I’ll swing by now. And maybe I’ll bring tacos as a peace offering. He can’t be mad at me if I’m holding tacos. It’s a physical law of the universe.”
Veronica laughed, and I only wished tacos were a guarantee.
* * *
Bodie
The game glitched. Again.
I huffed and raked a hand through my hair, opening the code to comb through it. Again.
I’d done nothing for three days but work, sleep, and eat. My phone had stayed in my nightstand where I left it, and though I was fully occupied with the game, a little piece of my mind was always on Penny.
I was grateful for the distraction work provided.
Sorting through how I felt was too hard.
Numbers were simple. They didn’t play games or lie — it was fact. You couldn’t argue with math. It was unfeeling and logical and right.
It was a shame hearts didn’t work the same way. They were the exact opposite of facts and reason. Hearts wanted what they wanted, regardless of the truth. And mine wanted Penny.
The sensible part of me — my brain — told me to just let it go. For the most part, I had. And the truth was, even though I wanted Penny, I didn’t know if I wanted to be with her. Not at the status quo.
And that left me straddling the fence of her corral with no idea which way to go.
In any event, I had no time to expend on the decision. And that lack of time was a blessing, a bridge to put space between us that I desperately needed. So instead of thinking of the fight or how I missed her or how she’d hurt me, I filled my brain with ones and zeroes, a buzzing hum of logic that comforted me.
Well, not at the moment. At the moment, I was wrestling with the same string of code I’d been fighting since I woke up.
A knock rapped at the door, and when Jude answered and I heard the voice on the other side of the threshold, I spun around in my chair, stood numbly, and walked toward the sound.
The first and last person I’d expected to find on my welcome mat that day was Penny.
She stood in the hallway, sneakers turned in, shoulders rounded, red bottom lip between her teeth and eyes uncertain. She looked beautiful, sweet and beautiful and dangerous, with a bag stamped with the name Taco Town clutched in her hands.
Jude and I exchanged places at the door, and rather than moving to let her in, I stepped out and closed the door, leaving us alone in the hallway.
Somehow, she shrank into herself even more.
“Hey,” she said simply.
“Hey,” I echoed.
And then we stood there in the hallway with a thousand words hanging in the air.
She broke the silence. “I brought you some tacos.”
Penny held out the bag, and I took it, opening it to look inside, not knowing what else to do. Five minutes ago, I’d been starving. Now I didn’t know if I’d ever eat again.
“Thanks.” I rolled the bag back up. “What’s up?”
Her eyes were down, and she slipped her hands into her back pockets. “I … I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I hadn’t heard from you, and …” She took a deep breath and met my eyes. “I’m sorry, Bodie. For everything. For bailing on you. For taking you to that stupid show. For hurting you. I’m … I’m sorry, and I was wrong.”
I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and let it go. “Thank you.”
Everything else I wanted to say piled up in my throat.