Work Text:
From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes
I waited ages to see you there
I search the party of better bodies
Just to learn that you never cared
You're on your own, kid
You always have been
---
On the sixth of April, the first day at her new prestigious school in Mayfair, Penelope Featherington fell head over heels in love.
By the time the summer holidays had passed, and the city was blanketed in a powder of ice, she was utterly smitten, completely charmed by his kind, emerald eyes and intoxicating laugh. Her face would flush every time he looked her way, a tingle of rouge spreading across her cheeks. She felt her insides melt into a puddle whenever he gave her one of his dazzling boyish grins.
Once the frost had melted and the wildflowers had sprung into bloom, Penelope picked a simple daisy from behind her house. She held the stem between her fingertips as she carefully plucked at the dainty petals one by one, imagining her own perfect life, praying that one day all of her dreams would come true.
(He loves me… He loves me not… He loves me…)
---
London was unseasonably hot this year, an unprecedented heatwave. Penelope cranked the air conditioning in her beat-up hand-me-down car up to high, but she could still feel a trickle of sweat dripping down her forehead.
It was liberating to be finally driving her own car. Learning with her mother had been nothing short of a horror show, and the one time Portia handed the reigns to one of her older sisters resulted in a total and utter meltdown. Now, she could hesitate at a corner a second too long without the entire car turning into a teary mess. She could listen to her own CDs, belting out the tracks at the top of her lungs as she drove the car as far as she dared on a full tank of petrol, ensuring she was home well before Portia’s strict curfew.
As far as she dared was only a few quiet blocks away. When she pulled into the familiar street, Penelope directed the car into her usual parking spot and unbuckled the tight seatbelt across her chest. Then she took in a long, deep breath. The Bridgerton townhouse, grand and looming before her, was a lot to take in on a regular basis; she needed a few extra minutes to compose herself before going inside and braving the chaos.
She pressed a finger against the button to scrub back through the disc and then settled into the seat cushions with a contented sigh as the music began to play.
The band was just starting the first chorus when a loud sound rattled the window next to her ear.
Penelope’s entire body leapt in fright, the tops of her knuckles paling as she gripped the steering wheel in fear. She spun around to encounter her intruder and stilled when their expressions met through the condensation-covered glass. She watched him round the car until the passenger door opened, and a gust of stifling heat cycled into the cramped space.
“What are you doing out here, Pen?” Colin asked as he slid into the seat, slamming the door to keep any more of the cool air from escaping.
Penelope scrambled, leaning forward to jab at the volume controls, drenching the car into eerie silence. She could feel her face tingling with embarrassment as the warm outside air circled around the interior.
Colin peered at her curiously, vivid green eyes flashing, charming smile smirking, then cocked his head toward her. “It’s boiling out. Mum’s got the aircon running inside.”
She spluttered around a half-baked response. “You can go in; I’ll just be a minute.”
He gestured at her to elaborate, and Penelope sighed, looking down at the steering wheel cover as she picked at a loose piece of rubber along the edge.
“I just wanted to finish this song,” she muttered quietly.
Colin laughed. “You know I will happily endure terrible pop songs with you, Pen.”
Penelope watched in horror as he leaned forward, reaching for the dial to return the stereo system to life. She slumped back into the seat cover, utterly mortified, willing the chair to open up and swallow her whole. The music resumed, filling the car interior with a strumming guitar and dulcet piano chords, high hats stammering as quickly as her beating chest.
Colin’s face twisted into instant recognition. “Isn’t this my favourite band?” he grinned as he swivelled toward her.
Of course, it was. She didn’t even like the genre that much, but Penelope had rushed out to purchase every single one of their albums the second he had dropped their name. She just hoped he wouldn’t discover the rest of the records hoarded in her glovebox compartment.
She shrugged helplessly, and that just spurred Colin on more. He twisted the nob to maximum volume until the drum beat rattled at the windows. Then he began to jam, head banging to the beat and fingers dancing along a guitar in the air. Penelope could only watch in confusion and amusement until Colin encouraged her to join him with a nudge of her arm.
Reluctantly, she did, nodding softly in time until her hair flailed against her glowing cheeks. By the time the final chord played, Penelope was hunched over the steering wheel, her stomach aching from laughing so hard.
“You’re the best, Pen,” Colin said, filling Penelope’s heart with praise. He reached for the door handle, clambered out of the passenger seat, and rushed around to the driver's side, reefing her door open before offering his hand to help her out.
(He loves me...)
Penelope was greeted with a refreshing blast of cold air as she moved through the front door and into the foyer, the change in temperature doing wonders at cooling off her flustered face.
Colin started down the hallway, and Penelope rushed to keep up, struggling to maintain the same pace as his long strides. When they both arrived at the kitchen, they found Eloise perched on one of the stools, hunched over a pile of paperwork scattered around the countertop. Her mother was idly washing a mug at the sink. Colin made an immediate beeline towards the cabinetry in the corner.
“Hey, Mrs B,” Penelope called as she sat beside Eloise. She bumped their matching bracelets together in their usual acknowledgment, then peered at what she assumed were university brochures. Colin nodded briefly towards his mother as he opened the refrigerator door.
“I’ve told you, Penelope, please call me Violet,” she responded with a kind smile. “You are basically family.”
Penelope felt a giddy sense of pride at her words. She had always felt more at home with the Bridgerton family than she ever had with her own. Even though they were loud and chaotic and the complete opposite of what Penelope considered herself to be. The house today, in contrast, was eerily quiet - usually, there would be more than a handful of the eight siblings around on any given day.
“Where is everyone?” Penelope asked, voicing her concern.
Violet pursed her lips as she pondered the question, the smile lines on her face creasing. “Well, Daphne is with her new boyfriend, Simon-”
“-Anthony’s mate,” Eloise mumbled in Penelope’s ear while Colin made kissy faces toward the two of them, careful to stay out of sight. Penelope smothered her palm over her mouth to contain her giggles when Violet spun around and caught him in the act.
“Frannie is at piano lessons,” Violet continued, glaring at Colin as he sheepishly retrieved the ice cream from the bottom shelf. “And Hy and Greg are around somewhere…” She was interrupted by an almighty crash from an adjoining room. The four of them waited silently, the only sound in the kitchen the soft hum of the open refrigerator. Then a piercing shriek echoed from the hallway as Gregory raced past the kitchen door, his younger sister hot on his heels, her face red in anger.
Violet shook her head, muttering. “Never a dull moment.”
Colin slid beside her, fumbling with the top cutlery drawer to pull out two matching spoons. He waved the frozen tub towards Penelope, and a few shards of ice flung off onto the counter. “Ice cream, Pen?”
Her empty stomach growled at the enticing offer; it was her favourite flavour. But she could hear the little voice in the back of her head, which always sounded slightly like her mother, scolding her for even considering accepting a mouthful.
“No thanks,” she told him regretfully.
Coli’s face fell. The cutlery drawer rattled as he threw the extra spoon back inside with its companions. “What’s all this?” he asked, pointing at the stacks of papers with the back of his remaining spoon.
“Universities,” Eloise clarified. “You know, like the one you are supposed to be at right now, Colin?” she said with a pointed stare.
“University and I are not exactly getting along right now,” Colin replied, his voice wavering as he ran his hand through the thick hair at the base of his neck. Penelope gave him a soft smile when he looked towards her. “Mum suggested I take a gap year.”
“As can you, if you wish,” Violet informed Eloise as she placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder. “But we can discuss that after the formal next week.”
“If she even goes.” Colin scoffed. “I thought Eloise turned down everyone who asked her?”
Eloise stuck her tongue out at him as he rounded the counter and took the stool alongside Penelope, the three of them one by one in a row. “I did. I’m not that interested in going to a party where someone will parade me around in a pretty dress,” she muttered with distaste and an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Besides, Penelope’s not going either.”
Colin frowned, turning toward her, green gaze quizzical. “Why aren’t you going?”
“Oh.” She could feel her face immediately pinken from Colin’s questioning look. At least she could blame the sweltering heat for how quickly the flush spread across her cheeks.
“Well… no one asked me,” she muttered quietly, diverting her gaze away from Colin's intense stare. She realised in horror that Eloise and Violet were now peering towards her too.
She could go on her own, of course. She didn’t need a date to attend the formal. But she knew, even if she turned up in a lovely, flattering dress, hair perfectly curled and makeup professionally pressed; without a handsome date linked on her arm and a matching corsage fastened around her wrist, it would only give Cressida even more ammunition to use against her.
“El said we’d just do our own thing,” Penelope said, slumping her shoulders helplessly.
“I’ll go with you,” Colin mumbled, his lips wrapped midway around a spoonful of ice cream.
(He loves me...)
The corners of Violet’s mouth crept upwards while Penelope’s jaw dropped to the floor.
Eloise's grin flipped to an exasperated scowl. “You can’t go,” she declared, intent on being the one to fill the silence. “You don’t even go to our school anymore.”
Colin shrugged, dipping his spoon into the frozen tub for another scoop. “I’m sure Danbury won’t mind.”
“I think that’s a lovely idea, Colin,” Violet cooed, the smile on her face stretching.
Penelope’s mind was reeling. Her hazel eyes darted between the three of their distracted faces, a quickening heartbeat racing under her skin. She squeezed her eyes together, praying that no one could hear her pulse vibrate in the peaceful quiet of the kitchen.
Colin nudged her softly with his elbow, bare skin grazing together briefly, and Penelope’s eyes popped open in shock.
“What do you say, Pen?” Colin prodded.
Her stomach twisted into a knotted-up tangle.
“But- but won’t it be weird?” she spluttered, eyes zig-zagging around the kitchen between them.
“Why would it be weird?” Colin asked with a slight frown. “We’re the best of friends.”
“ I’m her best friend, Colin,” Eloise grumbled quietly beside them.
Colin waved her away with his spoon. His gorgeous face was still looking towards Penelope eagerly, a pleading look in his eyes. She couldn’t say ‘no’ to him. Not to Colin, the boy she’d been hopelessly, maddeningly in love with since the second she met him.
“Okay,” Penelope conceded. “I’ll go.”
His smile was so contagious that she found herself helplessly grinning back.
Eloise sighed, entirely over the top, to direct everyone’s focus back to her. “Fine . I guess I have to come too now.”
“Why?”
“To make sure you stay in line.” She jabbed at Colin with one of her pamphlets, the cheaply printed paper crinkling under her exaggerated hands.
“What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything, I just mean-”
The two of them started bickering over the top of Penelope’s head, and she ducked down to avoid the crossfire. A wistful smile spread across her face as she sank lower into the stool. She had a date. To the formal. With Colin Bridgerton.
It took everything in her power not to raise her arms into the air and squeal.
(He loves me…)
---
Penelope paced in front of the door, the slinky fabric clinging uncomfortably to her skin as she dug a deep track into the hardwood under her feet. She again caught herself in the hallway mirror and scowled back at the ugly reflection.
Her mother had insisted on helping her get ready this evening, but everything she had done was wrong . Her hair was pulled back tightly with a thousand bobby pins. Her lipstick was the wrong shade and far too pink. Penelope had luckily hidden the shimmery eyeshadow palette the moment her mother had stepped out of the room. She looked down at the dress picked out for her, stretched unbearably over her skin, all yellow, shiny, and snug in all the wrong places.
“This one is half price,” her mother had advised her after Penelope had exited the dressing room curtain with a frown across her face. She would accept no further arguments. “Besides, yellow is such a happy colour.”
It wasn’t. This colour was making Penelope miserable.
She pulled at the pins in the hair and fluffed up the edges of her curls in a desperate attempt to wrangle something half-decent together. She was blotting her grimacing lips with a piece of tissue when there was a sturdy knock at the door.
Penelope flung open the door, prepared excuses for why she could no longer attend on the tip of her tongue, but she faltered when she saw him. Colin was swoon-worthy. He looked dashing in his charcoal suit, slimming jacket, tailored pants and a neat bowtie to match. There was a small yellow flower pinned neatly on the lapel. His hair had been neatly styled, but it was clear he had recently run his hands through the locks and messed them up endearingly.
He looked perfect.
And she was, well, Penelope.
There was no way she could go now.
“Hey, Pen! You look nice,” Colin said politely in greeting, bouncing on the balls of his feet as she stood starstruck under the doorframe. Then he noticed her trembling lip and fidgeting fingers, arms crossed over her waist awkwardly.
“Is something the matter?”
Penelope snapped to attention and stumbled backwards a step. “No!” she shouted, way too loud, and then she spluttered, trying to spew the words out of her mouth. “I just- I don’t- this is….” She sighed and then gestured down her body with one arm as she dropped her gaze to her open-toed shoes. “I don’t think I should go,” she told the floor.
She expected him to get angry with her for wasting his time. Turn on his heel, march back down to the car, and drive away at high speed. But instead, he smiled at her reassuringly, eyes twinkling with something Penelope could not place, and said the last thing she expected.
“You look really pretty, Penelope.”
(He loves me...)
She stifled a gasp as he took a single stride toward her and met her on the top step. Then he reached for her arms and pulled them away from where they protected her middle, lightly rubbing the tops of her knuckles with his fingertips.
“I’ve always thought you looked lovely in yellow,” he whispered.
“Oh,” Penelope wheezed, her voice quivering. “Th-Thank you, I-”
A loud, deafening sound blasted down from below them. Colin dropped Penelope’s hands as if they were burning to the touch and whirled around in fright, eyes wide. Eloise was leaning over from the backseat of the parked car, her hand pressed firmly down on the steering wheel horn. She poked her head out of the window. “Let’s go, losers!” she yelled. “Are we going to this crappy thing or what?”
Colin turned back to Penelope, and she hesitated, hand lingering on the door handle.
“It’ll be fun, Pen, I promise,” Colin said quietly. “Trust me.”
She nodded. She did trust him. More than herself, more than anyone else in the world.
“Oh! And this is for you.” Colin pulled a small box from his pants pocket and thrust it towards her. She opened it to reveal a small corsage, a bundle of beautiful white and yellow flowers. He took the arrangement out, looped the band around her wrist, and then pointed to similar petals pinned to his jacket. “Look! Now we’re matching.”
Another honk sounded from the street.
“We’re coming!” Colin shouted behind him, then muttered something under his breath Penelope couldn’t quite catch. Then he offered her his arm. “Your carriage awaits,” he teased, smiling proudly when Penelope smothered a giggle with her hand and let him lead her down the stairs.
---
The venue was a lavish garden estate with a spacious dining hall flanked by perfectly manicured lawns and flower beds. The party was already in full swing when they arrived; guests in elegant attire mingled in the outdoor courtyard while soft music echoed inside the building.
Penelope cast her eye over the crowd. The girls were clutching their tiny purses and looking sheepish while the boys were peacocking, chests pushed out to gain favour. Everyone had scrubbed up well in their floor-length gowns and sharply pressed suits. Everyone except herself, she feared, tugging slightly at the fabric that had constricted around her stomach and then using her clutch to cover her midsection.
Colin didn’t notice her distress. He offered her his arm again, and she looped her shaking fingers through the gap as he led her towards the main door where Headmistress Danbury was standing watch. The formidable woman’s cane was blocking the pathway like a mystical beast guarding the entrance to a castle fortress; Penelope wondered if they needed a special password to be allowed safe passage inside.
“Mr Bridgerton!” Danbury bellowed as they approached, stamping her staff against the pavement loudly enough that a dozen heads in the courtyard swivelled around to look at them. “Miss Featherington,” she continued, gaze lingering fleetingly on their connected arms and then flickering to where Eloise was loitering behind them, “and Miss Bridgerton.”
She turned back toward Colin, her eyes narrowing scrutinously. “You don’t go to my school anymore.”
Colin chuckled. “A delight to see you too, Headmistress,” he said, enchanting her with his sly grin. “I’m sure you can make an exception.”
The edge of Danbury’s lips lifted, a rare and unnatural sight. “Anything for Penelope,” she said, pointing towards her with the blunt of her cane. “She’s one of my brightest students, did you know?”
Colin looked down and gave her forearm a slight squeeze. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”
(He loves me...)
Inside, the crowd slowly floated towards the dining room hall for dinner. Colin released Penelope’s arm and began to follow Eloise aimlessly towards the promise of food.
“Wait!” Penelope called out, and the two stopped dead in their tracks. “Can we take a quick photo?” she asked nervously when they had returned to her side. She dove into her clutch to pull out her phone. “You know, commemorate the occasion,” she stuttered bashfully.
She handed Colin her phone. Eloise squished in beside her, sandwiching her between the two of them as Colin began to press the shutter button. She put on her best smile as they stared towards the screen. Eloise jabbed at Colin behind her back, and he yelped, the phone shaking wildly, which made Eloise howl with laughter and Penelope snicker until all three of them were giggling idiots in the corner of the entranceway.
Colin handed her back the phone, and then he and his sister wandered ahead as Penelope swiped through the options. Some were completely blurry, and a few had their eyes closed in an unflattering way. But there was one perfect photo. Penelope was mid-laugh, and Eloise was smiling towards the camera, but Colin was looking towards both of them with a dreamy smile besotted with affection. Penelope traced the faces on her screen longingly with the tip of her finger.
(He loves me...)
She spent most of the dinner sneaking glances towards Colin, nibbling nervously at the corner of her bread and pushing her food around on her plate. Every time he would glance her way, she would drag her eyes away quickly, blushing bright red from head to toe, so crimson she was sure everyone at the table would notice.
Halfway through the meal, his leg bumped against hers under the table.
“More bread?” Colin grinned, handing her the other half of his dinner roll.
(He loves me...)
After the dessert plates had been cleared, the music began playing, and everyone rushed to the dancefloor. Eloise made excuses and slinked away with a few friends from her drama class, intending to hide her two left feet far from the dancing.
Penelope watched wistfully as the couples around her took their places under the soft, dimmed lights. The first song was upbeat, and so everyone was jabbing their feet in time and flailing their arms around widely. When the song ended and morphed into a slower tempo, the choreography changed, with students drifting backwards and forward as they held each other tightly.
Then suddenly, her view of the floor was blocked by a solid figure. Colin stood before her, hand outstretched.
“Come on, Pen,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “We’re dancing.”
(He loves me...)
Colin guided them to the edge of the floor, and they joined the crowd, mimicking everyone’s movement as they slowly swayed under the soft lights. Colin pulled Penelope closer to his chest as he wrapped a tentative arm around her back, and she snuggled warmly into his jacket as they continued to sway.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight, Colin,” she whispered softly against his sternum.
“Of course, Pen,” he whispered back, lips ghosting the fringe of her hair. Then he pulled back slightly to gaze into her eyes, emerald and chestnut intertwined. “I’ll always be here for you,” he promised. “You are very special to me.”
(He loves me...)
This could be the moment. The moment she had been dreaming of for two years. All he had to do was lean down slightly and brush his lips softly against hers, even for the briefest moment. He was already her prince charming, but he could rescue her, save her from all of her torment with just a single, perfect kiss.
Instead, he grinned, taking her hand in his and lifting both arms high into the air. Then he twisted his wrist, spinning her around in a beautiful circle. The edges of her golden gown shimmered under the soft lighting, fluttering out in a wide fan as she spun and spun and spun.
It wasn’t a kiss, but it didn’t matter. She still felt like a princess.
Penelope had never been so happy and free.
(He loves me...)
After intermission, Penelope lost track of Colin.
She searched high and low until she finally found him in a dark corner away from the main building, engulfed in a haze of smog. Fife was stamping a cigarette into the ground, digging the butt into the dirt to avoid getting caught. Colin was haphazardly spinning his father’s lighter between his fingers, flicking the clasp open and shut, tiny sparks of flame igniting under his touch.
Cressida spotted them just as Penelope had, and she was sashaying towards the two, the pointed ends of her heels imprinting into the soft earth beneath her feet. Her stunning dress draped effortlessly over her thin torso, appearing much more flattering than the same style around Penelope’s body in the department store dressing room.
She wrapped her bony arms around her boyfriend’s torso, pressing into his chest and giving him a wet, sloppy kiss. Fife’s hand snaked around her waist, the shimmering fabric of her seafoam dress pleating under strain. As he pulled her close, Penelope watched Colin shudder, shifting away uncomfortably until their personal display of affection was over.
After Cressida had released Fife’s mouth, she immediately began eyeing Colin off, trailing her gaze up and down his form with minimal delicacy, the sight making Penelope squirm with jealousy. She weaved through the thick crowd of thin figures, taking a wide berth around the outskirts of the venue, keeping her glare firmly on the trio as she slowly approached them.
They seemed to be talking conspiratorially now. Fife and Cressida were dictating the conversation while Colin was shuffling awkwardly on the balls of his feet, still fiddling with the lighter in his hands. Then Cressida began to laugh, her loud shrill cutting through the party’s commotion, and Colin’s posture tightened just as Penelope stepped into the space just behind him to finally eavesdrop.
“Enough! I’m not going to date Penelope Featherington!”
Penelope’s footsteps faulted, and she looked up in devastation, her legs suddenly feeling as heavy as lead. Cressida was still cackling, her stylised curls flung backwards. Fife's face had contorted into a sceptical smirk, which faltered slightly when he briefly caught Penelope’s eye over Colin’s stiffened shoulder.
Then Colin’s voice dropped low and faint, so quiet that Penelope barely heard him over the deafening ringing in her ears.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
(He loves me not.)
She ran.
Penelope sprinted as fast as her short legs could carry her, nimbly zipping around the other students and their flashy dates, praying that, as usual, no one would pay her any mind. Her eyes were stinging from the rush of wind, but she did not dare cry, not until she had reached the ladies' bathroom, behind the safety of the stall door. Then she let the tears stream down her face, a waterfall of salt and despair, one loud choking sob rattling around the room and echoing off the tiled floor.
Curled on the toilet seat, Penelope tucked her knees to her chest as black tears painted moody lines down her cheeks, staining her porcelain skin and dripping off onto the cheerful fabric underneath. She picked at her fingernails until they were red, pulling at one particular hangnail until blood congealed at the seam and trickled onto her silk-covered knees.
Penelope had no idea how long she’d stayed in the cubicle. Huddled, stationary in fear every time someone passed through the threshold, waiting with bated breath as she listened for the telltale sounds of the plumbing flushing and basin gurgling before the door would eventually close with a soft thud. Some girls would arrive giddy and gossipy, spending minutes preening themselves in front of the mirrors as they gushed over their dates.
She almost missed Eloise’s arrival. Soft footprints and an equally gentle call of her name. Penelope muffled her gasp and hunched further into herself, breath caught in her lungs. If Eloise had noticed anything or heard a small whimper or sniffle, she said nothing, instead allowing Penelope respite as the door banged faintly behind her.
After a little while longer, her phone pinged loudly, and Penelope scrambled for her clutch to silence the device before it gave away her position. She grimaced at the lock screen, a different version of herself smiling back at her. She couldn’t believe they’d taken that photo only a few hours ago.
There was one message from Colin and one from Eloise, but she did not dare open either.
Penelope fiddled with her phone, flipping the device repeatedly back and forth between her palms. She read every line of graffiti on the bathroom wall twice, memorising the swirl of the permanent marker until they were etched deep in her memory. She traced the pattern of the cracks in the surface tile with her eyes, then scrunched them together so tightly that spots of light danced along her blurry vision.
Finally, once her legs were completely numb and tingling and she could cry no more, she pried herself off the toilet, stood on shaking legs and switched the lock to green.
When Eloise eventually found her, Penelope was at the sink, leaning close to the mirror as she dabbed under her eyes with a scrunched-up wad of tissue paper. She’d removed the evidence as best as she could, but the ebony ink was stubborn and unyielding, and the stains on her dress would not come out with mere warm water and cheap bathroom soap.
“Pen!” Eloise cried, rushing to her side. “There you are. Colin and I have been looking all over for you.”
Penelope stiffened at the mention of his name, tearing at the tissue in her hands; it shredded into as many pieces as her frail, fractured heart.
“Everything okay?” Eloise asked, glancing towards her curiously in the reflection.
“Of course,” Penelope said brightly, smiling through the pain, a well-practised expression. “Everything’s fine.”
(He loves me not.)
Eloise had noticed the black and maroon splotches on her dress, the faded dark marks across her cheeks, and the slight tremor in her speech. Everything wasn’t fine. But for once, she decided not to push.
“Okay,” she conceded, gripping her friend's hand tightly. “Let me just go and get Colin and-”
Penelope flinched her arm backwards in panic. The white of her eyes was starting to sting again. Her voice cracked, lip wobbling as she tried to conceal another sob. “El,” she pleaded hopelessly. “I just want to go home.”
Eloise stared at her for a long moment and then nodded with conviction. “I’ll see if Anthony can come and get us.”
---
“I can’t believe you’re moving to New York.”
Penelope clutched the book in her hands close to her chest in comfort. “Neither can I,” she breathed, afraid to jinx it if she spoke too loudly. She looked toward Eloise on the other side of her childhood bedroom with wide eyes. “Am I making a mistake?”
Eloise harrumphed. “Definitely not; the salary is incredible, and it’s New York.”
“I haven’t even gotten the job yet, El,” Penelope reminded her, pulling another book from the shelf behind her. She spun the cover in her palms, skimming the back contents, her fingertips caressing along the well-loved and worn spine.
Another dismissive noise escaped Eloise’s mouth. “Please. You basically have already.” She dug her fingers into the container before her, rummaging through Penelope’s possessions, and pulled out a small wooden box that was offensively decorated in glitter. She squinted at it curiously and then started working at the small latch.
“You could have stayed a little closer, though, you know,” she reprimanded teasingly. “You’re paying for all of my plane tickets.”
Penelope made a noise through her nose, and Eloise grinned as she lifted the box's lid. Inside was a kaleidoscope of trinkets and memorabilia. Movie stubs and old train tickets, a collection of blurry polaroids from when her brother had bought Penelope a camera for her birthday. A bundle of fake flowers wrapped around an elastic band. A single smooth pebble was nestled underneath.
Right at the bottom of the box were two circles of hard plastic, which Eloise pulled to the top to analyse closer. They were matching bracelets, carefully bound and braided with a rainbow of colourful string. It was apparent whose was whose - one was meticulously tied and neatly trimmed while the other had loose strands scattered along the edges. Eloise was surprised she had finished hers and then mused that Penelope had probably added the final touches.
“Do you remember when we made these?” Eloise asked, shaking them as Penelope looked over her shoulder. “That summer after we first met.” Eloise let out a long, satisfying whistle. “God, that was years ago.”
Penelope released a melancholy sigh. “So much has changed,” she whispered.
A silent beat passed between them. “You don’t have to go, Penelope.”
“I do,” she rushed, turning and busying herself back on the bookshelf. She pulled at another novel, sending dust flying into the stagnant air. Penelope paused, sighing deeply as she settled the book with the others in the box by her side. “I need to start a new chapter in my life.”
It still sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than Eloise.
“There’s more to it,” Eloise said, still perplexed. There was something more, a detail that she was missing, something Penelope was refusing to reveal. “It feels like you’re running away,” she muttered, then, realising the apparent irony, burst into a light chuckle. “Usually, it’s Colin doing that.”
Penelope stilled, her back hunching in tension.
“Sorry,” Eloise jested. “It’s just funny how the two of you are switching. This behaviour has Colin written all over it.”
Her friend fell silent, the edge of her fingertips gripping the spine of a novel tightly. Dropping the bracelets back in with the rest of the collection, Eloise rounded the stacked cardboard until she was alongside Penelope on the other side of the room.
“...is this about him?” Eloise gestured around the room at the chaotic mess of Penelope’s lifetime possessions, reduced to a smattering of half-filled boxes.
Penelope's shoulders stiffened, the book’s spine in her hands bending. “No,” she muttered into the dusty shelves, refusing to turn around. Eloise moved closer, slotting herself into her space and nudging her into a half-turn, Penelope still refusing to match her gaze.
Since their awkward Christmas get-together, something had shifted between her brother and their best friend. Colin had skipped town the second the first new year firework exploded in the sky, his bedroom bare and empty and his suitcase missing before Eloise had even had a chance to grill him about anything.
“He’s an idiot, Pen,” she told her. “I know that more than most.”
Eloise's words lingered. She felt obligated to continue, bound by blood to at least give Colin the benefit of the doubt, innocent until proven guilty. “I’m sure he didn’t mean whatever he might have said.”
“Eloise,” Penelope gritted out through clenched teeth, the sound of her name settling with an elongated hiss. “His actions were perfectly clear.”
They caught themselves in an unexpected staring contest, neither wanting to forfeit as the tension in the room grew. Then, finally, Penelope yielded, blinking and releasing a tiny tear from the corner of her reddening eye. Eloise took in the rest of her features as the droplet slowly slid down her cheek; the tired lines across her skin, the purpling tint underneath her eyes, the permanently hollow expression. She recalled how distant her best friend had become over the last few weeks, transforming into a shell of the person she loved so dearly.
Then suddenly, everything clicked, the final maddening puzzle piece sliding into place.
It was heartbreak. Penelope was heartbroken.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Penelope echoed, her voice barely a whisper. “Oh.”
(He loves me not.)
Eloise watched with widening eyes as her friend dragged her feet to the armchair in the corner and collapsed into the cushions with a heavy sigh, the last of her strings snapping as she crumbled into two. Eloise was at her side in an instant, crowding against the armrest. She didn’t know what to say; whatever words were likely to tumble out of her mouth would surely be inconsequential.
“It’s fine,” Penelope insisted before Eloise could formulate anything. She batted her away with an open palm. “Forget I said-”
“-for how long?” Eloise blurted out. “When- what… why didn’t you say anything?”
Penelope was blinking back tears. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
Another teardrop escaped imprisonment, and then another, until the entire damned dam broke, a flood of emotion pouring out. Eloise soothed her, running soft circles along her back as Penelope’s quiet sobs dampened her shoulder. Internally, Eloise’s mind was scrambling to catch up, sorting through a catalogue of their almost decade-long friendship, finally recognising the significance of those lingering looks and quiet grieving.
“When he gets back from,” Eloise hesitated, releasing their embrace and throwing her hands up into the air in aggravation, “wherever the fuck he is.” Her voice lowered to a deep murmur. “I’m going to kill him.” She squeezed her hands together forcefully, imitating a chokehold.
Penelope made a strangled noise, caught between a whine and snorting of laughter. Then she shook her head slowly, the corner of her lip raising barely a sliver. She rose from the chair, swiping at her tear-stained face with the back of her sleeve. “We should really get back to packing,” Penelope murmured, moving back towards the bookshelf.
Eloise jumped to her feet and rushed to her original box, riffling through the contents to withdraw the coloured bracelets. She returned to Penelope’s side in a flash, holding out the plastic in her hand and shoving it into Penelope’s stunned grasp.
“Take this with you,” Eloise insisted. She pulled the matching bracelet over her knuckles and up her wrist and then displayed her handiwork proudly. Penelope did the same, the twisted braid sitting snugly against her pulse point. She latched their fingers together, clenching tightly.
“I’ll message you every day,” Eloise promised.
Penelope sniffled as she struggled to hold herself together, teetering on the edge of another wave of emotion. “I know you will.”
---
Penelope fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist as she stood on the steps of her mother’s extravagant home, watching as her sisters wrangled her oversized suitcase, almost as tall as her short frame, into the back of the taxi cab. Phillipa and Prudence were bickering about the proper placement while Felicity had smartly stood a few steps out of the way. Her mother was huffing loudly beside her.
It was surprising how little baggage she was bringing. Her carry-on bag and purse were at her side, and the rest of her things had neatly fit into half a dozen boxes, two of which were filled with paperbacks and novels. Those containers had been left to wait patiently in her now empty bedroom, with a promise of expedited shipping once Penelope was settled in the big city.
The slam of the boot lid jolted Penelope out of her thoughts. Phillipa was now in front of her with a tired smile, and she pulled her into a short hug. “Good luck in New York, Penny,” she said quietly into her hair, squeezing the tops of her shoulders as she released their rigid embrace.
“I can’t believe all of that writing in your room actually amounted to something,” Prudence muttered beside them, complexion turning envious green. Penelope caught her mother’s side eye before her older sister reached around her in a reluctant half-hold.
Felicity, in comparison, scooped her up into a tight clutch. “I’m going to miss you,” she cried against her shoulder.
Penelope struggled to hold back her own tears. “I’m going to miss you too,” she confessed quietly, hugging her closer.
“Call me as soon as you land,” Felicity mumbled as she pulled away, wiping her face with her hands. Penelope copied her movement, rubbing her cheeks with the yellow sleeve of her oversized jumper.
The three of them, a sea of copper curls, floated back towards the front door as Penelope centred and took a deep breath; this was the part she had dreaded the most. When she twisted around to say goodbye to her mother, she was surprised to see Portia holding back her own tears. She frowned in confusion when her mother reached down, taking her tiny shaking hand and leading her to the curb.
“This is a huge step,” Portia started as they stood at the door of the waiting cab. “You’re going to do such great things in New York.” Then she hesitated, the tips of her fingers rubbing along the swell of Penelope’s arms as she pondered what to say.
“I know I don’t say this enough,” Portia finally admitted, “but I’m really proud of you.”
She wrapped her arms around her daughter delicately, enveloping her in a loving hug before Penelope could erupt into tears. Her mother soothed kisses into her forehead, and Penelope melted into her affections, clinging tightly to her designer coat.
“You better get going,” Portia eventually choked, pushing her lightly towards the open waiting door. “You don’t want to miss your flight.” Penelope settled herself in the backseat, shuffling her carry-on bag into the gap alongside her and balancing her overstuffed handbag precariously onto her lap.
Portia leaned in and gave her an unnaturally kind smile in farewell.
“You’re on your own now, kiddo.”
As the cab pulled away, Penelope watched through the black-tinted window as her family morphed into four indistinct orange blobs, their vibrancy blurring into the horizon. She could see her reflection frowning back at her, breath fogging up the expression when she sighed deeply. Her head slumped against the glass pane as she stared vacantly out the window; the quiet residential streets turned to the countryside and then into the bumbling, busy skyline.
She thumbed the passport in her hands. She was really about to do this; go to the airport, get on a plane and start a whole new life in New York. Nail that nerve-wracking job interview. Get a run-down apartment in a fancy part of the city and have fun roommates and noisy colleagues and a local corner coffee stop to call her own, exactly like she had always dreamed.
Something niggled at her heart, tingling and aching for just a little bit more.
Penelope squashed it down, burying her yearning deep inside.
She was on her own now.
(She always had been.)