“Nope! Get up!” The bed dipped as she climbed on, stood up, and started jumping.
“Ugh!”
I flung a pillow at her, and she laughed, catching it midair to toss it behind her.
“Whoops, you lost another place to hide.” She put a little more force into her bouncing, sending me jostling.
I grabbed another pillow and threw it but was thwarted again. “I hate you.”
“Liar.”
She giggled and stopped jumping, lying down next to me. Her face softened, her smile cajoling. “Seriously, though, let’s go do something.”
I pouted, curling up even tighter. “I don’t wanna.”
She rolled her eyes. “Real mature.”
“Everything sucks.”
“Everything doesn’t suck,” she corrected. “Just one thing.”
I groaned. “But that one thing really, really sucks. I don’t think he’s going to call me.”
She didn’t answer right away. “Maybe not. Maybe so. You just have to wait and see.”
“Waiting sucks too. Time sucks. Breaking up sucks. Everything sucks. See?”
“It’s only been two days, Pen,” she said gently. “Give him a little more time.”
“He had his meeting. I wonder how it went. I wonder if he’s okay.” I paused. “I should call him.”
She gave me a look.
“Ugh, don’t look at me like that. Are you gonna slap my phone out of my hand again if I try?”
“Maybe.”
I groaned. “But I can’t call him. You’re right. I’m trying to respect his space.” My face bent under the weight of my conflict. “God, can’t you just go sleep with Jude to find out what’s going on over there?”
“Ha, ha.” She pulled my last pillow out from under my head and pressed it over my face like she was going to suffocate me.
We laughed for a second, and then I groaned again. “This sucks.”
“All right, you win. Everything sucks.”
“Thank you.”
“But this is ridiculous.”
My face went flat. “Thanks.”
“What? It is, and you know it. Seriously, if I hear ‘Fade into You’ one more time, I’m going to open a vein. So let’s get you cleaned up and out of the house. Even if just for a minute. Even if just for tacos.”
“I don’t want tacos.”
One of her brows rose. “Wow. You really are fucked up.”
“Told you.”
“Okay, then call him.”
“Oh, so now you’ll let me call him?” I huffed. “I can’t, and you know it. I literally just said that.”
“I know, and I take it back. I’m changing my tune since my old tune is worn out, and you clearly don’t want to hear it. If you want to talk to him, call him.”
“He said he didn’t have time to ‘deal’ right now.” I made air quotes with one hand.
“I mean, I guess you can’t really blame him.”
“I don’t,” I said sadly. “I don’t blame him at all. I blame me. I’m the one who did this. He’s right; I kept all my feelings to myself, and this was the result. I hurt him, Ronnie. I don’t even know if I deserve to have him back. So I’m at an emotional impasse.”
She watched me for a second. “All right, then how about going back?” Somewhere in her twinkling eyes, I thought she might be baiting me.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s get Old Penny back. The girl who doesn’t do relationships because of exactly this.”
A tiny sliver of hope shone on me as she continued.
“You’re like this about guys because you don’t want to get hurt. You just lived through a self-fulfilling prophecy. So, why not adopt the old rule again? Revive it. Bring it back from the dead.”
I smiled for the first time in days as I relit the pilot light in my heart. “Yes. Yes! Old Penny is fucking smart. Feelings are dumb and stupid and ruin lives. I was so much happier when I had the rule and boundaries. You’re right. I can’t believe you’re actually right. We should mark the calendar.”
She laughed and pinched me in the arm. “Okay, so let’s go out and prove how smart Old Penny is. We can go to Diesel and see Cody. Remember Cody? He always puts you in a good mood.”
I sighed dreamily. “How could I forget? That’s no man. That’s a god, covered in tattoos. And he has that hair.”
“Gah, that hair. That hair should have its own Tumblr.”
I laughed, feeling less like my heart was going to fall out of my chest.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. You can get back on the horse. Or the Cody. Whatever.”
I laughed, but my insides knotted up at the thought of riding anybody but Bodie. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
She smiled and booped my nose. “Atta girl. It’s gonna be okay, Pen,” she said so softly and sincerely that I actually believed her.
My liner was winged, my heels were high, my shorts were short, and my mood was about as sturdy as piecrust — a thin, golden buttery façade over the gooey, messy, blood-red cherry filling. But I found myself strutting into that bar on a mission that felt awfully real even if it was bullshit.