She wasn’t trying to think about things. She was trying very hard to do the opposite. But every time she told herself to settle down, to focus on a paragraph, her mind wandered off again, remembering the feel of Finn’s lips pressed against hers, the warmth of his body wrapped around her.
It had been so easy. All the things that had never been easy for her became so simple with him. He made her feel interesting instead of self-conscious. He made her feel brave instead of scared. She’d never had a boyfriend, nor had she dated in high school. Always the odd girl who never quite belonged anywhere.But this, with Finn, felt right. It felt good in a warm, lovely, comfortable way that she thought she’d never find.
Frustratingly, standing in front of those feelings was Bonnie. Bonnie, who somehow didn’t think she was right for him. Maybe Bonnie didn’t feel she was good enough for him. She understood that Finn had been hurt. But that didn’t mean she was going to hurt him. Couldn’t Bonnie understand that?
Penelope felt a tightness throughout her body. Her jaw was clenched, her legs felt rigid, and she was gripping her book in a way that would do damage if she didn’t let go soon.
“Breathe,” she reminded herself, even as her thoughts became more focused on this subject. She’d always been the follower in their friendship—the sidekick—the one there to admire Bonnie’s light. Didn’t she, this once, deserve something for herself?
She cringed, her shoulders rising up towards her ears as she thought back to the few dates she’d had in college. They’d never gone far. She just couldn’t bring herself to go out on a second date when there was no chemistry on the first.
Except with Carson. When Carson smiled at her, she came alive. Or at least that’s what it felt like at the time. She’d never expected someone like him to be interested in her—someone who was handsome, smart, and poised. But there he was, standing in front of her, taking her hand and leading her away from the crowd. Always away from the crowd. Later, not even touching her, just catching her eye, knowing she’d follow. He took her to the hidden places where no one would ever see them together. The memories started to spiral as she lost control of them.
Carson was one of Felix’s best friends. She’d been introduced to him at a party Bonnie brought her to, although he’d barely talked to her at the time. It was a few parties later before he sought her out, finding her awkwardly sitting alone. He waiteduntil later in the night, when things were quieter and she was drunker. She was so stupid. She’d never caught on. Three or four times it happened. He waited until the night was almost over, led her away, then made out with her in a dark room with a locked door, insisting on leaving the room separately afterward.
She’d never had someone touch her like that, though. It felt intoxicating. He wanted her, he whispered it in her ear as he kissed her. His hands were doing things she wasn’t sure she wanted but didn’t want to stop either.
He said what they shared was private, something too intimate to share with others. Even though the voice inside her registered that this was wrong, she didn’t want to hear it. Instead, she listened to him. Because… didn’t she deserve something like this, something every other person besides her seemed to have? Looking back later, discussing it in therapy, she could see that it was the experience, the desire to be loved, more than the desire for him, that drew her in.
Easy to see with time, distance, and a paid therapist. In the moment, it had felt like everything. Eventually, she let him take her to that field in the middle of nowhere, drinking the bitter wine she didn’t like and had no tolerance for, and letting him undress her.
She could still feel his fingers running down her sides. She had trusted him. She had let him be her first.
After, when he was done, his hand resting on her stomach, he had squeezed, grabbing the extra bit of flesh there roughly. That’s when he’d said it to her, when she was at her most vulnerable, that this was why he couldn’t date her, why he wouldn’t bring her to parties or date her out in public. He couldn’t possibly be seen with her while she looked like this. “Get in shape,” he’d said, “Then maybe….” Although, even his maybe sounded doubtful, scornful.
The worst part was that she had let it continue. It wasn’t just once; it was multiple times. Part of her thought he would change his mind because he did keep calling. He would pick her up in the middle of the night and take her back to his apartment, returning her to her dorm in the early hours before anyone knew she was gone. And he confided in her. She was there to build up his ego, to make him feel better about himself, even when he belittled her.
Until that last time, just before they graduated.
Penny’s knuckles were white from her grip on the now-closed book. She’d given up trying to look at the words on the pages.
His words were cruel, and his lips curled in disgust when she asked what would happen to them after graduation, as if she should have known all along. “There is no us, no we, no thing. This, whatever it was, will be done.”
Penelope’s arm dropped to wrap around her stomach, feeling the firmness there. The slimness, tight with muscle. She wasn’t that girl anymore, she reminded herself. She would never let herself be treated that way again. She knew she deserved better, even if she had to remind herself occasionally.
She had tried to tell Bonnie, unable to find the words to confess what had actually happened, never getting very far.
Bonnie hadn’t given her much of a chance either, practically laughing in her face at the mention of his name, saying, “You? With Carson Whitfield? That would never work.”
Now, it felt like it was happening all over again. Only this time, the guy was perfect. Not an asshole. But still, in her best friend’s eyes, she wasn’t good enough.
Penelope pushed away the book, the blankets, and the pillows. There was no comfort to be found there, no escape. She walked across the room to stand in front of the aged, full-length mirror. The reflection, while fuzzy, was clear enough to view what she wanted. She lifted her shirt to stare at her stomach. Itwas softer than it had been before their arrival. The muscle she’d worked so hard for, while still there, was less defined, starting to fade without the attention it needed.
It was time to do something about it.
There was nothing sneaky about her as she headed down the stairs the second time, dressed for a run, having already done twenty minutes of toning exercises.
“Hey,” Bonnie called from the kitchen. “There you are. I saw the coffee, but no sign of you.” She appeared in the doorway, still in her pajamas, an inviting smile on her face. “Oh, wow. Okay. Going for a run? I thought you’d gone back to sleep.”
“No. Just reading. I’m going for a run now. Then, I might hit a bookstore later. Check things out.” Her words were clipped, her expression tight.
“Oh. Right.”
Penny could see the effect of her coldness, the warmth in Bonnie’s expression turning to confusion. Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to pull the punch.
“You said you had work to do today anyway.”
“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded. “Yeah, I do. I was just getting used to our morning chats first. No worries, though. Have a good run.”
