Another eye roll. “You are such a drama queen. We’re talking about you and Mr. Math. Penny, he spent the night. Like, what the fuck does that even mean?”
I shrugged and drew a little circle on the table with my finger. “It means I got pancakes and morning sex.”
“Don’t do that. I’m serious. This is a big deal.”
“I know, but we’re not … I dunno. Calling it anything. We’re just letting it be what it is,” I said simply.
“And how long do you think that’ll last?”
I chuffed, my emotions bubbling and steaming and hissing with uncertainty and anxiety. “God, why are you being such a dick about it? I don’t know what it is. I just know that I like him. I like him a lot. I want to be around him all the time, and I want to tell him stuff and let him sleep in my bed. And the whole thing freaks me the fuck out without you on my ass, so maybe just lay off a little.”
Her face softened. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just … I want you to be happy and okay, and I’m a little scared for you.”
I sighed and sagged in my chair. “Me too. Ronnie, I don’t know how to do this. Like, I have no chill when I really like a guy.”
“In fairness, the last guy you really, really liked was in high school.”
“And he made me crazy. Courtney Love, rip-down-the-curtains, where-the-fuck-is-my-man crazy. For two years. And through the whole thing, he treated me like shit, and when I lost my mind, he’d just press his finger to my forehead, and I’d calm down and give him whatever the fuck he wanted.” My chest ached at the memory.
She sighed. “But he was manipulating you.”
“Fuck yeah, he was. You know, one time, he called me at two thirty in the morning just to say hi. I thought it was so cute and sweet that he was thinking about me, and I asked him where he was. And you know what he told me? That he was at Anna Dorf’s house — that skank. Motherfucker knew I hated her — she had the biggest thing for Rodney and didn’t even pretend to hide it — and he straight-up told me that was where he was. He told me to stop being crazy. So of course, I’m upset trying to figure out if he was fucking with me, and we’re going back and forth, and he’s getting meaner, and I’m getting more and more pissed. And then I heard him ask someone for syrup.”
“Syrup?”
“Yeah, because he wasn’t at Anna’s house. He was somewhere getting breakfast food. So I hung up on him. I got dressed and got in my car. There were two places he could get pancakes at that time in Santa Cruz.” I held up two fingers for dramatic effect. “IHOP, where he wasn’t, and House of Pie, where he was. I marched into that motherfucker, stomped over to his table, stuck my finger in his face, and told him never to lie to me about where he was because I’d fucking find him. He looked at me like he was scared to death of me, and he was probably wise to be afraid because I was in a full-blown psychotic break. And just like that, he pulled me onto his lap and laughed and told me he was only joking and that he loved me. The worst part is that by the time he got to the apology or diversion or whatever it was, I wasn’t even mad anymore.”
Veronica blinked, surprised, and I felt ashamed.
“I told you. Crazy. Psycho. I don’t want to go psycho on Bodie. I don’t want to wig out and scare him off, but all of this is … it’s happening, and I don’t know if I can even stop it. I don’t want to stop whatever’s going on between us, but I’m scared.”
The admission spilled out of me, and the truth of it dragged my high down to the bottom of the ocean.
But Veronica reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Pen, listen, that’s Peggy talking.”
“Ugh, fucking Peggy!” I groaned.
“Exactly. She’s trying to sabotage you, but don’t let her. Fuck that bitch.”
I didn’t respond — I was too busy feeling sorry for myself — so she kept going with more determination.
“You are the toughest chick I know, and the very last thing I expect from you is to let fear stop you from doing anything. Jump out of the plane, Pen. Because Bodie isn’t Rodney — he’s not going to manipulate you or hurt you, not on purpose. Plus, you aren’t sixteen; you’re twenty-six. You’ve lived and learned, and you can do this. Bodie’s worth the risk even if you fail.”
I dropped my eyes to the table.
“You aren’t going to fail.”
I still didn’t say anything.
“Okay, how about this? Let’s come up with a … safe word of sorts. If you feel the psycho coming on, you just text me the safe word, and I’ll save you. I’ll be your shot of whiskey. I’ll be your fucking life jacket.”
I perked up a little. “Maybe that’ll work. Can I pick the safe word?”
She laughed. “Of course.”
I smiled as filthy words rolled through my head, but it didn’t feel like a Dirty Sanchez sort of a safe-word situation. “Hmm,” I hummed, thinking. Then I snapped my fingers. “Bear trap.”
Her eyebrows shifted; one went up, and one went down. “Bear trap?”
I sat up a little straighter in my seat. “Yeah, like I’m skipping through the forest, minding my own shit, and then — wham. Bear trap. Totally derailed, chew-my-own-foot-off crazy.”
Veronica chuckled. “I like it. So you just say the word, and I’ll spring the trap so you won’t have to eat off an appendage.”
I sighed, feeling relieved. “I like this plan. Plans are good.”
“Plans are great. And you know what?”
“What?” I asked hopefully.
She smiled with knowledge and understanding, and I felt a zillion times better.
“You’re going to be okay.”
And I was dumb and desperate enough to actually believe her.
14
#THINGSTHATARELIES
Bodie
Phil shook his head and pushed away from his desk. “I can’t fucking figure this out, man.”
I rubbed my bleary eyes with the pads of my fingers and rolled over so I could see his monitor, scanning the code, looking for errors.
“Here.” I tapped the screen. “You divided by zero, and it’s terminating.”
Phil groaned. “I’m so tired. We can’t keep going on like this.”
I nodded. “Look, we’ll get caught up tonight if we can keep our shit together. And tomorrow, you can sleep all day.”
Angie appeared behind him with a plate of brownies, her big brown eyes shining. “Sounds like it’s time for a break.”
“Oh, sweet,” Jude said, leaning over to swipe one. “Man, I’m starving,” he said with his mouth full.
“Maybe we could order another pizza,” Phil offered.
I glanced around at our desks — a graveyard of plates, coffee cups, napkins, and empty cans of Red Bull. “We had pizza yesterday.”
“And the day before,” Jude added.
Angie lit up. “Let me make you guys dinner.”
Phil rested a hand on her hip. “You don’t have to do that, babe.”
She shrugged and smiled. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll make something easy. How does spaghetti sound? I’ll run down and grab a salad and some French bread too, and make it extra fancy with sausage instead of beef.”
My mouth watered at the thought. “So much better than pizza. You’re an angel, Angie.”
She blushed and waved a hand, giggling; the sound was like tinkling bells. All three of us smiled back at her.
Jude jerked a chin at Phil. “You picked a good one, Philly.”