“Live bold, be bold, lie bold,” she whispered to herself, tugging at her borrowed dress. As if calling upon Celeste’s “scammer” coffee mug for moral support would help. Strangely, it did.
Penny took a big gulp of booze. The bubbles were prickly on her throat.
“So, is he here?” she yelled at Mallory over the noise.
“Yeah. Behind the DJ booth.”
“Aren’t you going to say hi?”
“No way. He has to say hi to me first,” she said. “He’s visiting me.”
A moment later a Blasian dude with a beard sidled over to them. He had green eyes and blindingly white teeth.
“Hey,” he said to Jude, eyes at half-mast.
“Hey,” the three girls responded just as listlessly.
“Is this your party?” he asked Jude.
“It’s my friend’s,” Penny heard her say.
Mallory pulled out a vape pen and inhaled. Penny watched the little blue LED light and wondered what was in it. Jude took it after her, and when she handed it to Penny, Penny shook her head. She had smoked weed only once, with Mark, and it made her fantastically paranoid. The constant stream of neurotic questions in her mind multiplied and amplified. It made Penny-head Pennier. It would be perfect if she had an anxiety attack at the party.
“Hey, baby.” Ben hugged Mallory from behind, and she squealed. He resembled the guy in the music videos only with a head so big it would’ve looked at home with smaller heads orbiting it. Mallory swiveled around, and they shared a lusty kiss. Penny had to hand it to her. She knew how to play it cool.
He drew Mallory into a dark corner.
With Mallory gone, Penny felt as if the locus of power of their circle had disappeared. She checked her phone battery. Fifty-four percent. Plenty to call a cab if she needed to. Jude and the green-eyed guy were deep in conversation, and when it was time for him to hit up the bar, Jude glanced at Penny to see if it was okay. Penny nodded. There was only one answer to those kinds of questions anyway. Jude followed her new friend and left Penny behind.
Penny stood in the middle of the room ignoring everyone as hard as she could and drank her drink.
She tried to conjure someone glamorous yet mighty—fierce—and thought of Jean Grey, a.k.a. Phoenix, arguably the most powerful mutant in the whole Marvel Universe. But then she remembered how Jean sorta lost her mind and didn’t wind up with Logan, a.k.a. Wolverine, who she so clearly should have been with. Then she thought about Sam. And how he was a total Wolverine and that’s when Penny became horribly depressed.
Screw it.
She marched over to the bartenders, got another champagne, and walked around. She made her way toward the front where a white wall was projected with different images of eyes. Cat’s eyes. Human eyes. Lizard eyes.
Ugh, why do people go to these things? There was no biological imperative for it. Was there any other species on earth that prized popularity the way people did? Did lemurs hang around preening in a never-ending competition of pretending to be over it? Humans were gross.
Penny recognized the guy who had let them in and tried to hold his gaze but failed. He whispered to the eyebrowless girl next to him before they both turned away.
The eyes projected onto the wall morphed into a sunrise.
The “show,” or whatever this was, was probably cool if you were on drugs. Not that it would have made a difference. Everyone was on their phones.
Penny leaned up against a wall and pulled out hers. She considered reading Sam’s old texts, as she often did when she had time alone, but resisted.
“Penelope?”
Whoever it was, he was tall and backlit. She walked into the light. It was Andy, from J.A.’s class. Penny couldn’t at all get a read on him. He often defended her writing in class, but the only direct interaction they’d ever had was an argument about whether or not Dr. Gaius Baltar was irredeemable in the TV miniseries of Battlestar Galactica. It wasn’t a fight Penny was invested in. Arguing with hard-core BSG fans was tedious. The only reason she engaged with him was to see if his English accent was real. Andy made her feel competitive as the class’s only other Asian, which didn’t even make any sense.
It was odd seeing people out of context. Like running into your priest at the 7-Eleven or catching Dr. Greene outside of Jude’s Skype window. Seeing your classmate in his “going out” shirt in the middle of the night felt like a glitch in the Matrix. He was with another dude. Shorter, brown-haired—with a face like a weak handshake—he wore white jeans and mirrored sunglasses. Sam would have had a field day.
“Uh, hey,” she said.
Andy leaned in, took her forearms, and air-kissed both of her cheeks. To Penny, who didn’t know what was happening, the first kiss was scandalizing, the second completely mortifying.
He smelled of laundry detergent, chewing gum, and boy deodorant.
“This is Penelope,” he shouted to his friend. “She goes to UT as well.
“This is Pete. He’s kind of a twat.” He whispered the last part so close to her ear Penny withdrew reflexively.
“Lovely to meet you,” said Pete, checking her out in a way that was less about appreciating her outfit and more about being caught eyeing her. Blargh. Penny wished she were wearing a hoodie. “Shall I get us another round?” asked Pete.
“Fantastic idea,” said Andy. “Grab me a beer. Penny, what are you having?”
“Champagne.”
“Prosecco likely,” remarked Pete. Penny could tell he was making fun of her, though she couldn’t tell exactly how.
“So,” said Andy. Penny delighted in how Andy’s Asian cheeks were as ruddy as hers from the booze.
“I have a question.” He cleared his throat.
Penny nodded.
“Do you know where the hell we are?” he asked. “Pete, who again, for the record, is a terrible person, dragged me here.”
Penny smiled. “No idea!” she yelled into his ear. “A girl who possibly hates me brought me.”
“Perhaps as punishment,” he noted.
“Perhaps,” she echoed, and found herself giggling.
“Do you need to get back to her?” he asked. Penny noticed how twinkly his eyes were.
“How about I wait for your obnoxious friend to bring us drinks.” Penny wasn’t sure she should keep drinking except that she preferred it to idly waiting for Jude or Mallory to return from making out with their dudes.
Andy surveyed the room. “Clearly we need better friends; this place is hideous.”
“It’s possibly the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” she agreed.
He shook his head, dimples deepening. “This whole night has been insane,” he said.
“Penny! There you are.” Jude grabbed her shoulder and handed her another red cup, splashing some onto her hand. “Where have you beeeen?”
Jude hung on to the last word long enough that Penny knew she was drunk or high. Or at least solidly on her way to both.
“Heeeeeeeey,” she said to Andy.
“Heeeeeeeey,” he responded, subtly nudging Penny with his elbow.
“Jude, this is . . .”
“Andy,” he said, shaking Jude’s hand. Jude’s gaze lingered over him.
“He’s a dear, dear friend,” Penny finished. It wasn’t a complete lie.
“Fun,” said Jude, widening her eyes approvingly.
She was right. Penny was surprised to realize, she was kind of, maybe, actually having fun.
? ? ?
When Penny opened her eyes the next morning her mouth tasted of wet wool socks that had stewed in a car for a month.
Kill me now.
Jude snored lightly.
Penny was dressed in last night’s outfit with the addition of half a quesadilla, perched jauntily on her chest like a cheese-filled piece of statement jewelry. She had zero recollection of stopping for something to eat. As for how she got home, that remained mysterious as well. Penny sat up, head pounding, laid the old food gently on her nightstand, and picked up her phone.
Six a.m.
1 NEW MESSAGE
Today 2:57 AM
Hi