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I needed to hear her voice. See her face.
Behind the wheel, I pointed my car in the direction of her hotel. I knew her room number and knocked to no avail. Deciding that she wasn’t back, I leaned against the wall, ready to wait as long as it took. The whey protein walking advertisement that ambled down the hall toward me an hour in had other ideas.
I could hold my own, lean and muscled with my own gym membership to show for it. I didn’t bat an eye as he flexed his muscles, giving me a once over.
“Are you a guest at the hotel, sir?”
I loosened my tie casually. “Just waiting for my girlfriend.”
He smiled like it was Christmas. It probably wasn’t often that he had the opportunity to wield actual power or authority. “Unless you’re a registered guest, I’m going to-”
I whipped out my phone, finding the number for the hotel in an instant.
He took another step. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you-”
I held up a finger, the chipper voice of the receptionist pouring out of the receiver. “Hi, yes. I’d like to make a reservation.”
The security guard’s head looked ready to explode. Two hours later, with no sign of Penny, I walked downstairs and handed over some twenties, asking the receptionist to call me when Penny returned.
The call never came.
Chapter Three: Penny
I waited until I was fairly certain that Xander would have given up hope and my sister was buckled in, her plane headed to Hawaii before I slinked back to my hotel. Even though I was far from VIP or celebrity status, I tucked my chin to my chest and hustled through the lobby. The elevator was on my side as it shuttled me up to my floor. My stomach was a twisted mess until I slipped inside my room.
I braced myself for another floral sneak attack, every square inch coated in red rose petals and regret. I flipped the light switch and heart skipped right off the cliff when there was no sign of anything but the disaster I'd left. I stepped over a pile of dirty clothes, the tangle of charging cords, and my opened suitcase. My bed covers were torn back, the pillows fluffed just right. It was like fate knew I was going to have an awful day and would need to just collapse into something warm and familiar.
I had one order of business to attend to first. I trudged to the bathroom and halfheartedly flipped the light switch. I expected to be startled by the transformation; Cinderella morphing into a wilted, rotten pumpkin. I looked the part—the braided masterpiece was now a frizzy, greasy mess with stray hairs sticking out everywhere. My skin glowed like the sun before but now I looked pale and gray. Makeup? What makeup. And the dress...
I glared at my reflection as I craned my arms behind me and pulled the ribbon, the tightness, the weight, lifting as the bodice loosened. Watching my thorough unraveling, I wasn't startled by the woman that looked back at me in nothing but a strapless bra and a silly taffeta skirt. I was ashamed.
I was twelve years old when I convinced myself that being invisible was better than being Penelope Robertson. P.E. was tantamount to water boarding for any kid unlucky enough to not be athletic or popular. After being the last one picked (and the sole reason that my team lost, even though I was one of the first to be knocked upside the head with a rubber ball), I skittered to the locker room, utterly terrified. I was sure that the captain of our team, Lisbeth Peters, was going to continue listing off all the ways I sucked. If I could have hidden in the bathroom until everyone left, I would have—but since there were only three stalls, that would have put a bigger target on my back. Instead, I picked the farthest corner of the locker room and took my precious time getting undressed. I huddled beneath the last shower head, away from Lisbeth and her friends. I clutched my brush for dear life as I stood in front of a mirror tucked in the corner, praying they wouldn't notice me. And they didn't. I was invisible. It was a victorious moment...and one of the loneliest of my life.
Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.
My newfound ability to shrink myself as tiny as possible had its perks. At home I stopped fighting my mom when she tried to force highlights and Lacoste on my body. For a woman that couldn't stop talking, my silence was a repellant and she just gave up. My sister was aglow with relief. No more loser little sis riding her coattails, no more being forced to include me in social functions. I stopped asking, and she certainly wasn't going to voluntarily pick up the mantle.
When it finally kicked in that I was disappearing, so invisible that I couldn't see myself, I fought to reclaim my voice. I wasn't trying to fit in anymore; I just wanted to exist. I discovered that I could do more than just take the name calling. I felt overwhelming pride when my teacher handed back projects and tests that I'd slaved and stressed over and there was a red A at the top of the paper. And even though I was too afraid to speak up, I glared at bullies whenever they zeroed in on other social pariahs like me.
College was a life changing experience, and not just because I finally grew into my skin and was far away enough from my family that I only saw them on holidays. Studying at a women's college I found a sense of community with other young women from all backgrounds. I learned that we all had a voice; we all had a story and it was our duty to ourselves and the world to share it. I landed my dream job and put ‘Pee Pee Penelope’ and that little girl hiding in the locker room behind me.
Or so I thought.
I dropped my eyes guiltily, jerking my hands toward the sink. The water licked my skin, but it didn't wash away the stain of regret. Unpacking all the ways today went wrong was headache inducing. I scooped a palmful of water in my mouth, gargled it, and spit it out.
I shut off the stream, the drips like cymbals crashing together. When I looked back at the mirror, I chewed my bottom lip. "I shouldn't have run."
As if something inside me shook loose and was ready to follow up that statement with 'duh', a flurry of knocks erupted at the door.
Xander!
I quickly splashed water on my face, releasing the last few strands from my braid and shook out my wild locks. I didn't have time to check if I'd actually made myself look better, tripping over stuff as I pulled on leggings and a black tunic. I almost yanked open the door, but remembered there was one other person it could be. The tightness in my chest made the steadying breath I tried to take impossible. I looked out the peephole and frowned.
My sister, who was supposed to be well on her way to Hawaii, was staring back at me.
I debated ignoring her, just climbing into bed and sticking my fingers in my ears until she went away. But children hid from the monsters under their bed—growing up meant facing your fears head on.
I opened the door, my voice as hollow as the patience that evaporated into thin air. "Why are you here?"
