His gaze flickers over me. “Pining?”
“Yes. Pining.”
For a moment, Penn just looks at me. His lips are parted, but he doesn’t say anything. I can’t tell if he’s going to kiss me or make a joke or ruffle my hair. I can’t tell if he’s even breathing.
I start to say something, anything, just to break the ice. But then the door swings open, and we both turn. Ryan pauses a few feet away, looking between us.
“Car’s here,” he says, pointing toward a pair of headlights down the block.
Penn faces me, his eyes mirroring all the hope and fear I’m feeling, decades of unspoken words and blurred timelines and a thousand tiny threads tugging between us.
“You go ahead,” I tell Ryan. But I’m still staring at Penn, and his expression shifts, the sun rising across his face, warm and bright.
When I look at my brother again, he’s smiling, too. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.” He clears his throat, then squeezes Penn’s shoulder, giving me one last nod as he finishes zipping his coat. “You two have fun, alright? And watch out for that tequila, Ru.”
He grins at me and leaves, and Penn runs a hand through his hair, his head dipping on a low laugh. He stares down at the sidewalk, last week’s snow now a gray slush at our feet. When he meets my eyes again, he wears a nervous, tilted grin. “I have something for you.”
I straighten, surprised. “Did Theo make a PennPals bucket hat for me, too? Really crossing my fingers for one.”
Penn reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a folded-up piece of paper. “Here.” He drops it into my palm before shoving his hands back into his coat.
I thumb the well-worn page, then arch him a teasing look. “You wrote me a note?”
“No. It’s a to-do list.”
“You know how I love a to-do list. What’s it for?”
“Senior year.”
“Of high school?” I laugh in disbelief. “And you held on to it?”
He shrugs. “I found it in that old business-idea notebook I was telling you about. It was in a shoebox at the back of my closet.”
Curious, I unfold the page, Penn’s horrific chicken scratch unmistakable. “Why are you giving this to me?” I ask, glancing up to search his eyes.
Snowflakes drift off the awning overhead, floating in the air between us.
“Because nothing’s changed, Ruby.”
My eyes trace his face for clues again before I start reading.There’s no date on the page, and very few words. Teenage Penn got right to the point.
TO DO:
Save money.
Chill with Ryan.
Read3020 books.
