Page 54 of While the Sun Shines

“And I won’t pretend there haven’t been some choice words here and there,” Abelardo says. He claps Drew on the shoulder. “Though she did tell me that I’m not allowed to give you some God-awful, bro-ish lecture about not hurting her.”

“I—” I’m supposed to be the one saying that, Drew thinks. To some boyfriend or girlfriend, someday, some person who Drew has to figure out how to make nice with. Don’t fucking hurt her, he always pictured himself saying, heartsick and nauseous. He tries for a smile. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

“So I won’t,” Abelardo says. “I mean, whatever happens between you two, at least you’re not Travis, right?”

Drew laughs. Wipes his hand over his face, shakes his head behind it. Travis, with his life together, an actual, real job. A nice car. He could take Penny out to dinner and not worry about the price of the bill when it comes. And Travis would take her out, too, if Penny gave even half a hint that she wanted to spend time with him.

Fuck, Drew thinks. Lonely, he hears in Penny’s voice again.

Abelardo pulls out a piece of paper with Whit’s writing on it. “So okay. Fencing?”

Whatever happens, Drew thinks.

“This way,” he says and leads Abelardo to the right aisle.

Outside, it’s still raining, soaking into his hair and seeping up his pants as he walks across the parking lot.

He can see Penny, slumped against the window in the passenger seat of the truck. Lonely, lonely, he hears again. Thinks of her wiping quickly at her eyes. Gently, he taps at her window, and Penny looks at him for a long moment before she rolls it down.

“Can we hang out later?” he asks.

“When is later?”

Her eyes are red. It hits him right in the stomach.

“Whenever. Whenever you want. I’ve been a really shitty friend.”

“Yeah. You have been.”

“Okay.” When he nods, it’s slow, his chin dipping down to his chest before he pulls his eyes back up. “I—I don’t want to be. Because you’re—Pen, you’ve been such a rock for me and I haven’t done that for you and I want to fix that.”

“So fucking do something about it.”

“Do you want to eat donuts all day?”

She smiles. A sad, small smile, but a smile all the same. “Yes, but don’t you have Julie’s party?”

“Julie’s—oh.”

Julie, he thinks. And glances at Penny, who sniffs, folds a napkin in half, and blows her nose.

Yeah, he’s been a shitty friend. Probably a shitty nephew, too. He’s never visited Bert and Mary in their new home, has he? Or seen his Aunt Lucy much in the last couple years.

Drew wasn’t ever going to Julie’s party. Not even with this rain. Didn’t think to send her a present, a card, wasn’t going to even remember to text her congratulations.

“Okay,” he says softly.

“Okay what?”

“I—” He leans in to look at the clock on the truck’s dashboard. It’s late morning already and a couple hours drive to Syracuse…if he leaves now, he can maybe make it. “What time does Julie’s party start?”

“You’re asking me what time your cousin’s party starts?”

“No, I’m not, I’m—” He yanks out his phone. He has an email, right? He’s got to. Or a text. Or a voicemail. His fingers are too wet to unlock the screen.

Penny blows out a sigh. “It starts at one thirty.”

“Do you want to come? To Julie’s. Aunt Lucy will be there. You two can complain about me.”