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Penny arches an eyebrow. “At no point did anyone come close to going full Carrie on me.” When I don’t get the reference, she rolls her eyes. “What I went through sucked. It was one of the worst points in my life.”
I give her a pointed look.
“Except I didn’t do it alone, because Jake and Nicole didn’t ditch me. And the fact you’re going through worse? Yeah, you’re not doing that alone.” She glances around the room and shivers. “Why the hell is it so cold in here.”
“Cold-blooded killers must be kept cold.”
Pursing her lips, Penny stares at me. Then she walks over to my desk to grab my bag resting her weight briefly back against the wooden surface to wrestle the bag clasp open. Once done, she moves briskly over to my drawers and pulls out some clean underwear, pajamas, and a few items of clothing, then stuffs them into the bag. Once closed back up, she walks up to me, ignores the blood, and grabs my hand.
Once I’m on my feet, she’s leading me towards the door.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re sleeping with me from now on.”
Just as she’s about to open the door, I stop, pulling her back. “Syn put a camera outside my room.”
“Good. We can point it out to the police to look up who did this.”
“Penny!”
Turning back, Penny’s expression softens. “Okay, we’re not going to the police. You’re right. It’s a waste of time. But you can’t stay here. Your bed is ruined, and all this?” she gestures to the blood. “It’s bad enough. No one needs a cold shower in a cold room on top of that. Syn can do what he wants, but if you’re still here, and you’re still fighting despite all of this, your best friend is staying with you.”
“Best friend?”
“If you have another one, you’d best give them a call and tell them to show up.” She looks at me, and I’m not sure if she’s ready to fight an imaginary person or not.
“I’ve not spoken to you for weeks.”
Penny whips her head back with an exaggerated sigh. “Because of some bullshit noble bullshit. Which was bullshit, by the way.”
Despite everything, a grin starts to form on my face. “Was it bullshit?”
“Bull. Shit.”
The smile slips from my face as I look back at the writing on the wall. “I’m sorry. I am. I just—”
“Nope.” Penny holds a hand up. “We’re done with this discussion. Now, we’re going to my room, you’re having a hot shower, and then, if you’re still awake, I’m whipping up some hot chocolate, and you can tell me everything I’ve missed over the last few weeks. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Penny finally opens the door. There are people lingering in the hall and doorways, and the phones are up before I’m even out of my room. Although I want to keep my head up and act like this wasn’t the most embarrassing and terrifying experience of my life, I duck my head and scurry after Penny, following her into her room.
Little has changed. It’s still like a set from the Barbie movie. And right now, it’s a welcome sight. As is the warmth, even though I’m still shivering. I walk through her room to her bathroom, trying not to drip anywhere, not stopping until I’m in the shower.
Moments later, Penny appears in the bathroom, replacing the towels hanging up with fresh ones. They’re hot pink too. She disappears into the bedroom and then reappears again, this time, with my bag and a giant paper bag from Alexander McQueen. “You can put those…” She points to the clothes I’m wearing. “In here.” She sets the paper bag down beside the shower and then leaves, shutting the door behind her.
Carefully, trying not to splatter the white tiles, I pull the sodden clothes off me, ringing them out before I drop them in the bag Penny left me. I’ve barely glanced in any mirror as I’ve passed them, and I have no desire to start now. Instead, I turn on the water, sighing in the bliss of taking my first warm shower in weeks.
I stay in long past the water runs clear, waiting for the heat to take the chill away from my bones. It takes about that long for my heart to finally slow, and my thoughts to stop spiraling.
When I leave Penny’s bathroom, I find her in bed, typing furiously on her phone, but she puts it down when she sees me. “The hairdryer is out.” She points to her desk.
As I’m drying my hair, she’s up and moving to the small bookshelf she has on the other side of the room. Although our rooms have the same design, she’s got so much furniture and appliances compared to mine that it’s hard to tell. She has a small fridge and a fancy hot drinks machine that she uses to make us mugs of hot chocolate.
What I don’t realize until I’ve finished drying my hair and take a drink, is that she’s also got alcohol stashed away. If I could afford it, and I knew it wouldn’t be stolen or reported, I’d probably have my own stash.
“Irish,” Penny says, smiling after taking a sip of her drink. “Although I don’t know if anything becomes Irish if you add alcohol, or if it’s supposed to be a specific type.”
