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IWASN’TGOINGTOFOLLOW HER. I really wasn’t.
But I just so happened to pull out of my driveway the same moment she was pulling out of hers. We worked at the same place, so naturally, we had the same commute. I pulled into the parking lot directly behind her but parked a respectable distance away. Four spaces. I planned to hang around inside my truck and allow her time to get into the classroom without it appearing that I was following her. Except, when I watched her enter the school, I noticed her make a right turn towards the east wing, not a left toward our classroom. Instinctively, I found myself climbing out of my Bronco. I knew she was heading toward the teacher’s lounge, and I had no reason to head towards the teacher’s lounge, if the thermos in my left hand held any indication. I also knew there was a creepy guy with a wormy face who looked at her like she was his next meal, and he was roaming the school. So, despite my understanding that she could take care of herself, I followed her.
My intuition proved to be my ally when I saw Marshall conveniently leave the gym right as she passed the doors. I quickly dumped the contents of my thermos in a passing water fountain to make it appear that I had some reason to find myself in the teacher’s lounge before school started. I tried not to think too much about the fact I would now be subjected to the shitty break room coffee rather than the good stuff I kept at home. I strolled into the lounge casually but couldn’t help but glance at her as I entered. To my surprise, her eyes were glued to me, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think I noticed a bit of a blush creep up her neck. She looked away quickly and appeared to hide a smile.
Despite attempting to be large enough to accommodate the entire faculty, very few people used the lounge. Some would filter in to grab coffee in the morning, or heat up their lunch, and then filter back into their respective classrooms. In the two weeks I’d been working here, I’d become accustomed to doing the same. I spent most of my day in the art studio, or the office adjoining it when Penelope’s classes were in session. I noticed that though most teachers kept to their classrooms, Penelope and her friends didn’t so much. They spent a lot of time in the break room. Macie seemed to be the tether that anchored them together. I was glad Penelope had found that in Macie. Penelope always seemed to need a person that kept her tied together. There were certain aspects of life that Penelope seemed unsure of, or maybe afraid of. Some things she couldn’t do alone.
Walking into a crowded room.
Speaking to a large group of people.
Making new friends.
Kissing someone without first being pulled into a dark closet by them.
She lacked courage, I suppose, in certain situations. However, in others, she was fiercely independent. School work when we were younger, for example. She’d never welcome help or assistance with it, never asked questions. Each problem was hers to figure out alone. She excelled at that. I believe that could bleed over into all aspects of her life. Fiercely independent in her refusal to ask for help– even when she needed it. Even in scenarios where she lacked courage, even in the things she couldn’t do alone, she would not ask for help with them. She avoided them. She’d never had a lot of friends, never willingly entered social situations, even turned down being Valedictorian for our high school to avoid giving the speech.
Sometimes I wonder how she was able to move across the world and attend college all on her own. How she moved to a place she’d never been, knowing not a single soul. That was how I knew her lack of courage was a choice, and not simply just who she was. Because she chose to have courage in order to chase her education. She was courageous and independent and impassioned in her quest for knowledge since we were children. Always curious, always wanting to know everything about the world around her. It made me wonder what might have changed, because the passionate person I used to know, the one who wanted—who needed—to know everything, seemed to have disappeared from the person I watched sitting with her friends and drinking coffee. As if she wanted to be the smartest person in the room, but she didn’t want anyone to know she was the smartest person in the room. That made me sad because she should want people to know that. She should be known for that.
When we were kids, she went through a phase where she was obsessed with the Lost City of Atlantis. She would watch documentaries on it and fall down endless rabbit holes of YouTube conspiracies. I wasn’t surprised to have learned that she graduated with a degree in archaeology. I knew when we were younger, she was most interested in Oxford because of its proximity to Stonehenge. She always had a thing for the Wonders of the World, especially the ancient ones. Maybe that’s what she was doing on the other side of the world, still looking for Atlantis. Or maybe now she’s given up.
I was pulled from my thoughts as I watched Marshall’s arm come around her back, coiling its way around her shoulder, where his fingers brushed against her collarbone. Her body flexed at his touch–no, more like recoiled and tensed. The tightness around her shoulders made her collarbone become that much more pronounced, poking just above the neckline of her copper sweater.
Fuck. I love her collarbones.
I felt ill as I watched another man’s hand brush along that part of her. The thought of any man touching any part of her made my stomach jump– but him, especially, made me sick. As if I’d actually expressed that thought out loud, her head snapped up to mine. I only knew I hadn’t said it because nobody else looked at me. She shook off The Worm’s arm and stood, grabbing her coffee mug that was still half full, and walked over to me. His eyes followed her before landing on me and narrowing in a glare. I was standing with my back against the counter, facing the room. When she reached the sink, she poured her coffee down the drain.
Without turning around, she said, “Macie told me everything.” I assumed she meant about The Worm, about that night at the bar. I hoped it meant that Macie had the same feeling I had about him. That whatever she had told Penelope had been a warning. “When I first started, he was nice. He was charming, actually,” she scoffed in disbelief. “It was a fucking performance. One he gave to women often. But Macie knows him well, and as she and I grew closer, he made his…intentionsclear.” She shivered. “But I didn’t think he was dangerous. I knew he was into me, but I thought he was always just messing around.” Her voice broke with fear. “I guess a few weeks ago Jeremy asked him why he hadn’t given up on me yet. Marshall claimed that it was just a matter of time. That the easiest way to get to me would be to get me drunk. Jeremy never told Macie that. I guess he thought it was a joke.”
“Fucking pig.”
“How did you know?” she asked. “I mean, I’ve been working with him for six months and it took me that long to see it. Jeremy and Macie have known him foryears, but you figured it out right away.”
I sighed, knowing the truth was because I was always watching her myself. Always protective even when she didn’t need it. “He was acting possessive over you from the moment he met me. Like he thought I was a threat.” I looked at her. “The only reason he’d find me a threat was if he thought he had some sort of claim on you already, and I could tell you didn’t return his interests. So, that was the first red flag.” I shrugged. “Plus, he looks like a fucking worm.”
Penelope laughed, loudly. So loud that the rest of the room stood stared at the two of us. Her face brightened as she threw her head back. For someone who hated the spotlight, she sure knew how to pull a room to attention. I thought I noticed a small smile creep from the corner of Macie’s mouth. She said something loudly, pulling the attention back to her. It almost felt like she was trying to give Penelope and I privacy.
“Why are they still talking to him, then?”
“Marshall and Jeremy are roommates,” she sighed. “But Macie hates him. She’s only tolerating him because we’re at work. She’s refusing to go to their house anymore and demanding Jeremy find a way out of their lease.” I nodded. She turned fully to her side, looking at the thermos in my hands. “Did you actually need coffee, or did you just come in here because you saw him follow me?” I felt my cheeks grow red and I stared down at my feet. When I didn’t respond, she looked at me. “Thanks.”
“Anytime–”
“Pep. You know that,” she finished for me, a soft smile on her lips.
We both chuckled before The Worm broke the laughter. “Penelope?”
She grumbled, “Yeah?”
“I was just asking about trivia this week. You’re still going, right?”
Just then, the first bell rang, signaling that school was starting in ten minutes. “I can’t,” Penelope muttered, setting her mug in the sink.
“We can’t either,” Macie said. “Dinner with my parents, remember?” she asked Jeremy, nudging his ribs lightly. He nodded quickly as both stood up and gathered their things before heading off in the direction of their respective classrooms.
Penelope turned to follow them out, but before stepping away she whispered in my ear, “We’re definitely still going. You should come too.”
I filed out the door behind her, failing to hide the stupid grin that accented my features. The Worm sat in the same spot he’d been in since I walked in, staring at the doorway his friends left out of with an annoyed, if not concerned, look on his face.
