All the Rage(22)

“You better not.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Holly steps into the kitchen, shaking her head and muttering to herself. I disrespected her and it’s not okay but it is so small compared to what I’m up against right now. I grab the Coke and head back. The country song playing in the background is blurring into one long, sad note and when I reach Penny’s booth, I’m shaking with anger I can do nothing about. I set the glass down, spilling some of the drink onto the table. I watch a little of it waterfall onto the floor. I take a rag from my pocket and sop it up quickly.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Nothing. I want to talk to you.”

“What?”

“I want to talk to you and then I’ll leave.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen, Penny, so I guess I’ll get the check—” She grabs my arm. I try to jerk away but she holds fast. Touching me without permission. There should be a death penalty for that. I watch her pink nails dig into my skin but I don’t feel it. “Let go.”

She says, “Please.”

I can’t remember Penny ever saying please to me, not even when we were friends. Why waste time on a word like please when you’re going to get what you want anyway? It’s not right coming out of her mouth. It’s so wrong, some part of me thinks she shouldn’t have to say it, ever.

“How did you know I work here?”

“Grey, we’ve always known.”

She says this and I feel some small part of me leaving.

She lets go of my arm.

“Sit down,” she says and I do, but not because she asked me to—because I need to.

I ease into the booth and the back of my thighs instantly stick to the vinyl. The diner sounds swell, people eating, talking, dishes clattering in the kitchen, the sizzle of the grill. I don’t look at her. Don’t say anything.

“So is it true?” she asks. “About the DUI?”

It forces eye contact. Maybe this close she’s not as perfect as I’ve said. Maybe she’s got flaws or maybe I need to see them so badly right now, I’m pretending. Maybe that’s a sunburn across her nose. Maybe her lips are dry and maybe her skin is flaking a little, just under her chin. She chews her bottom lip.

“I know it’s not true,” she admits. “And I didn’t know about the underwear.” I give her a look that doesn’t believe it. She concedes: “I knew Brock got Tina to take it for Alek, but I didn’t know what they were planning.”

“What do you want, Penny?”

She smiles but it’s not really a smile, just a twitch that briefly takes both corners of her mouth up. She brings her hand to her forehead like a thought wants out but she’s not sure of it enough to say. A memory skips across my mind, lays itself over this moment. Her, excited, about to change lives.

The Turners’ house. It’s going to be you, me, Alek, and …

Not here.

“Shouldn’t you be at the lake?”

You, me, Alek and …


“Kellan,” she says, like she can see inside me. I flinch. His name is hard enough to think, but spoken aloud it’s a weapon. That hard Kel—a knife going in sharp and easy the less resistance it has to meet—lan.

“No,” I say.

“I—”

“No.” I say it louder because she must not have heard it if she’s still talking.

“Alek took me to Godwit for my birthday. We stayed with Kellan,” she says, and I stare at the little beads of condensation slowly dripping down the outside of her glass while her voice—her voice. “We went to a club he likes, Sparrow. He and Alek went to get drinks. There was this girl—she came up to me.” She pauses. “She saw me with Kellan. She told me it wasn’t safe to be alone with him. She wouldn’t say why, but the look on her face…”

Less real, I think. I need this to be less real.

“The look on yours.”

It’s not—my face. I shake my head, my eyes still on the glass. No—no. Fuck her. Fuck her for saying that. You can’t just see something like that on someone’s face.

You can’t.

“You didn’t report it. You can still report it,” she says and I reach under the table, dig my nails into one of the scabs on my knees until the wet tells me it’s open. “I looked it up. You still have time. If you do it—something would have to happen.”

I almost laugh, but my voice has left me. The chance of that happening is as dead as the girl Penny’s talking about and that’s what I really want to say to her. She died, Penny, you know that? You know all the ways you can kill a girl?

God, there are so many.

“I wasn’t even going to tell you. But then I saw you in the hall picking at that mannequin and I—” She looks away. “I can’t make it right. I can’t make it right with you, Romy. I know that. But what happens if another girl—”

“Then get her to report it,” I say.

I have to get out of this booth. I need to get out of this booth and do my job but I can’t move. Penny waits. She waits and I don’t move and I don’t say anything and then she goes into her pocket and tosses a few bills on the table. More than enough to cover the order. She slides out of the booth and I sit there stupidly, staring at the crumpled money.