Page 42 of On His Mind

Tonight I’m at her place. Her phone lights up on the counter, and she glances at it. Her whole face goes flat and careful for a second, and she turns it over.

“My boss,” she says. “Oliver.” She gestures because she’s mentioned him before. I nod. “He thinks I’m coming out to celebrate New Year’s with him.” She shakes her head. “I’m not.”

I don’t understand enough about her life to know what’s going on with her boss. But every time she mentions him, I feel uncomfortable. But I let the discomfort go, same as I did with Theo. I look at her rosy cheeks. They’re not from the cold. She’s dressed up to celebrate the New Year.

Near midnight, she pulls out a clean sheet of paper and a pen. She writes ‘New Year’s Resolutions’ at the top, and under it, she starts laying out what she wants. Out loud, half to me and half to herself. Where she wants to be by summer. What she wants finished. Ideas she wants to pursue. She thinks about the whole year in front of her, like she does this all the time. I watch her hand move, and I can’t look away.

“What do you want this year?” she asks, not looking up.

My mouth opens. Nothing comes. The future is not present in my head. It’s always been one foot in front of the other. I’ve spent my whole life unable to see past the end of the week, because the week was the farthest thing that was ever safe to look at. And here she is writing twelve months down like they belong to her, and I don’t have the first idea how to want something that far off.

But something I do want comes up all at once, and my chest goes tight. Because what I want is this. I don’t want to think about where I’ll be in a year because so much can fucking change. And that’s the thing I don’t like coming back to –– I have no control over who’s still in my life and who’s not because people come and go, things change, and thinking about a year from now means I have to consider all that has changed.

“I don’t know,” I tell her, swallowing the lump in my throat.

She smiles down at the paper and lets me keep the lie.

“Well, what are you most proud of since last New Year’s Eve?” she asks simply, but it hits like a gut punch.

Last year, I was wide awake in my bedroom in Josh’s house, listening to one of the new foster kids cry. This past year, I hadno idea what to expect. A lot had changed. I graduated high school, which felt like a joke at the time. I focused on hockey, secured the scholarship, and made it to Camden University. If someone told me I’d be standing in Penelope Ventura’s immaculate apartment on New Year’s Eve on the tiny chance that she’d be alone for the holidays too, I’d say there’s no fucking way. All of it is impossible, yet here I am.

“Coming to Camden,” I answer, and it’s the most honest one I’ve got.

She smiles. “Yeah, that’s a good one.”

“You?”

She thinks. “I loved Lake Como. Have you ever been?”

I open my mouth, and then I close it. Do I look like a guy who’s ever been to Lake Como? Where the fuck is that anyway? Is that in Michigan?

“No.”

“Oh, something that I’m proud of?” she says, standing tall and looking out of the window. “Saying no to my mom.”

I look at her.

“I’ve spent my whole life doing everything that she says.” She looks like she’s deep in thought.

“So,” I point at her paper. “Is that something on your list?”

She nods. “You’re right. I will write that one down.” She looks at it and slides a piece of paper. “For your resolutions.”

I look at it.

“Come on. You have to have one goal.” She hands me the pen.

I take the paper under me, sliding it over on the counter. I stare at the blank sheet.

I write in my chicken scratch handwriting:Have a good year.

Chapter 10

Penelope

It’sthefirstmorningof the spring semester, and I’m excited to get back into my regular routine. I do yoga at six, all forty minutes of it this time with no interruptions. I drink my lemon water and then shower. I wear tights under my jeans, because January in Camden is still biting weather. By seven-forty, I’m heading to campus with a coffee I made myself.

I haven’t spoken to Percy since New Year’s Eve. He hasn’t texted me. I haven’t texted him. That’s all of it. There’s nothing to resolve. It’s the only relationship in my life that doesn’t require anything of me. I find it restful. I put my phone in my bag and go to class.