Page 74 of On His Mind

He said it to me on the curb out front. Two fingers to his own chest, standing in front of a house he was leaving me in, and then he got in his truck and drove to the stop sign and lifted his hand.

I stare at it for a long time. I get up and get my wallet out of my jacket and put the paper behind the only other thing in it, a debit card for an account with nothing much in it. I fold it closed and set it in the drawer. Then I lie down on top of the covers with my hands behind my head.

The Hawthorne boys are loud down there. Somebody’s on the stairs. The whole floor moves when Stanley moves.

Over the summer, the silence was nice, but I hadn’t realized how much I missed the guys until they were back. Now everything feels right again. I lay in this same bed with the windows open, and I lie there and listen to them through the floor.

Chapter 20

Penelope

Thepencilsareexactlywhere I left them in May. 4H to 2B, sharpened, in the ceramic cup by the window. I sit down at the table at eight in the morning after I’ve already done my Pilates and taken a shower. I take out the 2B and sharpen it, which it doesn’t need. I lay a clean sheet of trace over the board. I hold the pencil above it. Then I put the pencil back in the cup, get up, and make tea I don’t want.

I’ve done this every morning since I’ve gotten back. I tell myself I’m tired from the flights. Then I tell myself I’m readjusting. Then I tell myself I’ve earned a slow week. But the sheet stays bare, the pencils stay sharp, and I don’t draw a single line. I drink the tea and don’t look at it again.

Ivory’s on the couch with her legs over the arm, scrolling through my Instagram grid of Portugal.

“This is stunning, Penelope. You must have designed something insane after that trip.”

She goes back to the photos, satisfied, and I look out the window and don’t reply.

Portugal wasn’t like that for me. My aunt ran dinner like an oral exam — name the architect, name the period, defend the façade, and don’t embarrass your mother, who paid for the flight. Six weeks in Chicago before that, doing work adjacent to a firm I quit, to prove a point I’m not sure anyone noticed I was making. Then six more weeks of being shown off at tables where my mother said we about my future. I was composed for the entire summer. I performed daughter, protégé, and cultured young woman across two countries and an ocean. I did it flawlessly. Now I can’t pick up a pencil.

“I’m just glad to be back,” I say.

“God, me too.” Ivory sighs. “There’s no place like this apartment.”

That isn’t what I mean.

“Okay, so, Drew,” she says, sitting up. “You are not going to believe what he did last month.”

I already believe it. She told me in July, on the phone, in full, for two hours.

“He left,” she says, “in the middle of the trip, for his cousin’s bachelor thing, and he didn’t tell me until the night before—”

I know the whole story. He didn’t tell her until the night before. I know the cousin’s name, and what Ivory said, how it resolved, and she’s telling me anyway, not forgetting a single part.

“—and I’m not dramatic,” she finishes. “I’m a person with feelings.”

“You’re not dramatic,” I agree.

“Thank you.” She flops back. “So, there’s a thing tonight. You’re coming with me. It’s a Sig Ep thing. Leah knows thehouse.” She’s already getting up. “It’s a new school year. Don’t tell me you’re still not coming out?”

Last year, I had a reason. A deadline, a studio problem, sixteen credits. I had a whole architecture of reasons.

“I’m coming,” I say.

Ivory turns around. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

She lights up. “Get dressed. We’re getting crazy tonight. Fuck Drew.”

“Fuck Drew,” I say, and I mean it about as much as I mean anything tonight, which is not at all.

I walk into my room and open my closet. I’ve missed my wardrobe here. I start digging through my clothes like tonight’s going to solve all my problems. And maybe it will. I want to be in a room too loud to think in. I’m so tired of being composed and keeping it together. For once, I’d like to let loose. And tonight is the perfect night.

Welcome back to Camden U, where the education is great, but the parties are even better.