Chapter 21 The Lov-ers
The Lov-ers
“Couples’ skate!” Theo bellows. “This one’s for the lov-ers.”
I stand alone at the snack bar, and, looking around, I don’t see Penn. Or Bridget. Or Ryan. My brother deserted me a long time ago, ostensibly to get skates, but knowing him, he’s somewhere exchanging numbers and deep-seated traumas with a stranger.
My shoulders slump as I down a kiwi-strawberry Snapple, and before I close it, I flip over the lid to read my Snapple fact: Mangoes can get sunburned. I show the cap to the teenage boy leaning on the counter beside me, and he meets my eyes with a dead stare.
A low point—one soundtracked by Maroon 5, no less.
I carry a pack of Gushers to a nearby table to wallow in peace. Although my conversation with Sloane felt like a sure victory, I’m stumped on what to do next. And even with so much of Lakeville showing up tonight, and my brother flying across the world to be here, I feel achingly alone.
I love so much about this place, but it isn’t enough. Because it isn’t real.
Penn comes into view, and I’m not sure if I want to laugh or cry. He’s leading Mrs. Baker around on skates, and it’s a harrowing sight. I should’ve insisted that the guests sign waivers.
“You certainly don’t like him for how he looks on wheels,” Bridget mutters, sinking into the chair next to me. “But that’s sweet of him, taking Mrs. Baker out there. And…random?”
I’ve kept Penn’s secret. I haven’t told Bridget about PennPals, and it’s maybe a first for me, keeping something from her.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
She bites her lip, eyes glittering. “Ethan just got here. I’ll introduce you later. Your brother has him cornered. I left after he delivered a monologue about Italian leather shoes.”
I snort out a laugh. “Sounds about right. I can’t wait to meet him.”
Bridget told me Ethan shares my nerdy chess obsession, and they’ve been playing together during their movie marathons.
She’s busy educating him on all the best teen movies from the eighties, while he’s introduced her to the world of sci-fi films. I asked her to pass along any recommendations that might shed light on my alternate-reality predicament.
“I have a good feeling about this one,” she says, wistful. “So, when you get back to your real world, if I’m being a brat about the fact that Ethan wears rip-away pants, please inform me how hot it will be when I get to do the ripping, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree, grinning. But Bridget must sense that I’m feeling off, because she leans in, a concerned dent between her brows.
“Hey,” she says, nudging me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I try to smile again. “Really. I couldn’t be happier about tonight. The party’s been great. Perfect. Everything I hoped it would be, honestly.”
“But?”
I take a deep breath, turning away as I shudder it out.
It’s no use trying to pretend with Bridget.
“This world is starting to mean too much to me,” I admit.
Just watching Penn skate with Mrs. Baker has my heart growing too big for my rib cage.
“There’s everything with Penn, and you and Ryan are doing so well, and that makes it complicated.
Part of me wants to stay here and see how all of this plays out.
But a bigger part of me wants to get back to reality so I have the chance to do everything right.
And ten days in, I still don’t know how to manage it. ”
Bridget sets a hand over mine. “We’ll figure it out,” she says softly. “It’ll be okay.”
“You’ve said that all along, B, and I’ve tried to believe it, but this isn’t okay anymore.
I’m not okay.” My voice is shaky. So are my hands.
“I’ve tried so hard to stay on track and play this game right, but I’m missing out on my life because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
I followed the only rules that made sense, and when that didn’t work, I tried rewriting them, again and again, but it’s no use. And maybe—maybe I’ve already lost.”
I put a hand to my chest, right over my racing heart, and She dips to look at me, her eyes resolute.
“Respectfully,” she says. “Fuck the rules.”
“What?”
“You said you’ve tried everything, right? That you’ve followed the rules, and rewritten them, and nothing worked.” She shrugs. “So why don’t you try throwing them out?”
My pulse quickens as I stare back at her, struck by the straightforward look in her eye. When Bridget means business, she’s means business, and she’s right. I know she is, because the words don’t scare me—they thrill me.
I know exactly what it would look like for me to throw out the rules. I know the very first thing I would do. Who I’d turn to. What I’d tell him.
And I want to. It’s as if some key has turned inside my chest, unlocking the impulse I’ve been fighting all along, and I no longer have a choice.
I have to do it. I’m going to tell him everything.
All of it. No matter what else happens, at least Penn will know how I feel.
And I’ll get to escape the misery of what if.
“I’ve got to find him,” I tell Bridget. “Like, now.”
She grins, but as I start to stand, she stops me. “Wait.” Reaching into my hair, she says, “You can’t profess your love wearing butterfly clips.” After she makes quick work of fixing my hair, we skate over to the bar, looking for Penn.
He isn’t there, though. And another pressing issue requires our attention.
“You owe me twenty bucks,” Bridget says on a laugh.
I follow her gaze to a now-shirtless Theo.
Mac, also shirtless, has joined him in the DJ booth to the delight of many young onlookers, as well as a few old ones, including Mrs. Baker.
Theo and Mac pump their fists in tandem, their washboard abs aglow thanks to the full stacks of neon necklaces that bounce on their bare chests while they dance to “Crazy in Love.”
Personally, I feel crazy as I scan the room for Penn. Usually, I can spot him—or feel his presence—in seconds. I’ve looked to Penn across rooms everywhere, in every universe, and more often than not, he was already looking back.
I have to find him. Now, just as terrifying as the thought of getting stuck in this game is the thought of waking up somewhere else and having left things with Penn like this—unfinished.
But as I search around, I don’t see him, and in a room full of bright, glowing clothing, it doesn’t help that he’s in his dark gray Curly’s T-shirt.
I start to skate off, but Ryan pops up beside Bridget. “Where have you two been?”
“Applying body glitter,” she tells him. “Want some? It’ll pair well with your very cool scarf.” He levels her with a look as she pulls the glitter stick from her overalls pocket and tips off the lid, smudging it on Ryan’s cheeks.
He scrunches up his features. “Man. Sure missed you guys.”
The song ends, and Theo taps the mic. “Last call at the bar, party people. And we’ve only got a few more songs before we wrap up the night.”
“One more drink,” Ryan shouts at us from inches away. “Tequila shots! Let’s go.”
The parallels between this moment and my last night in reality leave me itchy. I slink out from under my brother’s arm and wave them away. “You guys go ahead. I’ll find you soon.”
Ryan nods, then turns to Bridget. “Alright, B.O.B. It’s you, me, and my boy Ethan.”
She rolls her eyes at him, then she whispers to me, “Go get him.”
I feel like I’m skating upstream as the crowd pushes toward the rink. I don’t find Penn helping with the bar, or at the merch table. He isn’t in the men’s bathroom, either, outside of which I wait for a reasonably long but embarrassing time.
I’ve all but given up when I carefully skate out the front door, desperate for air.
And there he is. Helping Mrs. Baker into her car, then closing the door behind her.
He turns and stills, and at the sight of him, I nearly topple over, my skates sliding up beneath me. Penn lunges forward to help me stay steady, his hands bracing my sides.
“Whoa there, Tiger.” His laugh is a low rumble. “You okay?”
I meet his eyes and nod, my heart still battering in my chest.
It’s dark. Penn’s wearing three glowing neon necklaces, another over his backward hat. He looks ridiculous, and so handsome, and so himself. I feel my eyes well up. It’s been such a special night, but it doesn’t mean half as much if I’m not celebrating it with him.
“Is something wrong?” he asks. “What happened?”
I have so much to tell him. Everything. All of it. The truth.
He waits, his lips parted.
“Mangoes can get sunburnt,” I whisper, wiping my eyes. “Did you know that?”
Penn huffs out a small, surprised laugh. “No, Wynne. I didn’t know that.”
I take a breath. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Penn.”
He nods. “I’m sure there’s plenty I don’t know. But as much as I’d love to learn some more exciting fruit facts from you tonight, we need to get you back in there.” He steps toward the door. “You’ve got a whole party waiting for you.”
“I don’t care about the party,” I blurt out. “I care about you, and whatever you were about to say to me the other night when I cut you off.”
His head tilts. “Ruby…”
My name. I love so much how he says my name.
“You told me it wasn’t the right time, Penn, or the right place. But you know what? There’s never a right time, or a right place. But there is a right person.”
His eyes soften. A hint of a smile plays on his lips, and as he inches toward me again, the lights inside begin to flicker. So does the glowing Disco Diner sign above us. We both look up, then at each other, before we’re shrouded in darkness again.
Penn’s hands reach for mine. “I can’t let you miss the last song. And I sure as hell can’t skate. But…” He laces our fingers together and starts rocking back and forth. “Maybe we can dance?”
I snort out a laugh. “This,” I whisper, “is the cheesiest shit you’ve ever done.”
He lifts a shoulder. “I mean, if you’d rather give me a lap dance…”
I poke at his stomach, and as he laughs, I kiss him, swallowing the sound. Penn wraps his arms around me, holding me, and the kiss stays soft and sweet. When we pull away, I rest my head against his chest, grateful his heart is beating as fast as mine is.
I don’t know where I’m supposed to be.
But I know, without a doubt, that this is who I’m supposed to be with.
I didn’t orchestrate any of this, or plan for it, and I certainly never expected to slow-dance with Penn Hayes in the middle of the sidewalk.
On skates. But this strange, spontaneous moment feels more perfectly aligned than all the others because I’m not trying to play the game anymore.
I just want my other half to know I’m his, too.
I tilt back to look at him. “I don’t know what happened to me these last couple weeks. The lines blurred.” Between worlds. Between the two of us. “And I don’t think there’s any going back, but I don’t care, because I don’t want to go back to how it was, Penn. Or how we were.”
He bites his lip. Shakes his head. “Me neither.”
My real life, if I ever return to it, will never look the same, because I won’t return as the same person. Even if I woke up tomorrow back in my old apartment, with my closet full of Ann Taylor clearance finds, I wouldn’t be able to erase all that’s happened here, or who I’ve become.
Across timelines, or universes—or whatever this is—everything that’s happened, and all the feelings that have shaken loose, will still live somewhere inside me, whether or not I remember the details.
But Penn won’t know any of it. I have to tell him while I can.
Taking his hands, I look into the crinkly, gray-blue eyes that steady me like nothing else and say, “Penn, I don’t want fear to hold me back anymore. And I don’t want to play games with you or try to make up rules so that I can feel safer. I just want to roll the dice, okay?”
Light spills out the door, and the Disco Diner sign glows brightly enough for me to see the edge of Penn’s growing smile, his eyes alight as he stares back at me in a dazed sort of wonder.
His face begins to blur, my vision turning hazy.
“Penn,” I say, starting over again. “I want this: me and you. Whatever that means, and wherever we end up. I—”
Everything goes black.