13. Penelope #2
“You can.” His thumb brushes under my eye, even though I’m not crying yet. “In through your nose. Slow.”
I follow him. Barely. It still feels like my chest is caving in.
“What happened?” he asks, quiet. Gentle.
I shake my head.
“I fucked up,” I say immediately. “Iz, I fucked up—”
His hands tighten just enough to keep me from pulling away.
“Okay,” he says. “Tell me how.”
I swallow.
“I was upstairs,” I start, words tripping. “By the alcove—by the trophy case—and he was there and we were arguing and then we weren’t and I didn’t—I didn’t stop it—”
His eyes flicker.
“Stop what?” he asks.
I can feel it again. His hands. The pressure. My body responding like it always does—traitor, traitor, traitor—
“He—” My voice drops. Shame flooding hot. “His hands, Iz. I didn’t stop him.”
Silence. Not heavy. Just…real.
“Xander?” he asks.
I nod.
His jaw shifts. Just slightly.
“Okay,” he says.
Okay. Like that’s something that can just exist.
“I don’t even know why I didn’t stop him,” I rush. “I should’ve, I know I should’ve, I just—my body just—”
I cut myself off, shaking my head hard.
“I hate that,” I whisper. “I hate that I do that.”
“Hey.” His voice is softer now. Closer. “Look at me.”
I don’t want to. I do anyway.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says.
“I did,” I snap, panic spiking. “I did because now—”
My voice breaks. Because now. Because—
“She was there.”
That lands.
His brows pull together. “Who?”
“Bella.”
There it is. The flicker. Quick. Sharp. Gone just as fast.
“What do you mean she was there?”
“I didn’t see her,” I say quickly. “I didn’t know—Iz, I swear I didn’t know—but she had her phone out and she—”
My throat closes. “She filmed it.”
His hands shift—one sliding to the back of my neck, fingers threading lightly into my hair. Grounding. Holding.
“She filmed it?” he repeats.
I nod, breath shaking.
“And she said she was posting it,” I continue, words rushing now. “Like right then, like as I was walking out she was already—”
My chest tightens again.
“Iz, it’s up. It has to be up. Everyone’s going to see it.”
He exhales slowly. Not detached. Holding himself together.
“She posted it?” he asks.
“On GlossX,” I whisper. “Already.”
“I didn’t stop him,” I say again, quieter now. Worse this time. “I just stood there and let it happen and now there’s a video and I don’t even know what that makes me—”
“Penny.”
My name, softer. Closer. His hand comes up, cupping my cheek fully now.
“Look at me.”
“You’re okay,” he says.
“I’m not okay,” I whisper.
“I know.” No argument. No correction. Just agreement. “But you’re here. With me. Right now, you’re okay.”
My breath stutters.
“I feel like—” I press my fingers to my temple. “I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.”
The thought hits again. Sharp. Loud.
Use.
Just one. Just enough to make it quiet. Just enough to not feel this—
“I don’t want to feel this,” I say, the words slipping out.
His expression softens immediately.
“I know,” he murmurs.
“I want it to stop,” I admit. “I want everything to just—shut up for a second.”
His arms come around me fully this time. Pulling me in. Not tight. Just…there.
“You don’t need that,” he says quietly into my hair. “Stay here instead.”
I grip his shirt harder.
“I don’t know what everyone’s going to think,” I whisper. “I don’t know what it looks like. I don’t know how bad it is.”
“We’ll find out,” he says. “And then we’ll deal with it.”
“Iz—”
“Hey.” He leans down, pressing a slow, soft kiss to my forehead. “One thing at a time, okay?”
My eyes close for half a second. Just that. Just the quiet. Just him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” he asks gently.
“For—” I shake my head. “For all of it. For him. For this. For—”
“For being a human being?” he says, softer. “Yeah, I’m gonna let that one slide.”
A broken laugh slips out of me. He brushes his thumb across my cheek again.
“Stay with me,” he says. “You’re not dealing with this alone.”
Cat arrives. White-faced. Phone in hand. Kaiden and Danny behind her. “I’m going to kill her, Penny. I swear on my life, I will commit murder. Again.”
And then—because the universe runs on cruelty—Xander appears at the end of the hallway with Bella tucked against his side. His arm around her waist. Her hand on his chest. The giggle. The lean.
The whiplash. Ten minutes ago, his fingers were inside me.
Now he’s holding the girl who just filmed it.
The messages are so contradictory they make my skull vibrate: I want you / watch me hold her.
Come for me / watch her touch me. You’re mine / I’ll let someone else claim me right in front of you.
Iz growls. I grab his arm. “Don’t.”
“He’s fucking dead, Penny.”
A shove from behind. Valentina. Pushing past us toward Kaiden, bubblegum nails gripping his arm.
“Hey, Kaiden. Could you help me study after school?”
Cat moves before the sentence finishes. Between them in a step. Hands on Valentina’s collarbone. Pushing.
“What did I tell you about staying the fuck away from my boyfriend?”
Valentina recovers. The mask dropping. Something meaner underneath. “He didn’t seem to mind. Maybe you aren’t satisfying his needs.”
Kaiden, flat: “Nope. Not interested. Never will be. How many languages?”
Valentina ignores him. Aims at Cat. “At least my mom didn’t throw me away like trash. All for some dick.”
Cat’s backpack hits the floor. She swings—fast, aimed, the particular violence of a girl who survived a basement and learned that sometimes the only appropriate response to cruelty is a fist.
Kaiden catches her. Both arms around her waist. Lifts her clean off the ground. Cat’s legs kick air. Her arms windmill. She’s screaming—creative, profane, the particular vocabulary of Catherine O’Farrell at full volume.
Kaiden is laughing. Actually laughing—holding his girlfriend three inches off the ground while she tries to commit murder, and the sound he makes is joy. Pure, unfiltered amusement at the ferocity of the girl he loves.
“Let me DOWN, Kaiden! I will END her!”
“Not today, kitty cat. You’re not getting suspended for this walking mannequin.”
Cat, thrashing: “She talked about my mother! My MOTHER!”
Kaiden, still carrying her backward: “And she’ll regret it. But not today. Today you keep your record clean.”
Valentina smirks at Cat being carried away. Turns to me. Opens her mouth.
I step forward. Into her space. Close. The particular proximity of a girl who has been through a treehouse floor and has emerged with the understanding that there is nothing left to take.
“Watch your back, Valentina.”
“Or what?” She crosses her arms. Not retreating. The arrogance of a girl who has never been hit and doesn’t believe it’s possible. “You’ll overdose at me? Run to your little boyfriend? Which one—you seem to have a few.”
“Cat will get you. And if she doesn’t, I will.”
“Please.” She laughs. “You’re a junkie with nothing to lose and nothing to offer. Xander doesn’t want you. Iz is using you. Your whole life is a GlossX post away from total destruction, and I’m the girl holding the phone.”
“Exactly.” I lean closer. My voice drops.
“I have nothing to lose. Nothing. Which means taking you apart is worth every consequence that comes after. Every suspension. Every charge. Every headline. I have already survived the worst thing that can happen to a person, Valentina. You are not the worst thing. You are a footnote.”
Her smile drops. Something flickers behind her eyes—the recalculation of a bully encountering a target who has stopped being afraid. She doesn’t step back. She swings.
And this time—
So do I.
My hand comes up fast, instinct, anger, everything in me snapping at once. I don’t even think. I just move.
“Don’t—” someone starts.
Too late. I lunge.
Valentina’s eyes widen—just for a second—before she jerks back, her hand coming up to meet mine. We collide. Not clean. Not controlled. Messy.
Her nails catch my wrist. My shoulder slams into hers. I shove forward, aiming again—
“Penny—!”
Arms wrap around my waist. Strong. Immediate. Lifting me clean off the ground before I can swing again.
“Nope,” Iz laughs, breath warm against my ear. “Absolutely not.”
“Iz—put me down—” I twist in his hold, kicking, reaching for her. “I will actually kill her—”
“I know you will,” he says, still laughing, tightening his grip just enough to keep me from launching myself back into it. “That’s why we’re not doing that.”
“She touched—” I choke on the words, fury spiking again. “She thinks she can just—”
“I know.” Softer now. Still holding me. “I know.”
Valentina straightens, smoothing her hair like she didn’t just almost get decked.
“Pathetic,” she mutters.
I surge forward again. “Say that again—”
Iz shifts, turning with me, physically moving my body out of her line like I weigh nothing.
“Nope,” he murmurs. “You’ve made your point.”
“I haven’t—” I struggle against him. “I haven’t even started—”
“You absolutely have,” he says, amused. “You scared her.”
“I did not—”
“You did,” he says, grinning now, breath brushing my temple. “That little flicker? That was fear.”
Valentina scoffs, but she takes half a step back. I see it. Iz sees it too.
“See?” he murmurs.
“I want to hit her,” I say, still fighting him, though there’s less force behind it now. More frustration than violence.
“I know,” he says easily. “I support that. Just…not in a hallway with witnesses.”
He lowers me back to the ground slowly, hands still on my waist for a second—making sure I’m not about to launch again. I don’t. Barely.
His hands slide up—familiar, grounding—cupping my face, thumbs brushing under my eyes.
The Iz hold. “Holy shit, firecracker,” he murmurs, eyes bright. “That was…”
I shake my head, still breathing too fast. “Iz—”
“I’m not gonna lie,” he says, voice dropping, softer now, a little rough around the edges. “Watching you do that did something to me.”
“Iz—” I huff, but it comes out shaky.
“I’m just saying.” He leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my forehead.