Wayward Son - Rainbow Rowell Page 0,18

it since sixth year.

Penelope and Micah are sure of each other.

I’ve never heard Penelope worry over whether Micah still loved her or loved her in the right way. I’ve never seen her crying about him in the hallway with her girlfriends. (Penny doesn’t really have girlfriends. She has Agatha, sort of. And her mum. She has me.…) Penelope and Micah never fight. He never forgets their anniversary. I don’t think Penny cares about anniversaries.

When Penelope talks about Micah, she seems stronger, more rooted to the ground. She doesn’t blink. She doesn’t doubt. I’ve never heard her snipe at him, the way people do, for saying something harmless. I’ve never heard her say, “What does that mean?” Or “Why are you using that tone of voice?” I’ve never seen her roll her eyes when he’s talking—or breathe passive-aggressively, that breathing that means, “I’m so tired of you. Shut up shut up shut up.”

I suppose I haven’t actually seen them together since fourth year. And they weren’t really in love then, they were just kids. Micah was a massive swot. All he wanted to do was study and talk about video games. Penelope liked him immediately—which is unheard of. I don’t think Penny liked me immediately. It was more like she took charge of me immediately. Like I was an easy mark. Maybe Micah was an easy mark, too. He followed Penny around Watford, practising spells and catching Pokémon and eating sesame seed sweets that his mum got from Puerto Rico and sent from Illinois. (They weren’t bad. Chewy.)

There was no Internet at Watford, so Penny and Micah wrote each other actual letters during the term. I have so many memories of Penelope running out onto the Great Lawn with a letter from Micah that they’ve become one memory—Penny in her pleated skirt and knee socks, smiling, a white envelope in her hand.

Penelope and Micah were going to get married.

And now … Merlin, what now?

* * *

Baz and I aren’t saying anything, but Penny is nodding as if we were.

“Are you sure—” I try.

“Very,” she says.

“You probably both need to sleep on it.”

“No.”

“Maybe—”

“No! Simon! He’s dating someone else.”

“Bastard,” Baz hisses.

“No,” Penny laughs. “He’s not a bastard, he’s just—” She looks up at me. “—not in love with me.” Her shoulders start shaking, and a second later, she’s crying. “I think it was all in my head, all along.”

“Buffalo Blasts?” A different waiter is at our table. Baz takes the plates, then waves the man away while he’s asking whether we need any ketchup or ranch dressing. Crowley, this burger is gorgeous. It has hash browns on it. Baz’s steak is so rare, it looks like strawberry jelly.

“It wasn’t all in your head,” I say. “He wrote you letters.” Are we eating, I wonder. Or is this too tragic for eating?

“We were pen pals,” Penny says.

“You Skyped. He told you he loved you, I’ve heard him.”

That makes her cry some more. “Well, apparently he didn’t mean it!” She picks up a Buffalo Blast and takes a big, tearful bite. (Hurrah—we are eating!)

“He said it was my fault,” she says with her mouth full, “that I didn’t want a real relationship. He said I just wanted to have a boyfriend, so that I could check it off and worry about more important things.”

Baz picks up his knife and fork, and carefully starts cutting his steak.

“I can see what you’re thinking, Basilton. I know you agree with him.”

“I don’t agree with him, Bunce.”

“But?”

“I don’t agree with him. And I don’t know anything about relationships.”

“But I had checked him off,” she says. “I thought we were going to get married.” She’s crying hard now.

Baz drops his cutlery and swings over to Penny’s side of the table, helping her set her Blast down, putting his arm around her. “Please don’t choke to death, Bunce. Imagine the humiliation of dying at The Cheesecake Factory.”

Penny turns in to his shoulder and cries some more. “Micah’s right,” she sobs. “I took him for granted.”

“Maybe,” Baz says, “but that doesn’t excuse what he did. He’s a coward.”

“He said it’s impossible to tell me something I don’t want to hear!”

Baz catches my eye, and we both grimace, because that’s absolutely true.

“I like that about you,” I offer.

“We all do,” Baz says. “If you weren’t relentless, the Mage and the Humdrum would still be a plague on the whole World of Mages.”

“But you wouldn’t want to date me,” she says.

“I would never want to date you,” he earnestly replies, “but it’s not because