My Calamity

Penelope had me all screwed up.

That was what I had come to realize as I waited for her to get ready. She was all I could think about on my way home, and I all I could talk about at dinner, and she was the reason my sister had something to tease me about too. How Jessica knew I was going to kiss her in the kitchen, I didn't know.

When I was sure Penelope was upstairs, I circled her living room, taking it all in. There were tons of pictures of her and her sisters. In a china cabinet against the wall, there were all these professional ones of her with her mother. I noticed her father wasn't in any of them.

With that realization, I noted never seeing her father either.

"Ready to go?"

I turned around quickly, feeling like I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't have, and then lost all train of thought in my mind. Penelope. I swear she wanted me to have naughty thoughts about her.

Admittedly, I had planned on taking her to beach partially because I wanted to see her in a bikini…okay, so mainly because I wanted to see her in a bikini but there was also that portion that just wanted to hang out with her. And it was the perfect day to catch some waves.

But this, what she was wearing now, sufficed enough to make me content for years. I knew she was long-legged, she was one of the taller girls built for modeling, but in this dress – if you could call it that – she looked like someone who wanted to make a man suffer. And I think she was wearing makeup too. More than usual, that is. And her hair that inviting red hair fell like wisteria around her head.

"Patrick?" She had this sly smile on her face like she knew what she was doing to me.

"Yeah, yeah let's go." I wiped my sweaty palms on my board shorts and crossed the room to her, where I was greeted by a breeze of perfume. "Do you have to let someone know you're leaving?"

That was my sneaky attempt at finding out where her father was.

"Nope."

And that was it failing.

I followed Penelope out the door and watched in content silence as she locked the door, and slipped the key into her bag. I walked over to my motorcycle, parked in the empty driveway, and climbed on, taking the helmet off the handlebar.

"Absolutely not," Penelope said when I turned to look at her, holding out the helmet. "No, not uh."

I smiled, kind of liking the fact she was scared. "It's not that bad."

Penelope didn't budge. "We're going to beach that was your say, we're going to walk that's my say."

"Do you know how long that walk is?"

"Ten minutes if you don't stop."

"Yeah, but in this heat we'd die of dehydration before we got there."

"You're being melodramatic, and you're wasting time."

I climbed off my bike, sighing through my nose. "Fine."

Penelope smiled then, this cheeky grin that set my skin on fire. "Glad you see it my way." I gave her a glare, letting her know I wasn't happy with her way, but nonetheless followed her down to the sidewalk where we set off up the street to the beach.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked her after a few minutes into our walk.

Penelope seemed caught off guard for a moment, but then this smooth grin slithered across her spotted face. "You just did." I waited. "Sure." I think she was afraid of what I was going to ask her.

"What's your favorite color?" The question slid past my lips before I could change my mind, and I mentally scolded myself for being a wuss and not asking the question I really wanted to know the answer to.

She gave me this side smile that told me she knew that wasn't what I had initially wanted to ask her. "Gold."

"Mine's silver."

And I gave her a cheeky smile.

☼

"What was it you said? Oh, right, going to beach was my say, walking was your say, so doesn't that make it my turn?" Penelope opted for no response, and instead lowered her eyelids into a glare. "Glad you see it my way." I gave her a smile, before leading her towards the Shack where we could rent surfboards.

"How many?" the girl at the counter asked, popping her gum. I knew her to be a junior, and in my music class. She was the type of girl that really stuck to the dumb blond stereotype, though she was brunette.

"Two," I replied, casually leaning against the counter to look at Penelope.

"One," Penelope interjected, looking straight past me at the girl.

"Two."

Penelope crossed her arms over her chest. "One."

"Well, how many is it?" gum-popper Courtney asked.

I looked back at her. "Two please."

She shook her head in annoyance before heading to the back leaving me to deal with Penelope alone.

"I'm not going surfing."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Or because you can't?"

"I can surf," Penelope snapped.

"Oh, than you should have no problem."

"I'm not going surfing," she repeated herself stubbornly, her gaze focused on the horizon.

"I thought everyone in Harbor Springs knew how to surf. The waves are like the main attraction."

Penelope didn't say anything as she walked over to me, and lent against the counter. Courtney returned with the boards, and Penelope reached out and took hers, slipping it under her arm before turning and walking towards the pier.

I easily caught up to her. "You know, I'd happily teach you. All you have to do is ask."

Penelope turned her head to look at me with those eyes of green and blue. They were glassy under the sun's glow and there was this small smirk on her face. "Teach me."

I knew it wasn't a question. It didn't sound like a question, and the way she was looking at me told me she knew I had already planned to teach her. "Ehhh, I don't know…"

Penelope's smirk dropped for a second, but then she hit me with her board, knocking me over, and I laughed. "You're going to regret that."

Shock registered on Penelope's face, and she held up her hands, palms facing outwards. "Alright, I'm sorry!"

I reached out, grabbed her ankle, and pulled it out from under her so she landed across from me in the sand. "Alright, I forgive you."

"Was that necessary?"

"An eye for an eye," I said with a shrug, standing up. "Now, come on."

I watched Penelope shake her head wearily, and stand up, dropping her bag off her shoulder, and then lift her dress over her head, and drop it beside her things. I swear it was like slow motion for me. I didn't mean to stare, I didn't want to stare but damn. Penelope's been holding out on me.

I always knew she was long-legged, but this was, this was wow. They weren't spider legs, but they weren't little Miss Jennifer Hood's short stumps either. And my god, she had her navel pierced. I had not seen that coming.

I watched with weird fascination as she flipped her hair to one side, and ran her fingers through it before trailing them to her back to check the tie on her top. Her biceps flexed, and her stomach stretched tight, her breasts lifting in a perky hello.

And suddenly, I was in a hurry to get to cold ocean water.

Damn it, Penelope, look at what you do to me.