My Calamity

That morning, when I woke up, I felt like I hadn't actually gotten any sleep. I was tired, and exhausted, and I wanted to crawl back under the blankets, and pretend I was six again, and my hardest choice was whether to color the princess' dress in blue or pink.

My hair was oily and demanding a wash, and my face was pasty, and all the makeup I'd been wearing yesterday, the stuff I should've washed off before I went to sleep, was smudged, and running, and burning my eyes.

But despite all these complications I looked back on yesterday and I smiled because if there was ever a day that I would always remember, it would be that day. My smile dropped after the thought fleeted by, however, because the next thing to process in my mind was what I was doing to Patrick.

It had been one thing to lead Patrick on the way I had, but dating him? It wasn't fair to him. I had to break up with, that was final. Contrary to that thought, I didn't feel that was the right choice. I figured if it were the right choice, then I wouldn't had agreed to be his girlfriend in the first place.

I flopped back on my bed, eyes floating to my ceiling. "Patrick O'Connell, I hate you." I brought my hands to my eyes, then, letting the cold pads sooth my eyes, before getting up and heading towards the bathroom to get ready for my class. Today was not going to be a great day, inspiration wise, I knew that.

In the midst of getting ready for my class, my mom walked into my bedroom. I'd been sitting in front of my vanity desk, trying to decide what to do with my hair, when she jiggled the doorknob, which I should have locked, and then entered. I turned to look at her, holding one of the three plaits of hair between my fingers.

"We need to talk."

I let the hair fall at that, and turned my body to her. She crossed the room and sat down on my made bed. She crossed her leg, and looked straight at me. "There are a few things I want to talk to you about, Penelope," she began folding her manicured hands, and placing them in her lap.

I waited for her to continue.

"I need to know what is going on with you, Penelope."

I looked at her, befuddled. "What do you mean?"

My mom sighed. "You didn't call me once yesterday, to check in, and you weren't home all day. I called the house a million times. What time did you get home?"

"Why didn't you call my cell phone?"

"That's not the point, Penelope. What time did you get home?"

"About eleven. What's with the third degree here?"

"Penelope, all of the sudden you're breaking rules, staying out late. I don't want to not trust you, but you're not making this easy."

"I've never given you a reason to not trust me in the past. Where is this coming from?"

My mom sighed. "Penelope, where were you yesterday?"

"I was with Patrick. He took me out on a date."

"I want you to be honest with me. What is going on between you and this boy? And don't tell me nothing, because that's what you keep saying and yet you keep spending all this time with him."

I swallowed. "We're dating." I bit into my bottom lip, unsurely, waiting for her response.

"Alright," my mom said, standing up and straightening out her a-line skirt. "Well, from here on end, I want you to check in. Don't forget about your priorities because of a boy."

"Okay."

"You're going to class right?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah."

"Alright, I probably won't see you tonight. I'm working late." I nodded my head. "Adele will cook dinner though. And if Patrick comes over, you are not to go into your room, understood?"

"Yes mom," I grumbled crossly. She was treating me like a kid. She smiled like she knew she was treating me like a kid, and left my room. I turned back to my vanity desk and began braiding my hair. I turned my head and glanced at the clock on my night stand, watching it change to eight seventeen, and then hurriedly grabbed my bag and Patrick's jacket before leaving my room, heading towards the kitchen.

I grabbed an apple out of the bowl in the middle of island, watching the clock on the stove turn to eight eighteen. If I was late to my class, I'd get a front row seat, and it was already embarrassing drawing nude guys when you sat in the very back, it'd be worse if I were propped right in front.

I raced through the foyer, towards the front door where I grabbed my keys off the table and pulled the door open, stepping out into the early morning sun. The rays were blinding, bouncing off the sidewalk into my eyes like lasers.

I closed the door behind me, shifting my bag on my shoulder. I hopped down the steps, making my way down the walkway towards the side walk. I turned left, the way into town, and then turned back.

"Good morning, Penelope."

I blinked. I blinked again.

"I was thinking, and I was thinking. And then I thought some more. And I finally figured out the answer." I couldn't look away. This was not what I had expected. I needed to gather myself. I still needed to think. I knew I should have stayed under the covers. "To your question that is."

I waited.

"Its better to have loved and lost then never loved at all."

My lips quivered. "Why?"

"Because you can never lose love."