My Calamity

Her name was Reid; full name, Penelope Christine Reid. She was going into her senior year, like me, and she was amazing at art. Freshman year she doubled up on Geometry along with Algebra II honors. Sophomore year she took calculus. She also happened to skip sixth grade.

She lived in the big house on Hollis road with her mother. Her older sister, Haley was going to college this year, and her other sister Melissa was in her last year of college.

I got all of that out of four different people: Ben, Tallulah, and their parents. Apparently, everyone's parents knew her because everyone's parents knew her parents. Ben's mom described her as a beautiful, polite, well-mannered girl with an easy going lifestyle. Tallulah's mom said her artwork was amazing, and she was the next Pollock, only twice as beautiful and less likely to kill herself.

So here I was, waiting impatiently for my mom to get home, to ask about Penelope. I figured if Tallulah's mother, Meredith, a social pariah knew something about Penelope then my mother must.

"Hey loser," Jessica said as she waltzed into the living room. Jessica was my younger sister of four years and a pain in the ass eighty percent of the time.

"How was pottery?" I asked, not really interested but finding it the right thing to ask.

Jessica dropped into an arm chair. "Good," she replied as she retrieved something from the box in her lap. "I finished this." She held the clay fixture out to me, and I took the vase in my hands. It was an elaborately sculpted piece, with a wide base getting smaller at the top. There's a gold wire weaving around it with delicate flowers made of gold metal. But it was the color that got me.

"Wow," was all I could manage to say.

"Don't you love the color? I got to use a high fire glaze! This is definitely, by far my best piece! I can't wait to show mom." Jessica got up, taking back the vase and setting it down on the mantle. I lied back on the couch, and continued to watch the game.

"So, what'd you do today?" Jessica questioned as she sauntered over to me and plopped down at the end of the couch.

I shrugged my shoulders.

Should I tell her? Or should I keep it to myself?

"Do you know a Penelope Reid?" I finally decided to ask.

Jessica reached over me and stole the remote that was resting on my chest, changing the channel to the News. They were talking about the Oil Spill. "God, I can't believe they screwed up like this," she said, her eyes widening in disbelief as the camera followed the oil out into the sea where it was spreading in all different ways.

"Jess, focus," I snapped trying to get her back on subject.

"Yeah, I know her," she answered coolly, picking at her cuticle.

I waited for her to say more.

"Well?" I questioned impatiently.

"She goes to my art classes on Mondays and Fridays," Jessica told me, getting up and disappearing into the kitchen. Not a second later she returned with the house phone, and four different menus. "Why?"

"I was just asking," I told her, deciding I didn't want to share my encounter with Penelope Reid.

Jessica shrugged her shoulders, placing the menus on the coffee table. "Whatever. What do you want to eat?"

"You too."

Jessica rolled her eyes at me. I laughed and tapped the Chinese take-out menu.

Two years ago, my basketball coach and I had gotten into an argument because apparently I was a ball hog, and I didn't understand what teamwork meant, and so I had told him whatever and was about to walk away, but he had grabbed my arm and told me that 'whatever' was slang for 'fuck you' and that I was never to say it again.

Needless to say, I did say it again, but I also said 'you too' to anyone that said it to me. It had become a kneejerk reaction — one that Jessica didn't like.

"Chinese it is," she said as she gathered the menus, getting up from her spot on the floor.

"The usual," I called to her as she disappeared into the kitchen.

☼

"What are you doing up?" Mom asked when she walked into the house at midnight. Jessica and I had long since finished dinner, and Jessica was in her room, either sleeping or watching movies — I wasn't sure.

"It's the summer, mom. I can stay up all night if I like. It’s not like I have anywhere to be."

"Actually, you do. Saturday, Mrs. Kennelly's daughter, Sara, is getting married and she invited the whole town. I already RSVPed."

"That sounds boring. Do I honestly have to go?"

"Yes," mom snapped as she plopped down in the arm chair, slipping her stocking-covered feet out of her high heels. "You honestly have to go. I'm sure all your friends will be there."

"I'm sure they won't. Unlike you, their parents wouldn't make them go."

"I'm not discussing it any further," she snapped, rubbing her temples. I knew not to push it any further, and decided to get down to business.

"Do you know Mrs. Reid? Or Penelope Reid?"

Mom stopped rubbing her temples, and looked at me. "Yes, why?"

"I was just wondering. Do you hang out with Mrs. Reid?"

"Her name is Suelyn, and I was at her house last week. Her daughter is a real gem."

"A gem, huh?" I hoped to god she'd go into further detail, and not blow me off.

"She's very nice, Patch. If you want to know more about her, why don't you get to know her?" She stood up, picking up her shoes, and kissed me on the forehead before heading towards the exit. "I'm more than positive she'll be at the wedding on Saturday."

Yes, but I don't think I can wait that long.