Page 98 of In For a Penny
If Eloise ever murders me, I doubt anyone tonight would find fault in her doing so. I mean, I fully realize that what Josh and I were doing was kind of wrong. But it’s not like we meant to do it. I absolutely meant what I said to Oliver: I have no intention of starting something with Josh—at least not right now. But something weird happened tonight that shook up our friendship and turned us into a partnership of sorts.
I think it’s Thanksgiving’s fault. I really do. I mean, I was technically supposed to do all the hosting since it is my place (Allie had been relieved of those duties for obvious reasons, and I’m glad she was since she’s spent most of the night flirting with Oliver), but I desperately needed a co-host. Someone who knew how to carve the turkey and defend our American holiday from the ball-busting Brits whenever they criticized us for celebrating a genocide. And I was definitely not going to enlist the help of the psycho Air Force guy (whose name turned out to be John Smith, by the way).
Anyway, so it organically just spiraled into a weird co-hosting situation. I mean, Josh knows my kitchen in and out since he’s been over so many times, we’re obviously comfortable with each other, and I guess the adrenaline of having so many people around kind of made us forget that A) he had brought a date, who he had completely ignored for most the night, and B) the whole awkwardness of the love letters and where we currently stood in our friendship.
In all honesty, I felt like we were playing house, and I really,reallydidn’t want to stop. I wanted him to stay after everyone left and rub my feet as we broke down everything that happened at dinner, who came, what they said, who went home together. I wanted us to pick at the leftovers late at night together in our jammies. I wanted to cuddle in bed, too full and tired to have sex but still managing to find the energy because we care about each other so much.
But nope. That is definitely not going to happen tonight. So, yeah, I fucked up and let it get to this point because I knew I was never going to get that part after the dinner party—the true intimacy part of the night. That part is for Eloise—if Josh ever realizes that he needs to stop paying attention to me and needs to start paying attention to her tonight, that is.
“I need to talk to you,” Oliver says as I start serving the dessert.
“I’m kind of busy,” I say, pointing at the pies and the line of people in front of me, waiting for a piece.
With a glance in their direction, Oliver tells the group of people waiting on the pumpkin and pecan that they can serve themselves and promptly pulls me by the elbow into my bedroom.
“Jesus Christ!” I say, pulling my arm from his grip once we are safely locked inside. “What is up with you tonight?”
“Are you going to pursue Josh or not?”
“I’m sorry, am I having a déjà vu episode here or what? Did we not have this conversation, like,two hours ago? No. I do not intend to pursue anything with him.” I exhale, exasperated. I’m so over this topic I could scream.
“Then what in the bloody hell are you doing out there, Penny? You’re ruining this night for him.”
“What are you talking about? He’s fine! He’s been chilling with me all night.”
Now it’s his turn to be exasperated. Throwing his hands in the air, he says, “Exactly! Exactly! Chilling withyouall night—not his hot date, not the woman he came with.”
I’m quiet, unmoving. He’s right, obviously.
“Fine, I see your point, but he’s a grownup, you know? He can make his own decisions. And if he chooses not to spend time with his date, it’s his fault, no?” I’m acting like a petulant, spoiled, jealous brat, and I know it. But fuck it. He was my friend first.
Oliver shakes his head. “No, because you know he can’t say no to you—even if you don’t even ask. You have to tell him no. Thank him for all of his help, but tell him that he needs to go back to his date and enjoy the rest of the night.”
“But…” I start. I know he’s right. I know that Josh would never abandon me in a time of need, and I guess I looked as overwhelmed as I felt over this stupid dinner, and he dropped his date to help me. Even if he is an adult who can make his own decisions, maybe he just doesn’t realize that, when it comes to me, he always makes the wrong ones.
“Shit or get off the pot, mate,” Oliver says simply.
“Right. Off the pot, then.” I take a deep breath and walk out of the room, Oliver in tow.
I search for Josh and find him on pie duty, most of it gone at this point. I see Eloise sitting in a corner, alone with a drink, sulking, staring at him from across the room. No matter how I personally feel about her, it’s not cool to be part of something that hurts another woman, you know? It was never my intention to be catty. I need to fix this before it escalates.
I walk determinately toward Josh and take the pie cutter from his hands, ignoring the feeling in my stomach as our hands come into contact—the spark.
“Hey, why don’t you get yourself a plate and go sit with your date. I don’t think I’ve seen you guys together all night.”
He sighs as if suddenly remembering. “I know. Poor Elle.”
Elle? They’re on a pet name basis now?
I swallow the lump in my throat and go on. “Yup, so just go ahead, and take her some pie, too.”
He smiles, piles on a massive slice of pecan, grabs two forks, and walks toward Eloise. Her head pops up once she sees him walking toward her, and she smiles broadly, predatorily.
Ugh, I want to cry.
“I’m thankfulfoooorrr…”Chloe taps her finger to her lips, thinking. “…testing out of having to take Quantitative Research Methods and Statistics next semester,” she says with a massive smile on her face.
Jane and I groan in unison, and I throw a balled-up napkin at her face. The two classes Chloe’s talking about are the most dreaded in the entire program. The department offered the chance to test to opt out of having to take the classes for those who thought they could, but only Chloe was able to qualify.
