Page 7 of XXXVII: The Elite

“I didn’t realize we could paint our rooms,” I mutter. Honestly, I don’t care. I certainly won’t be painting my walls. But this feels more like I walked into her bedroom at home.

“Yeah, we can do whatever we want. My mom was all set to get her interior designer in to do this, but I wanted the full college experience. I didn’t even unpack before yesterday.” She turns back to me and smiles. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” I say, truthfully. I’m sure a lot of people would turn their noses up at an eighteen-year-old painting her bedroom in this color, but I think it’s cute.

“Oh, I’m Penny. Penelope Bergmann. But it’s Penny, not Penelope. That’s my grandmother, and she’s a homophobic bitch who disapproves of everything I do and say.”

“Tori Anderson.” I’ve been rehearsing that for weeks to seem natural and Penny is the first person I’ve said my new name to aloud.

“Do you have a minute to help me?” she asks, pointing to some folded fabric. “I want to put it up.”

I nod. “Tell me where you need me.”

“Just stand there and tell me if it’s straight.” Chuckling to herself, she picks up two hooks from her desk, pulls the tabs off the back, and then climbs onto the bed, gathering the fabric as she goes.

The next thing I know, she’s got her arms outstretched with a corner of a flag in each hand, letting it hover just above her bed.

“Move about four inches to the right, and it’s centered.”

Penny shuffles over.

“Perfect. Then raise the right side slowly.”

Moving at a glacial speed, she does.

“Stop. You’re good.”

Penny slams the hooks and the flag against the wall, pushing with all her might. Then she takes a few steps back to cock her head each way. Finally, she turns back to me, dropping down to sit on the bed.

I sense her watching me, but my attention is on the flag. There are three stripes—pale blue, magenta and purple. On the left side is a white triangle that’s off-center, and in the middle of the triangle is a golden heart. I have no idea what it means.

“It’s the new polyamory flag,” Penny explains, as though she can read my mind. Or maybe it’s just the confusion on my face.

Turning back to face her, I find her watching me with a guarded expression, making me feel like this is a test.

“I’m sorry. I know there’s a lot of different flags for various letters of the LGBTQ.” I pointed up at the wall. “I didn’t know there was a flag for this.”

“Neither did my grandmother. That’s my talisman for keeping unwanted people away.”

“You’re a witch too?” I ask.

“Jewish.”

“So, you’re not…?” I point back at the flag.

“Oh, I am. I have a boyfriend who’s a freshman at Penn—Jake—and my girlfriend, Nicole, is in her last year of high school.” She points to a framed photograph on her bedside table.

Her girlfriend has curly brown hair and a really cute smile. She’s between Penny on the right of her, and her boyfriend is on the opposite side. Unlike the two girls, he’s not smiling, staring intently at the camera from behind his round-rimmed glasses. He’s got the hot nerd vibe about him.

She’s still staring at me, and I sigh, looking back at her. “You’re looking at me like you’re expecting me to tell you that’s gross. Honestly, I don’t care. I don’t pick my friends based on their sexual orientation.”

That is true. Although I’m ashamed to admit that a few years ago, I would have picked them based on how rich they were.

Penny lets out a long breath. “Sorry. When I first came out, and again when the three of us came out, high school was shit. I decided I wasn’t going to hide who I was when I came to college, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to put up with all the shit I did at school.”

I nod. I’ve not been in her shoes, so I can’t say I know how she feels, but I have been in a situation where everyone turned on me for factors out of my control. I sure as hell found out who my real friends were then.

“The same goes with Bubbe—my grandmother. My dad died when I was younger, so she took me and my mom in, but she automatically thinks she gets to dictate how I’m going to live my life. She thinks I’ve committed a mortal sin against God, but as far as I’m concerned, I can still have my faith and be bi.” She shrugs. “You know, if you read all the holy books, they can be summed up in the same way: don’t be a dick.”

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