Filed to story: Penny and Navy Brother Asher
I’m about to hang up when his voice ruts through again, rough and impatient.
“What’s wrong?”
I hesitate, the phone heavy against my car, debating for half a second whether to just lie, to say everything’s fine and figure it out myse
But something in his tone-grill, almo almost… almost concerned-makes me pause
“It’s nothing, I say quickly. Thanks again.”
“Penny,” he says, voice firmer now. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow hard, shifting my weight from foot to foot.
“My audition lasted longer than I thought,” I say finally, the words spilling out in a rush. “And I missed the last buc. And there any rideshares around. It’s fine, though. I’ll just walk.”
There’s a pause.
A long, charged pause.
“Where are you?” he asks, low and sharp.
“It doesn’t matter,” I snap back, heat flaring in my chest, because the last thing I need is another lecture, another judgmental comment from someone who thinks he knows everything.
“You didn’t plan for this?’ he says, the incredulity threading through his voice, and that’s it, that’s the match that lights the fuse.
“I’m hanging up now,” I say through gritted teeth, and before he can answer, I jab the and call button and shove my phone into my pocket with a force that makes my fingers ache.
Asshole.
Stupid, judgmental, condescending asshole.
I plop down on the cold metal bench, pressing my forehead against my knees, trying to think, trying to breathe.
Okay.
Options.
I can wait it out and hope a driver frees up.
Or I can walk closer to downtown, where there’s more traffic, more bus lines, more people.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.
I pull my phone back out and fire off a quick text to Tyler.
Done! Call me when you ent
I stare at the screen for a long moment, hoping, stupidly, that it will buze hack in life, that he’ll test of tall or
It doesn’t.
The streetlights flicker on one by one, the world sliding slowly from gold to gray
I stand up, lighten the straps of my dance bag over my shoulder, and start walking toward the heart of the city, my sneakers tapping rhythm that sounds a little too much like alone, alone, alone.
The steering wheel creaks under my grip as I turn another slow corner, my eyes sweeping the darkening sidewalks, the cold toit of ang tightening deeper in my gut.
This is stupid.
This is beyond stupid. ave had
I shouldn’t be here, wasting my night cruising through half-abandoned streets, looking for a girl who should have had someone looking out for her already.
I curse under my breath, a sharp, vicious sound that fills the cab of the car, and tap the brakes to roll through another empty intersection.
If Tyler had half a brain-or half a heart-he’d be here instead of mo.
He’d be the one punching the gas and muttering curses and s scanning every shadow for a glimpse of blonde hair and stubbornness wrapped up in too-thin clothes.
But no.
Tyler’s MIA
As usual.
Probably still glued to his is couch or off with his friends or doing whatever else seemed more important than the girl who, whether he realizes it or not, deserves a hell of a lot more than being treated like an afterthought.
I grit my teeth, the anger burning hotter the longer I think about it.
Penny had sounded okay on the phone.
Carefully calm.
Bright, even.
Hut I know better.
I know the sound of someone putting on a strong front, trying to make it easier for the person on the other end.
I’ve heard that voice enough times in my life to recognize it instantly,
And I know this area.
I looked it up
Remote. this morning, out of pure curiosity, wondering what kind of place hosted that many auditions for a city-wide gala.
Sparse,
Not exactly unsafe by definition, but remote enough that if something happened…
There wouldn’t be anyone nearby to help
When she hung up on me, I sat back down on the couch, staring at the muted football game flickering arross the TV where my dad had nodded off in his chair. lasted maybe ten seconds.
Before the anger pushed me to my feet.
Before I grabbed my keys.
Before I punched the accelerator and got on the highway, heading to the other side of the city.
And now here I am.
Driving through dark streets littered with groups of drunk college kids and early bird har crawlers, scanning every damn face, every patch of sidewalk, searching for a pissed-off ballerina who has no idea how stupidly dangerous it is to walk alone right now.
I tap the wheel, eyes flicking left, right, lest again.
Where the bell is she?
And then-
Finally-
I see her.
A small figure moving fast down the sidewalk, her blonde hair catching the last shred of daylight, her sneakers slapping the pavement in a quick, determined rhythm.
Relief crashes into me so fast I almost miss my turn.
I pull up beside her, rolling the window down, the engine rumbling low.
She doesn’t even notice.
My jaw tightens painfully.
A black car pulls up next to her in the dark and she doesn’t even flinch.
What the hell kind of safety lessons did her parents give her?!
I lean over and call out, sharp and loud, “Penny.”
She jumps a full foot into the air, a strangled scream tearing from her throat as she whirls toward me, clutching her chest like she expects it to beat right out of her body.
Her eyes are wide, terrified, and she’s already stammering. “A-Asher?” like she’s not sure if she’s hallucinating me or not.
I stare at her, feeling the low, slow burn of anger surge hotter.
“Get in,” I say, voice clipped, leaving no room for argument…
She composes herself, dragging a hand through her messy hair, her checks burning pink with embarrassment.
And then-
She frowns.
“How did you even find me?” she demands, suspicion lighting up her face like a struck match
I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”