Penelope (33 page)

“Yeah,” said Catherine. “I don’t have anyone else to live with.”

“OK, sure!” said Penelope.

“OK, good,” said Catherine. “Because I really don’t want to be a floater too. And you are friends with Ted and I’m dating Ted, obviously, so we have that in common. We have a lot of the same friends.”

“That is true,” said Penelope.

“Well,” said Catherine. She smiled at Penelope in a morose sort of way. “That is settled. That’s really why I was trying to find you. I think we might get a good room. Just two people. We could probably get a nice double.”

“OK,” said Penelope.

“Awesome,” said Catherine. Suddenly, her eyes seemed to become arrested on something in the distance. “Wait, I just saw Ted come in. Did you see him?”

“Oh,” said Penelope, turning around to see where she was looking, “no, I didn’t.”

“I am just going to go say hi to him,” said Catherine. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”

“Oh, OK,” said Penelope. “You don’t have to. I’m almost done.”

“No,” said Catherine. “It’s OK. Stay here.”

“Well, OK,” said Penelope. “Bye, then.”

“Bye,” said Catherine. She went running off in the direction of where she saw Ted come in. Penelope still didn’t see him.

Well, at least one thing is settled
, thought Penelope.

Springtime in Massachusetts is depressing for those who embrace a progressive view of history and experience. It does not gradually develop as spring is supposed to. Instead, the crocuses bloom and the grass grows, but the foliage is independent from the weather, which gets colder and colder and sadder and sadder until June, when one day it becomes brutishly hot without warning. There is no traditional logic attached. Certain days in May can be more cutting than any in December. It was fitting, then, that the first people who chose to settle there were mentally suspect.

So, although it was technically spring, it seemed colder than ever when Penelope hurried past Widener Library. It was raining a little, but the rain was turning into ice just before it hit the ground. The sky was slate gray. The bark on the trees was sopping wet. It was hard to imagine the climate ever warming up sufficiently again.

“Penelope! Wait up!” yelled Ted. Penelope stopped and turned around. Ted was running up to meet her. She blew into her hands to keep them warm as she waited for him.

“Hi,” said Ted when he finally caught up with her. His face was blotched red from the exertion of running. His bangs were
curled up in little balls because of the humidity. All and all, he looked more becoming than his usual self.

“Hello!” said Penelope.

“I was in Widener, and I saw you out the window,” said Ted. He bent over, put his hands on his knees, and exhaled deeply. “I was worried I wasn’t going to catch you.”

“Good thing you did,” said Penelope. “I was just walking to the Quad Library by myself.”

“Why do you have to go all the way out there?” asked Ted. The Quad Library was a Swedish-looking building on the old girls’ campus. No one went out there unless they had to.

“I have to get a copy of
Look Homeward, Angel
and Lamont was all out. I have to read a hundred pages of it.”

“Why not the whole thing?” asked Ted.

“I don’t know,” said Penelope.

“Well, I’ll walk with you a little,” said Ted. “I have to drop something off at the registrar’s.”

“OK,” said Penelope. They started walking out of Harvard Yard and toward the theater on Brattle Street. Penelope put the hood of her coat up, because the rain had turned to sleet somewhere along the way and was now spitting in her face. It didn’t really help.

“So how are you?” asked Ted. “How is everything going?”

“Oh, you know,” said Penelope.

“How are classes?”

“Good.”

“Do you have a lot of work?” asked Ted.

“No,” said Penelope. “But it’s kind of hard to tell.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t really been doing it. Because of the play.”

“Oh, the play!” said Ted. He laughed.

“Yes,” said Penelope.

“When is the end of the long national nightmare?” asked Ted.

“Tomorrow is the final dress rehearsal,” said Penelope. The cast of
Caligula
had been having dress rehearsals all week.
Penelope could not tell how they were going. At least everyone had shown up for last night’s rehearsal. Craig’s replacement hadn’t come. Penelope had given up on that.

“Are you excited for it?” asked Ted.

“I mean,” said Penelope, “I don’t think so.”

“You have to be a little bit nervous,” said Ted.

“Well,” said Penelope, “I have been having some nightmares.”

“Good,” said Ted. “So you’re living with Catherine, I hear.”

“Yes,” said Penelope.

“That’s so great,” said Ted. “Are you living with your roommates too? How are they?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Penelope. Her face flushed. Interpersonally, things were actually rather tense in Pennypacker because Emma wasn’t speaking to her. This wasn’t so tiresome at rehearsal, but it was harder at home because they shared a room. If Emma was in the room when Penelope got there, she would sit there solidly, without speaking, while Penelope asked her questions. If Penelope went to use the bathroom as Emma was coming out of it, Emma would turn slightly away from her and pretend to see something across the room in order to avoid eye contact. Their group trip to the arboretum was in three days. Penelope hoped they could patch things up by then. If they didn’t, it was going to be quite awkward. She tried not to think about it.

“Well, it’s their loss,” said Ted, smiling. “You are awesome.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Penelope. She was charmed in spite of herself. She liked compliments and they were rarely bestowed on her. Gustav was complimentary but only in a way that sounded like an elaborate joke about compliments.

As Penelope walked beside Ted, she realized that she had not talked to him one-on-one in some time. Her mind involuntarily flitted to the time they made out on her futon. She had not thought about that episode in months. It had been obscured by all the making out she had been doing with Gustav in bed. When she thought about it now, it seemed vaguely humiliating. She felt like her presence in the story was the thing that made it
especially embarrassing. If someone else had been in her place, she would have been more normal with Ted; they could have preserved a better friendship, or they would have chosen no friendship. She wouldn’t have freaked out as much about Helen of Troy, or she would have freaked out more and gotten over it. Penelope always did things in the worst way.

“In some ways, I kind of envy you,” continued Ted.

“Why?”

“Well, whatever you do it must be better than living with Mike, Nikil, and Jason. They have been talking about game theory and its connection to the housing process for the past month. The pregames have really taken a turn for the worse.”

“Maybe you should make new friends,” said Penelope.

“Who else would I be friends with?” asked Ted.

“I don’t know.”

“I literally do not know one person I would even want to be friends with.”

“You could live with me and Catherine?” said Penelope. Coed blocking groups were technically allowed. They were a sort of ornamental concession to liberalism, since you couldn’t actually live in the same room as someone of the opposite sex.

“She wanted to do that,” said Ted. “I thought it would be weird. What if we break up? It would be so awkward to see her in the same house.”

“That’s true,” said Penelope. “But you probably won’t break up.”

“We might break up this summer,” said Ted.

“Really?” Penelope was shocked. As hard as it had been for her in the beginning, she had now accepted Ted and Catherine as an inalienable fact.

“Yeah,” said Ted. “I think I might get an internship in Washington. I can’t really see how our thing is going to work. She’s going back to California. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh,” said Penelope. “Well, you can do long distance?”

“We’ll see,” said Ted grimly. “But I would have to call her every day.”

“Oh,” said Penelope. “Yeah.”

“What are you doing this summer?”

“I don’t know,” said Penelope. “I guess go home. Are people already deciding what they are going to do this summer? It is sleeting.”

“Oh, yeah, everyone is,” said Ted. “Or at least everyone in my room. That’s why I am going to the registrar’s. I have to get my transcript for my intern application.”

“Oh, weird,” said Penelope. “What are you applying for?”

“I am trying to be a Senate page.”

“You will be perfect for that,” said Penelope, thinking of the Roman Senate.

“Well, I think we have to separate here,” said Ted. They were in front of the library.

“Thanks for walking me,” said Penelope. She tried to wipe the sleet off her face with the back of her hand and failed.

“No problem. You know, you should apply to be a page in Washington too. It would be fun! It would be good to have a friend there.”

“Really?” asked Penelope.

“Yeah,” said Ted.

“I’ll think about it,” said Penelope. “But I don’t even know how many senators there are.”

“Well, bye,” said Ted. He ran down the street. Penelope walked thoughtfully into the library. What did it all mean? She didn’t care all that much, but she cared a little.

Sometime after this, Penelope was lying on her bed reading
Look Homeward, Angel
when Emma came into the room. Emma gave Penelope a look that could have peeled paint off a wall.

“Hi, Emma,” said Penelope.

Emma flung her purse onto her bed, turned around, and walked into the bathroom without speaking.

Early on in this feud, Penelope had hoped Emma would
just somehow forget about their tiff about Gustav. However, it seemed Emma was going to keep this going no matter what, and in a way, Penelope found that admirable. But Penelope really wanted to go to the arboretum. She was gradually becoming certain that if she went, it would usher in a new era in her relationship with Gustav. It would be an era of peace and conventionality. Pretty soon he would start hanging out with her in the daytime regularly. So she really had to patch this up.

Penelope went out into the common room and found Emma sitting on the futon tearing used pages out of her notebook and clipping them into a binder. Penelope stood near the futon and looked at the ground. Emma was wearing a lime-green pashmina scarf around her neck. It was an indoor scarf, apparently. Penelope wondered about the scarf. Did it itch? That was not a good question, she thought.

“Listen, Emma,” said Penelope.

“I am trying to organize my notes,” said Emma.

“I just want to say I’m sorry,” said Penelope.

Emma looked up.

“Whatever,” said Emma. “I am not mad.”

“What can I do?” said Penelope. “I feel terrible.”

“I just can’t believe you lied to me,” said Emma.

“I know,” said Penelope. “I’m sorry.”

“People are always failing me, and they are always disappointing me.”

“That must be hard,” said Penelope.

“I had a friend in high school who lied to me about her boyfriend for an entire year. So it’s even more hurtful.”

“Yes,” said Penelope.

“And for it to be Gustav. How could you do that to Bitty? Or me? I mean, we practically dated.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” said Penelope.

“I told you before.”

“Oh, right,” said Penelope. She still didn’t remember this, but it seemed futile to argue the point. “Well, what can I do?”

“I think you need to stop seeing Gustav,” said Emma simply and articulately. “It’s just so bad. It’s bad for you.”

“OK,” said Penelope.

“Good,” said Emma, who started clipping her notes into her binder again.

“Wait, really?” said Penelope.

“Yes,” said Emma.

“OK,” said Penelope.

Penelope walked back in her room. They had made up, it seemed. As she flopped onto her bed, she considered her philosophical stances. She tried to be agreeable most of the time and go with the flow, so if Emma really wanted her to stop seeing Gustav, then she supposed she would have to comply. At the same time, she really didn’t want to do that. Maybe she could keep things a secret. Impulsively, Penelope picked up her cell phone and texted Gustav the words “Hello, what are you up to?” Then she started reading her book again.