“I want to go home,” she says abruptly.
Simon sits back. “What?”
“This was a mistake.” She’s looking more like her usual bold self, but with a manic edge I don’t like. “I didn’t think this through. I’m sorry.”
“Can we do that?” I ask. “Our tickets—”
“There’s got to be a spell to change them,” she says.
“There isn’t a spell for everything,” Simon says unpleasantly.
She shrugs. “Then we’ll buy new tickets.”
I huff. “We already stole these!”
Bunce won’t be discouraged: “Then you can buy us new ones, Baz—you’re rich.”
It’s not like her to throw my money in my face. “I’m on an allowance,” I say, “and I can’t use my Visa. My parents don’t even know I’m here.”
“Well,” she says, “my parents don’t know I’m here.”
Simon looks hurt. “Why didn’t you guys tell your parents?”
“Because this was a terrible idea, Simon”—Penny’s voice is breaking—“and they would have said no!”
Simon drops his elbows on the table and his forehead on his hands. “Can we even pay for dinner?”
“I’ll pay for dinner,” I say. “But I can’t pay for airline tickets. And we can’t just keep stealing. A youthful indiscretion is one thing—the Coven might overlook that. This is turning into a crime spree.”
“It isn’t a crime spree!” Penny retorts. “We’re not robbing banks and murdering people.”
“Yet!” I say.
“I just—” Her chin is wobbling now. “I really thought this would work out. I thought—” She closes her eyes and opens her mouth, taking a deep breath, then sucks in her lips and exhales through her nose. It takes me a second to realize she’s trying not to cry. “I thought it would be different if I talked to him face-to-face. And it was. It was so different.”
“You mean Micah?” Snow asks.
“Of course she means Micah,” I say.
Simon keeps prodding at her. “Did he break up with you?”
“Uh, no.” Bunce’s voice is thready. “Apparently he’d already done that. And I just hadn’t got the message.”
“Damn,” Simon whispers. We’ve both leaned back in the booth, like we’re trying to back away from the horror of this news. Like Bunce is suddenly contagious.
And I know this makes me a shit, but my first thought is that Simon and I have been given a reprieve. Like the Grim Relationship Reaper came and accidentally took Penelope and Micah instead of us.
15
SIMON
Penelope and Micah are going to get married, and Penny’s going to move to America and leave me alone—I’ve been bracing for it since sixth year.
Penelope and Micah are sure of each other.
I’ve never heard Penelope worry over whether Micah still loved her or loved her in the right way. I’ve never seen her crying about him in the hallway with her girlfriends. (Penny doesn’t really have girlfriends. She has Agatha, sort of. And her mum. She has me.…) Penelope and Micah never fight. He never forgets their anniversary. I don’t think Penny cares about anniversaries.
When Penelope talks about Micah, she seems stronger, more rooted to the ground. She doesn’t blink. She doesn’t doubt. I’ve never heard her snipe at him, the way people do, for saying something harmless. I’ve never heard her say, “What does that mean?” Or “Why are you using that tone of voice?” I’ve never seen her roll her eyes when he’s talking—or breathe passive-aggressively, that breathing that means, “I’m so tired of you. Shut up shut up shut up.”
I suppose I haven’t actually seen them together since fourth year. And they weren’t really in love then, they were just kids. Micah was a massive swot. All he wanted to do was study and talk about video games. Penelope liked him immediately—which is unheard of. I don’t think Penny liked me immediately. It was more like she took charge of me immediately. Like I was an easy mark. Maybe Micah was an easy mark, too. He followed Penny around Watford, practising spells and catching Pokémon and eating sesame seed sweets that his mum got from Puerto Rico and sent from Illinois. (They weren’t bad. Chewy.)
There was no Internet at Watford, so Penny and Micah wrote each other actual letters during the term. I have so many memories of Penelope running out onto the Great Lawn with a letter from Micah that they’ve become one memory—Penny in her pleated skirt and knee socks, smiling, a white envelope in her hand.
Penelope and Micah were going to get married.
And now … Merlin, what now?
* * *
Baz and I aren’t saying anything, but Penny is nodding as if we were.
“Are you sure—” I try.
“Very,” she says.
“You probably both need to sleep on it.”
“No.”
“Maybe—”
“No! Simon! He’s dating someone else.”
“Bastard,” Baz hisses.
“No,” Penny laughs. “He’s not a bastard, he’s just—” She looks up at me. “—not in love with me.” Her shoulders start shaking, and a second later, she’s crying. “I think it was all in my head, all along.”
“Buffalo Blasts?” A different waiter is at our table. Baz takes the plates, then waves the man away while he’s asking whether we need any ketchup or ranch dressing. Crowley, this burger is gorgeous. It has hash browns on it. Baz’s steak is so rare, it looks like strawberry jelly.
“It wasn’t all in your head,” I say. “He wrote you letters.” Are we eating, I wonder. Or is this too tragic for eating?
“We were pen pals,” Penny says.
“You Skyped. He told you he loved you, I’ve heard him.”
That makes her cry some more. “Well, apparently he didn’t mean it!” She picks up a Buffalo Blast and takes a big, tearful bite. (Hurrah—we are eating!)
“He said it was my fault,” she says with her mouth full, “that I didn’t want a real relationship. He said I just wanted to have a boyfriend, so that I could check it off and worry about more important things.”
Baz picks up his knife and fork, and carefully starts cutting his steak.
“I can see what you’re thinking, Basilton. I know you agree with him.”
“I don’t agree with him, Bunce.”
“But?”
“I don’t agree with him. And I don’t know anything about relationships.”
“But I had checked him off,” she says. “I thought we were going to get married.” She’s crying hard now.
Baz drops his cutlery and swings over to Penny’s side of the table, helping her set her Blast down, putting his arm around her. “Please don’t choke to death, Bunce. Imagine the humiliation of dying at The Cheesecake Factory.”
Penny turns in to his shoulder and cries some more. “Micah’s right,” she sobs. “I took him for granted.”