Page 35 of The Penalty

RHYS

“What is all this for?” Teddy leans over with his not whisper in the middle of the dedication.

“My father donated the money to build the building so they are dedicating it to him.”

“What is dedicating?”

I close one eye, trying to think of the best way to explain it. “I guess it’s just celebrating him for giving the school money.”

“Rich people are weird.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” I lean back in my chair, not letting myself look over at my brothers.

“So, is this all it is?”

“No, there is a cocktail party after.”

“I don’t like cocktails.” Teddy wrinkles his nose, but the ick doesn’t stop with his expression. It seems to take over his whole body in an aggressive shake.

“What was that?”

“My body rejecting a cocktail. It’s very particular.”

“Teddy, I’ve seen you drink.”

“Drinks are different.”

“You drink vodka orange juice all the time,” I say confused.

Is he somehow misunderstanding me?

“Yeah, that’s not a cocktail,” he says it so emphatically that I want to believe him.

The golden retriever energy really is endearing.

I hate myself a little for liking it as much as I do. “Cocktails are mixed drinks.”

“No! They are cocktails.” He draws out the word like it’s going to get his point across.

“What’s in a cocktail?” I ask. Maybe he had one and thought only that drink was a cocktail.

“Grossness.”

“That really narrows it down.” I laugh because, honestly, his antics are growing on me. Which probably means I’m losing it, but oh well. At least I’ll have fun on the way to my mental health break.

“It’s like gin, and vegetation that made my mouth all dry.”

“Vegetation? Like vegetables?” I really can’t picture what he’s describing.

“No, it’s nothing like vegetables. It’s really dry.”

“Vermouth?”

“No, that doesn’t sound right.” He shakes his head.

“What else is in it?” I’m pretty sure he’s talking about a martini, but it could be anything.

“Olives, and a cocktail is always in those glasses shaped like a vagina.”

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