Page 39 of The One
Someone needed to watch out for Penelope this weekend and make sure Rhett’s party didn’t get out of control—roles no one had asked me to take on but that I’d assigned to myself.
TEN
Rhett
Sixteen Years Ago
“What’s up, Penelope?” I said as I walked through the living room of the girls’ house, getting closer to where she was lying on the couch.
I hadn’t bothered to ring the bell since their parents were out for the day. She didn’t look at me or respond, but her eyes were open, and her arms were raised high, her hands moving like they were dancing but no music was playing. The sight was odd enough that I paused in front of her.
“Pen?” I stood over her, making it impossible for her to miss me.
But the weird thing was, she didn’t appear as if she was seeing me at all.
“Penelope?” I waited. “Yo!” I shook her shoulder. “Pen … hello? Why aren’t you answering me?”
When I pulled my hand away, she sat up like a bolt of lightning, reaching for the dark blue glass on the coffee table,and while she guzzled several sips, her eyes finally connected with mine. When they did, she almost choked mid-swallow.
“Rhett!” She wiped her mouth, returning the glass to the table. “I didn’t even see you! What are you doing here? Oh, never mind. I know.” She pointed behind her, to no place in particular. “If you’re looking for Lain, she’s up there. Somewhere.”
“I know Lainey’s in her room.”
“Then, why are you here with me? Unless you came over to see me …” Her teeth skimmed her lip. “Ah, Rhett, you’re finally coming to your senses.” She smiled as though she’d just scored a point. “Sit.” She patted the spot next to her. “Tell me all the reasons why you think I’m the better twin.”
I studied her blown-out pupils and the way her hands wouldn’t stop moving. How there was something about the way she’d positioned her body and how her jaw was swinging that just didn’t feel right.
And what she was saying—that shit felt so off too.
What the fuck is going on with you, Penelope?
“I was just making sure you were all right. That’s why I’m standing here.” I nodded toward her. “You’re looking a little fucked up, Pen, and it’s only eleven in the morning.”
“I’m looking hot. And you”—her eyes dipped down my body—“are looking all kinds of hot.” She took another drink and almost dropped the cup when she returned it. The glass was too dark of a blue to tell what was inside. “Besides, I’m the best ever. Just like you’re the best ever. Just like”—she smiled and pointed up—“she’s the best ever.” She started to dance again, this time her shoulders moving, her neck sliding left and then right. “Did you hear?”
I shifted my weight and crossed my arms, wondering why I was giving her any attention rather than going upstairs to find Lainey. In my gut, I knew something was up, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it. “Hear what?”
“I’m celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?”
“All the things. For all the reasons.” She turned her head, giving me a side angle of her smile. “This badass”—she thumbed her chest—“got into NYU. I’m going back to New York. Where I belong. Wanna come with me?”
“Congrats—”
“Penelope,” a guy called out.
I hadn’t known anyone was here; there hadn’t been any additional cars in the driveway when I arrived. He wasn’t in the living room; it sounded like he was in the kitchen. Whoever it was, his voice was vaguely familiar.
“I’m getting a pizza delivered. Do you want pepperoni or sausage?”
“And kill this buzz? Don’t think so.” She winked at me.
“Baby, I have plenty more to keep that buzz roaring.” He poked his head into the living room. “You’re really not hungry—” His voice cut off when his eyes met mine.
Anthony Potter.
The captain of the lacrosse team.
