by Brill Harper
The first time Penelope got cramps, Shane the Squeamish turned into a fucking nursemaid. He brought her chocolate and pain relievers and made her a heat pack while forcing me to watch chick flicks with them. It wasn’t awful. I liked watching him take care of her. I liked being a part of something that the real world can’t touch.
Which makes today suck monkey balls.
Today begins a week-long Thanksgiving break and we’re in the car. Shane is coming home with me since he hates going home to his family. Penelope will be at her parents’ house in the same town as us, but I’m having a hard time imagining what it will be like to be separated from her. I’m fucking twisted in knots over this. I’m starting to think my feelings are stronger than I thought. I’m starting to wonder if I’m in love.
Hell, I don’t need to wonder. My heart and my gut are already on board, it’s my head, the big one, that still questions it. The littler one was sure from day one.
I was made to be a guy in a relationship, unlike Shane. I’ve always wanted a stable love life—again, unlike Shane. I grew up in a great home, unlike Shane, and dream about giving my future wife and kids all the privileges I was raised with. And more.
So, yeah. I’m a kickass boyfriend. Still friends with all my exes. Still always looking for the right girl to have a good relationship with.
I never thought I would share that with another dude, though. It never occurred to me to share a woman until we all kissed in the kitchen. I’m not a cuckold—I checked the internet and I don’t get off because I’m being humiliated. And I don’t think of sharing Penelope like she’s some kind of possession. It’s the chemistry between the three of us. It’s this feeling deep inside that feels real. Whether we’re naked and sticky or cuddled on the couch watching Mean Girls and eating ice cream.
But we break all the rules I thought were important to me, and I’m not sure how to deal with that.
The trip takes about three hours, and each mile we get quieter.
“We should tell your sister that you and Pen are dating,” Shane says, clearly having thought about it during the silences.
Penelope and I both answer in the negative.
Shane takes off his seatbelt and leans between our front seats. “Baby girl, you hate lying to Jenna. She’s your best friend. If you at least told her that part, you wouldn’t feel so bad. Some truth in the lying will ease your brain.”
I can see Penelope shaking her head violently from the corner of my eye. “She’s going to be mad that I kept it from her all this time, and it will spoil our time together for the whole break.”
“Tell her you just started dating Shane,” I offer. “It’s a new thing and you wanted to be sure about it before telling her.”
They both balk at that too.
“I’m not boyfriend material,” he protests.
Right. What does he think boyfriend material is exactly? He seems to be pretty good at it from what I’ve seen.
I want him to love her. I think maybe he does, but I’m afraid he’ll never let himself feel it. And if he gets too close to it, he’ll run. I’m not one to talk since it’s not like I’ve admitted my feelings to her either.
But it’s a package deal. I want us both to love her. I can’t explain it. I just do.
Before we get into town, I pull over at the end of an empty parking lot.
“What are we doing here?” she asks, looking around. The grocery store has been closed for about a year, the only other vehicles in the lot are for sale.
“We can’t kiss you when we drop you off. Need to say our real goodbyes here.”
“Jesus, you whipped mofo,” Shane says around a laugh. “It’s only seven nights, and we’re in the same zip code.” After I lean over the console and kiss her deeply, he sighs. “Okay, I see what you mean. My turn.”
He kisses her, then points her face back toward me. I kiss her and don’t have to turn her much, he’s already right there, waiting. Pretty soon, the three of us are kissing. I don’t know whose tongue is whose, and this is something new. It should freak me out, even a little, but it doesn’t. She’s our girl. We’re hers. We both belong to this hot little nerd, and she wants us both. I feel the rasp of his stubble on my cheek, and it’s strange, but not bad.
When the kiss ends, we’re all three of us a little quiet, contemplating the newest development in our relationship. When we drop her off, Shane carries her bag to the door, and we say hello to her parents, act like Boy Scouts, and leave her.
I feel fucking hollow as I pull away.
“This sucks.”
“Yep.”
“I can’t believe we just left her there.”
“Yep.”
“We need to figure out how to make everyone as cool with this as we are. I don’t give a rat’s ass what people think of me, but I don’t want you guys to get pulled down. I don’t want people gossiping about Penelope.”
I tap on the steering wheel. “I can’t think of any combination of words that will make everyone cool with this. Her parents, my parents, my sister...and that’s not including our coach or teammates, or the people Penelope goes to class with. I don’t want people pointing at her or talking behind her back, either.”
Shane thumps his head on the backrest. “We can hide it for a while. But are you thinking this is a long-term thing?”
“Truth?” I ask and hold my breath. He’s my best friend, not just my drinking buddy or roommate. Best. Friend. The kind that take bullets for each other.
“Always, dude.”
“I do think this is a long-term thing. I’m trying not to rush things, since we’re her first boyfriends.”
“You’re her first boyfriend. I’m a friend with benefits.”
“Bullshit.” I miss a turn on purpose because we need to finish this conversation before we go inside my parents’ house. “When I say long-term I mean the three of us.”
“I’m not in it for that.”
“Bullshit,” I repeat. “You’re crazy about her. It doesn’t matter if you say the words or not. I know you care about her more than you’re used to caring.” It was his idea for the three of us to be exclusive to each other.
“Whatever.” That means he’s done talking about this. He doesn’t like confrontations. Never has. His family life is fucked up, so avoiding arguments is his MO. And I don’t want to fight.
When we pull into the driveway, my sister bounds out of the house and runs to greet us. Jenna is like champagne bubbles. I feel like shit for keeping my relationship with her best friend a secret.
“Is Penelope with you?” she asks, dipping her head to look in the car like maybe we closed her in there.
“No. We dropped her off first.”
Her face falls. “Damn. She’s coming to spend the night with me on Wednesday though. It will be just like old times.” I catch the glance Shane throws me. It will be nice to have her under the same roof again, but damn, that’s going to be hard too.
We go inside the house to put our stuff in my room. I’m amazed at how nothing in the house changes. Each time I come home for a break, I feel different than the guy who left, but the house is like a snapshot that is always the same.
We throw our bags on the twin beds in my room. The plaid bedspreads match the plaid curtains. My trophies from Tee-ball through senior year line the shelves. My letterman jacket hangs on the chair. Did my mom bring that out of my closet? I know I didn’t put it there. She’s obviously dusted the shelves too.
I pick it up and take it back to my closet.
“Your sister is going to make a pass at me.”
I pause, the hanger in my hand. “What did you just say?”
“Your sister. She had a look in her eye before we came upstairs.” He throws his arms out, palms up. “What? You don’t think I’m sexy?”
“My sister is—”
“Not on my list. I’m just telling you. I’ll let her down as easy as I can.”
I roll my eyes. This is getting to be very complicated.
“But we are with Penelope. For now. Exclusive so we don’t have to wear rubbers.”
Yeah, sure, Shane. That’s why we’re exclusive.
Shane picks up a baseball and sits on the end of his bed, then throws the ball up in the air and catches it. He does that sometimes when he talks. Like just talking is too much pressure and he has to distract himself in order to communicate. “Bet as a kid, you never thought you’d be banging the same chick as your buddy.”
So, he’s ready to resume our conversation from the car.
I swipe the ball from mid-air. “When I was a kid, I thought all girls were gross, and I was never getting married.”
“I always liked girls.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” I sit on the end of my bed. “But I never thought I would be okay with sharing a woman with my friend. I’m still waiting to feel jealous or something.”
He pushes his duffel onto the floor and lays down, using his hands interlocked under his head as a pillow. “I guess I assumed I would try it once or twice, but never thought it would be a regular thing. Something about her makes me ready for it all the time, man. I’ve tried to figure it out. She’s cute, but cute was never my hotness factor. I keep waiting for you to tell me you want her to yourself and wondering how I’m going to stay when things change. I don’t want a woman to come between us—well, figuratively. I enjoy having a woman come between us literally.”
“I’m not going to tell you I want her for myself. That’s not how this works.”
“Dude, this isn’t supposed to work at all. At some point, you’re going to need to date the girl you’re going to marry so you can run for office. And if that’s Penelope, then you’ll need me to make myself scarce, so you can have your happily ever after.”
“I thought you were going to live in an apartment over my garage for the rest of my life.”
He finally looks at me instead of the ceiling. “Not with her. I thought about it before, but now I know I’d always covet your wife. It would rip us all apart.”
It feels like his words have weight. Like they’re pushing the air around. “Nothing is going to rip us apart, man. You’re my best friend.”
His gaze goes back to the ceiling. “When you get married, your wife is supposed to be your best friend.”
“Shane.” I wait until his eyes come back to mine. “Nothing will rip us apart. I promise. Do we need to do a blood brother oath or something?”
His grin opens up his whole face. “Nah, I believe you. We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”
“You want to go shoot hoops?”
“Fuck, yeah. This room is giving me claustrophobia. You were a bigger all-American dweeb when you lived here than you are at home, and that’s saying something.”
He’s not wrong.
And for the first time, home is not this room, this house. Home is three hours away with two people who mean more to me than they should.
Chapter Seven
The grocery store on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving is fucking nuts. Jenna and I are pushing the cart as best we can through the clogged aisles trying to get the last few items on my mom’s list. Shane got the coveted position of staying at the house and getting the table leaf out of the basement and bringing up the extra chairs.
Fucker.
Jenna is staring at the jar in her hand. “What is mincemeat exactly? Is it like Spam or something?”
“Why would Mom make Spam pie?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I never tried it.”
“All these years, you thought she was serving Spam pie? And you never asked?”
She shrugs. “I thought it might be like the trifle from Friends. Besides, Mom makes a lot of weird stuff. What does she always say? ‘It’s a Minnesota thing.’ Like right before she adds mayonnaise to something that doesn’t need mayo.”
I shake my head. “It’s not meat.”
“Why do they call it meat then?”
I feel like I’m having a discussion with Jessica Simpson about a can of tuna fish right now. “I don’t know.” She is my sister, though, and I love her, so I add, “Don’t ever eat sweetbreads.”
“Why? What are sweetbreads?”
“Not sweet. Or bread. It’s like the sheep pancreas or something.”
She makes barfy sounds and puts the jar in the cart.
We cross off the last thing on the list and get in a line longer than Space Mountain’s. Jenna checks her phone, but while she’s scrolling, she asks me, “Is Shane seeing someone?”
“Yes,” I answer without thinking it through. “I thought you were with that Steven guy?”
She crinkles her forehead. “A month ago.” She shrugs. “It didn’t work out.”
“That sucks. Sorry.”
“In high school, I always dreamed about dating college guys. Now that I’m in college, I think I’d rather just skip to someone in his thirties. No offense, but you dude bros are really immature.”
I’m not really excited about the thought of my eighteen-year-old sister dating a guy in his thirties but if it keeps her attention away from a conversation about Shane, I guess I will go with it.
“What about you?”
We move the cart ahead about four inches. “I’m...in a relationship.”
“Who is it?”
“We’re keeping it to ourselves right now. The ice cream is going to melt before we get out of this line.”
“Why are you being so weird about it? Is she like your professor or something?”
“No. We’re just being private right now.”
She rolls her eyes. “Who is Shane seeing?”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
“Fletcher, what is wrong with you? You have known me my whole life, and you know if you act like something is secret I’m just going to go nuts until I figure it out. I hate mysteries. What, are two you seeing each other?”
I nod emphatically. “You figured it out. Yes. Shane and I are a couple now.”
“Whatever.”
“Hey, I could be gay.”
All conversation stops around us, and Jenna erupts into giggles. “That’s going to get back to the ‘rents before we get home.”
Small-town life.
“I just don’t understand the big secrecy. It’s not like I really know that many people you go to school with. Does Penelope know?” Jenna lights up with an evil enthusiasm. “I bet she does.” She claps.
“Do not put her in the middle of this. That’s not fair. She has to live with us, and you’re her best friend. Don’t make her choose loyalties.”
We push the cart ahead another four inches. “You say that because you know she’d pick me.”
“Whatever.”
The person in front of us remembers she forgot something, so she pulls her cart out of line, and we start unloading. Must be our lucky day. A lot of people would have just made everyone wait. Jenna handles the jar of mincemeat like it’s a bomb that might go off. “So really, I don’t get why you and Shane are both secretive about your relationships. Maybe one of you, but not both.”
“Maybe we’re seeing the same girl.”
She squints at me and then shakes her head. “No way. Not buying that one either.”
By the time we get home and get the groceries unloaded, it’s time to pick up Penelope for her slumber party with Jenna. I give my sister the keys to my car and then go up to my room to change my shirt. Because I’m suddenly filled with nervous excitement, and I want to look nice. My life is so weird right now. Penelope has seen me in dirty sweats, naked, and in a Fred costume. It’s not like I’ll impress her with a fresh T-shirt. But I feel like making an effort even though she’
s going to be here to see my sister.
My folks order pizza for dinner, and we all catch up at the kitchen table. I don’t know how my family isn’t feeling the sexual tension in the room. My gaze keeps landing on the pulse point of Penelope’s neck. I want to kiss her, right here, right now, in front of everyone.
After dinner, we have a movie night. During an intermission between the first and second movie, Pen offers to get more drinks from the kitchen. I offer to help her.
We round the corner, and she whispers, “I’ve missed you two so much,” and I’m gone.
I lean down, and our mouths crash together, her lips opening immediately for my tongue. Her hot little body presses into mine, molding herself around me as her arms loop around my neck. My hand slides under the back of her T-shirt, her skin so hot it feels like sparks.
She wrenches away from me, trying to catch her breath. “We can’t.”
“I know.”
Our eyes lock and I can feel her in my heart. Shit. I really am gone, aren’t I? “I miss you, too.”
She husks out a laugh and straightens her shirt before opening the fridge. “This has been a seriously long week, and I looked forward to tonight the whole time—but it’s worse. To be here but be lying. To be so close you and not be able to...touch you. What are we even doing, Fletcher?”
I reach out and push her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “Shane would say you’re overthinking.”
She nods.
“We’ll figure it out, Pen. I promise.”
She nods again. “I believe you.”
And that fills my chest up with something altogether new.
She trusts me. She believes me.
I’m going to have to make this work.
Later that night, in the dark, Shane speaks into the silence, giving up on pretending to be asleep any more. “You got to kiss her in the kitchen, didn’t you?”
“Yep. Sorry, man.”
“No, it’s cool. I would’ve.”
Silence.
Shane sighs. “I’m so fucking horny.”
I laugh. “Me too. The kiss made it worse.”