* If you began reading this story prior to January 11th, 2015, major revisions have been posted that affect the plot and storyline.
“That was delicious, Mom.” Penelope pushes her chair away from the dinner table.
“Thank you, dear.” Her mother sits across the table from her. It’s just the two of them tonight. Ash is at Brooke’s and her father is working out of town for a couple days. “Do you have plans for this evening?”
“Nope. Do you want to watch a movie or something?”
“I can’t. I have book club tonight.” Her mother wipes the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Can you clear the table for me?”
“Sure.” Penelope starts gathering the silverware. “Maybe I’ll call Row and see if she wants to come over. How late will you be?”
“A couple of hours. I should be home a little after 9.” Her mother heads out of the room to get ready.
Penelope dials Rowena’s number, jams the phone between her ear and shoulder, and starts stacking dishes.
“’Allo, ‘allo.” Rowena answers over the sound of background music.
“Hey, what ya doing?” Penelope pulls open the dishwasher and starts loading the supper dishes.
“Just finishing up that writing assignment for Social. Then I am planless and sad.”
“Wanna come over? Ash gave me some treats this morning.”
“Excellent.” Rowena elongates the word. “Want me to pick up snacks on the way.”
“If you want some, sure. You know I don’t eat candy.”
“I say it again. You are a weirdo. I’ll see you in fifteen.”
“See ya soon, lovely.” Shoving her phone in her pocket, Penelope flips the dishwasher door shut with her foot before heading into the living room. Picking up her backpack, she sinks onto the couch and pulls out her math books, knowing it won’t take long. Math is the only subject she doesn’t struggle with. She’s just putting her books away when she sees a car pulling up in front of the house. Rowena climbs out of the white Bug, a convenience store bag hanging from one hand. Her long blond hair catches in the wind and blows around her head. The late day sun glints off the yellow strands.
Rowena lets herself in the front door just as Penelope’s mom is putting on her shoes.
“Hello, Rowena” She smiles at her daughter’s oldest friend.
“Hey, Debbie. Off to book club?”
“Why yes! How did you know?”
Rowena taps the book tucked under Mrs. Chisholm’s arm. “What are you reading?”
“The Italian. It’s an old gothic novel.”
“I read it over the summer. I loved that book. How did you like it?” She reaches into her bag, pulling out a couple pieces of saltwater taffy. Handing one over, she pops a red and white striped one into her mouth.
“It was different than I expected. It took me a while to get used to the style, but once…”
“I hate to interrupt, but aren’t you supposed to be going to book club, not having it in the foyer?” Penelope chuckles, leaning over the railing at the top of the stairs.
“Right. Right. Have a nice evening, girls.” Mrs. Chisholm smiles as she backs out the door.
“Bye, Mom.” Penelope flips the lock on the door after her mother leaves and heads downstairs with Rowena.
YOU ARE READING
Going Through the Motions
RandomOur choices are what define us. What determine who we are and how other people see us. Seventeen-year-old Penelope Chisholm has always chosen to be on the outside. A bit of a loner who finds her solace in running. Until she meets Gilbert Staal and...
