The Class Reject: A Martyr in Maelstrom (Book III)

82

The Van Helsings.

Rapid-fire Spanish took up most of the sterile air, a blend of Penelope's mom, Ben, and Penelope's voices. It was hard to decipher what exactly they were saying, but it was obvious no one was happy. Miren pursed her lips in contemplation. She was dressed as Miles--she could easily waltz in there, drop off the flowers, and GTFO. But before she could even take a step forward, she heard an angry strut of heels followed by Dr. Van Helsing emerging from the room with Ben and disappearing down the opposite side of the hallway

Miren sighed deeply, but felt no relief. Rather, she started moving toward the room before she could convince herself otherwise. Penelope's door was already propped open, and she slipped inside. But getting inside the room was the farthest she had thought out. And when Penelope turned toward her, her throat instantly went dry as she looked at the bruised girl.

It was rude to stare, but it was hard not too. Penelope looked more or less fine--a white bandage wrapped around her head like a winter hat, and her right leg was in a cast that capped over her knee. She looked tired and disheveled, but it seemed more attributable to the bleak, life draining hospital environment, than some acute process. But aside from that, she looked healthy.

And Miren couldn't be happier.

"Miles," Penelope finally said, blinking. "Why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"Because I was expecting the worst," Miren then said, coming closer, to the side of the bed opposite of the IV cart. She handed Penelope the flowers. "I was in Philadelphia for a few days checking in on Jeno. But I should have come by sooner."

"Apart from Parker and Jemma, my mom hasn't allowed any other visitors," Penelope folded her arms. "I mean, Artemis left flowers, and so did the school, but I honestly don't think anyone wants to actually talk to me." Her eyes shifted to the bouquet in her arms, a small smile forming on her lips. "So it means a lot that you stopped by."

"Of course," Miren said, gritting her teeth behind passive lips. It would be so easy to continue to humor Penelope--engage in small talk for ten minutes then excuse herself in order to go check on Chara. But she was in an emotional bind. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"So am I," Penelope agreed. "My leg should heal in a few months. I'm really lucky that I didn't die--the car was clipped pretty bad on my side." She shook her head. "Stupid Bill Clinton High kids. They're lucky my parents aren't pressing charges. I actually don't know what got into them. They're so concerned--it's like my mom forgives me for everything that has happened."

"Your mom loves you regardless of what you've done, even if it doesn't seem like that," Miren assured her. "They're your family."

"I know," Penelope said, her blue eyes suddenly sentimental. "I finally told her that I'm a lesbian--and she didn't judge me or scold me. She said that she loved me and that she wants me to live in my truth with Chara. Can you believe it?"

"I can." Miren nodded. "You deserve to be happy."

"So do you." Penelope extended her hand to the girl in drag. "So do you."

Everything about the moment was heartfelt and game-changing, but the weight of the world was instantly on Miren's shoulders. To reveal or not reveal? It would change nothing. But it would change everything.

"I want you to have something," Miren said, before reaching into her pocket. She pulled out her locket, it's silver melted from the fire, its finish scrapped by cement and rubble, and handed it to Penelope.

"Wait, how do you have this?"

Miren's mouth quivered before Penelope's eyes widened.

"Did you get this from my brother? My mom's been holding onto it and wouldn't let me have it."