All I Ever Knew Was Your Name [Nick Robinson]

THIRTY TWO

kathleen by catfish and the bottlemen

It's May.

I've officially been moved into Penny's apartment for about a week now, and I have to say, it's nice not being alone in a great big house for once.

She offered for me to move in with her while I figure things out, which then turned into me paying rent and actually living in her place with her.

I lost the house, anyways. It was my only option.

Calvin had to be put down right after Mom passed. I think he died of a broken heart. He took the easy way out. I wish I could do the same.

Things have been really hard.

After Mom died, things truly fell apart. Penny and Owen were with me almost a hundred percent of the time. Though I told myself they did it to keep me company, I know they did it so I wouldn't wind up hurting myself.

Even I was afraid of what I could do.

I had to plan Mom's funeral. Penny and Owen helped. Alex, too.

I didn't cry much. I knew it was coming. We all did. Even Mom. She told me time and time again: "Don't cry over me, Mary. You've got such a beautiful life."

And I'd reply with: "Yeah? What's so beautiful about it?"

She never had an answer.

She knew I lost a lot, and I was about to lose her too. She couldn't make anything up even if she wanted to. There was absolutely no sugarcoating it.

Since she left, I really am alone.

"Let's have birthday cake for dinner," Penny plops down on the couch beside me.

She smells like cocoa butter and weed, which has become so very comforting to me. Her whole apartment has the subtle scent of her, but I still feel at home. I've known Penny for a year, and she's already home.

Of course, my options are slim, but she makes it easy.

"Birthday cake?" I ask.

I turn my attention away from the news to see her blowing a pink bubble with pursed lips before letting it pop! in her face. Her blue hair is baby pink now, and it's in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Rather than pushing her rainbow hair fantasies on me, she decided to take her own advice and go with pink.

She looks pretty.

"Yeah! You know," she shrugs. "That Funfetti shit!"

I stick my tongue out. "Gross."

"Pack your bags and get out," she says without hesitance. This has to be the fourteenth time she's kicked me out of her apartment— today.

"It's nasty! It's so fucking sweet!"

Living with Penny is making me swear like a sailor.

"When's the last time you had it?" she tips her head, her pretty pink locks falling over her bare shoulder.

I shrug. "I was probably, like, ten but it doesn't matter! It's still—"

"Fuck you, Mary. I have a box in the pantry I've been dying to make, and we're making it," she clicks off the TV, and pulls me up by my forearm.

And that's what we do.

We bake a cake together in the middle of May while singing old Britney Spears songs like we're nine years old again. Penny insists on eating half of the frosting we made with a spoon, and the other half she tries to feed to me.