All I Ever Knew Was Your Name [Nick Robinson]

FORTY FIVE

july by noah cyrus

Penny makes a quick recovery by noon. She gets some food in her, has some coffee, then has some more coffee, but spiked, and she's on her a-game.

Who knew that a little bit of vodka would have someone so ready to take on the day after a long night of drinking?

I, thankfully, don't have a hangover. I'll thank the gods for that one, or maybe I'll thank the two cups of coffee and aspirin I had before bed last night. Either way, the guilt of breaking my sobriety is only eating at me slightly.

There's always tomorrow, right?

The guilt is masked with giddiness and warmth from my night with Nick. It's a closeness I haven't felt with anyone since he left. I feel like someone is finally on the same page as I am— like someone actually cares to listen to me. I'd almost forgotten what it's like to know such a beautiful soul.

"How long is this going in for?" I ask Penny, holding the nearly five pound glass dish with green bean casserole before the oven. There's only going to be the five of us at dinner: myself, Nick, Penny, Owen, and Alex. Yet it feels like I'm holding a four year old child.

"Twenty minutes," she says without turning her back, tending to three other side dishes.

I've offered help to her on something other than the green bean casserole, but she's denied it twice now. Penny thrives on this kind of stuff, anyways. She likes to be in charge.

I slide the dish into the oven, then find myself smiling over at Nick while he watches the football game with Owen and his dad.

The warmth inside me comes from him. His gently messed hair and stunning eyes, even when they're not looking at me, I find myself on my knees. He truly is everything.

His very presence is the light at the end of the tunnel— a very long, dark, tunnel. It's beautiful and bright and warm and inviting, welcoming me with open arms. It's everything I've needed since—

"Owen and I have a bet on whether or not you'll fuck tonight," Penny whispers out of the side of her mouth from beside me, causing me to close the oven and turn to her.

"What?"

She shrugs. "I think you won't. Owen says you will."

"Really? I would've thought it would be the other way around considering you're constantly horny and wanting us to have sex," I sneer, tossing the oven mitts on the counter.

She stirs the mashed potatoes in the crockpot, then hits the spoon on the side to remove any excess. "I may be horny, but I know you're a prude, Mary. It won't happen."

"Being a prude has nothing to do with it," I place my hands on my hips, trying to keep my voice low. "We're just friends— barely even that much!"

"Mary, you're such an idiot sometimes," she sighs, placing the glass lid over the mashed potatoes. "I can't believe someone so intelligent can be so dumb. I really can't."

"Penny—" I nearly gasp, taken back by her forwardness. Though, I should be used to it at this point.

"Why did you push him away, Mary?" she whispers, her voice seething as she stares daggers into me. "Huh? That night in August before my surprise party— you pushed him away after that. Why did you do that?"

I swallow hard. "Well, because he said that he felt guilty for—"

"He loves you, Mary! He's literally what you've been waiting for since I've known you, and he wants you back! Why is this so difficult for you to understand? Why—"