I entered the library with suspicion and fear and exited with excitement. Henry wondered aloud what left a smile on my face. I had much to ponder as he drove me home. Wasn't I supposed to be upset or conflicted about the morality of the situation? Wasn't I supposed to try to stop Penelope? Why was I elated she liked my ideas? Why did I work that hard for her approval?
I didn't like Penelope. I thought her methodology was flawed. Right?
Wrong.
Wyatt didn't like Penelope. He thought her methodology was flawed. He despised the way she conducted herself as if she couldn't be touched. Because he didn't like her, I wasn't supposed to.
I discovered Penelope's business in freshman year. Wyatt told me about it. He was a major gossip and wanted to trash-talk her. I remember nodding and going along with him. Whether or not I truly agreed was irrelevant because his opinions were my opinions.
I never saw it that way before. We had different interests like he was into soccer and painting while I liked roller blading and rocks. We both enjoyed reading. But those were surface level interests.
When it came to things that were important. Social things. My opinions were a reflection of his. So much of who I was and how I thought was determined by Wyatt. I was an extension of him.
I pinched myself.
I was real.
I was.
Wasn't I?