Bad Penny

by Staci Hart

  The exchange had been everything I’d feared, except somehow infinitely worse in reality than my imagination had been able to conjure. The look on his face, the resigned tone, the sadness in his eyes when he let me down gently.

  But there was no amount of care that could have stopped me from breaking completely when I hit the ground.

  The lump in my throat was sticky and hard, and I swallowed it down painfully only for it to bob back up.

  Over, over, over. The word echoed with every footstep.

  I’d come for closure and gotten it. I’d gotten it so hard, I might never get over it.

  20

  AVALANCHE

  Bodie

  Phil paced across the waiting room of Avalanche’s headquarters in Midtown, and I stared at my hands clasped between my knees with steam under the collar of my tailored shirt.

  Jude seemed completely calm. The subtle façade of not giving a fuck in action. It was for show, though. He was just as nervous as the rest of us were.

  We’d presented our demo to a handful of execs, which was weird to say since they were wearing jeans. One guy even had a T-shirt on with a binary joke on it that made me think of Penny. Because even then, even during our presentation, she’d found a way into my head.

  I’d done all the talking, and when they had gotten their hands on the controllers and started to play, I’d found hope. Every one of them had gone wide-eyed, and as I’d pitched the story to them, their smiles had brightened just enough to betray their attempts to keep their poker faces on.

  It had gone well. Very well.

  But I counted on nothing as we waited for them in the lobby of their office.

  My palms were damp and nerves shot as our hopes and dreams hung in the balance of a few quiet minutes.

  It won’t be the end if they don’t take us, I told myself.

  There were dozens more companies we could pitch to if this didn’t work out, especially now that the demo was finished. But this … this was the holy grail, the absolute, the top of the list. The dream. The fact that we’d even gotten a meeting was unreal. The hopes of it getting better than that felt too slim to count on.

  The doors to the conference room opened, and we were invited back, so we filed in and took seats. I was so nervous, I thought I might combust. But outwardly, I tried to keep cool, scanning their faces for some hint as to what they’d say.

  Paul, the CEO spoke first. “I’d like to start by saying that we don’t make a habit of keeping designers here while we talk, but I have to say — we were impressed.”

  Hope sprang, putting out the fear with a sizzle.

  “You’ve hit all the high notes. The story is epic, and the twist … the twist just makes the whole thing sweeter. We see a three-game series over the course of six years. Breakneck, I know, but with our team and your brains, I think it’s feasible. That is, if you’re still interested in a partnership with us.”

  I blinked, trying to remember to breathe. “Absolutely.”

  Paul smiled. “Great. We’ve got to get with our team to put together the numbers, but we’d like to offer you a deal. This is one of the best demos we’ve seen — the hard work you’ve put into it is the real reason we feel comfortable taking the step — so we want you all to come in on lead positions to help us get the game produced just how you want it. You’ll retain a level of control over everything — story, content, gameplay, UI — though it’ll ultimately need approval. But I give you my word; this is your story, your vision, and because we like what we see, we’ll put our trust in you. What do you think?”

  I glanced at Phil and Jude, who nodded their approval. And then I smiled back at Paul. “I think you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  We beamed as we all shook hands, and with another meeting on the books to discuss details, the three of us headed out of the office. When we made it outside, we broke into jumps and laughter and back-clapping and bro hugs, and I thought my heart might blow from sheer joy. Because we’d done it. The hard work had paid off.

  We’d just landed jobs at one of the best game design companies in America.

  Once we caught our breaths, Phil pulled out his phone to call Angie, and Jude got his phone out too, wandering off to talk to who knew who.

  Before I knew it, my phone was in my hand and my thumb was hovering over Penny’s name.

  I’d been so caught up that I’d forgotten we weren’t okay. I’d forgotten I couldn’t just call her, not without answering questions I didn’t have a response for. Not without making a move I didn’t know I was ready to make.

  I pictured her face as she’d stood before me on my doormat, the smallness of her in the expanse of the hallway. She was all of a sudden the only person in the world I wanted to talk to, and the last person who I could.

  The worst part was that I wasn’t even mad anymore. I was hurt and sad and exhausted by her, but I wasn’t mad. And I missed her.

  A sick, masochistic part of me — my heart — wanted to give it another shot, wanted to hear her out and try again. The rest of me — my brain — told me I’d already slammed my hand in the door once, making a point of reliving the pain in an attempt to convince me not to do it again.

  In the end, I figured they were probably both wrong. Because either way I looked at it, I was damaged, and I didn’t know how or when I’d recover.

  21

  MOBY FUCKING DICK

  Penny

  My room was dark even though it was after noon. Between the stormy day and my drawn curtains, I found myself happily miserable, buried in my sheets and blankets, listening to my Sad Panda playlist on repeat.

  I’d done nothing but work and sleep for two days, and that morning, I’d woken up at seven, completely rested and still completely exhausted. I existed in that in-between — that state of mind where you couldn’t physically sleep anymore, but you couldn’t get out of bed either, folding in on yourself like origami until you disappeared. So I’d made plans to do absolutely nothing on my day off besides lie in bed and stare at my wall.

  There was just so much to think about. I counted my mistakes and regrets in a loop like “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” though less cheery and somehow infinitely more depressing and obnoxious. I’d exhausted my tears. At least, I thought I had. Every time I’d said it, they’d find their way back again, pricking the corners of my eyes.

  It was over. And it was all my fault.

  I sighed and rolled over, pulling a pillow into my aching chest.

  My bedroom door flew open, and Veronica stood in the frame, hands on her hips like an unamused Wonder Woman. “Why are you still in bed?” she asked like she didn’t know the answer.

  I frowned and sank a little deeper into my blanket burrito. “Leave me alone, Ronnie.”

  “Nope.” In three steps, she was at the foot of my bed with my blankets in her fists. She pulled, effectively subjecting me to the cruel, cruel world.

  I scrambled to catch the covers before they were gone, but they lay in a pile on the floor, and Ronnie’s hands were back on her stupid traitorous hips.

  “Come on, smelly. You’ve been locked in here listening to Mazzy Star for days. You need a shower and a drink and a new playlist.”

  I covered my face with my pillow and curled up in a ball like I could hide. “Go away.”

  “Nope! Get up!” The bed dipped as she climbed on, stood up, and started jumping.

  “Ugh!”

  I flung a pillow at her, and she laughed, catching it midair to toss it behind her.

  “Whoops, you lost another place to hide.” She put a little more force into her bouncing, sending me jostling.

  I grabbed another pillow and threw it but was thwarted again. “I hate you.”

  “Liar.”

  She giggled and stopped jumping, lying down next to me. Her face softened, her smile cajoling. “Seriously, though, let’s go do something.”

  I pouted, curling up even tighter. “I don’t wanna.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Real matu
re.”

  “Everything sucks.”

  “Everything doesn’t suck,” she corrected. “Just one thing.”

  I groaned. “But that one thing really, really sucks. I don’t think he’s going to call me.”

  She didn’t answer right away. “Maybe not. Maybe so. You just have to wait and see.”

  “Waiting sucks too. Time sucks. Breaking up sucks. Everything sucks. See?”

  “It’s only been two days, Pen,” she said gently. “Give him a little more time.”

  “He had his meeting. I wonder how it went. I wonder if he’s okay.” I paused. “I should call him.”

  She gave me a look.

  “Ugh, don’t look at me like that. Are you gonna slap my phone out of my hand again if I try?”

  “Maybe.”

  I groaned. “But I can’t call him. You’re right. I’m trying to respect his space.” My face bent under the weight of my conflict. “God, can’t you just go sleep with Jude to find out what’s going on over there?”

  “Ha, ha.” She pulled my last pillow out from under my head and pressed it over my face like she was going to suffocate me.

  We laughed for a second, and then I groaned again. “This sucks.”

  “All right, you win. Everything sucks.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But this is ridiculous.”

  My face went flat. “Thanks.”

  “What? It is, and you know it. Seriously, if I hear ‘Fade into You’ one more time, I’m going to open a vein. So let’s get you cleaned up and out of the house. Even if just for a minute. Even if just for tacos.”

  “I don’t want tacos.”

  One of her brows rose. “Wow. You really are fucked up.”

  “Told you.”

  “Okay, then call him.”

  “Oh, so now you’ll let me call him?” I huffed. “I can’t, and you know it. I literally just said that.”

  “I know, and I take it back. I’m changing my tune since my old tune is worn out, and you clearly don’t want to hear it. If you want to talk to him, call him.”

  “He said he didn’t have time to ‘deal’ right now.” I made air quotes with one hand.

  “I mean, I guess you can’t really blame him.”

  “I don’t,” I said sadly. “I don’t blame him at all. I blame me. I’m the one who did this. He’s right; I kept all my feelings to myself, and this was the result. I hurt him, Ronnie. I don’t even know if I deserve to have him back. So I’m at an emotional impasse.”

  She watched me for a second. “All right, then how about going back?” Somewhere in her twinkling eyes, I thought she might be baiting me.

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s get Old Penny back. The girl who doesn’t do relationships because of exactly this.”

  A tiny sliver of hope shone on me as she continued.

  “You’re like this about guys because you don’t want to get hurt. You just lived through a self-fulfilling prophecy. So, why not adopt the old rule again? Revive it. Bring it back from the dead.”

  I smiled for the first time in days as I relit the pilot light in my heart. “Yes. Yes! Old Penny is fucking smart. Feelings are dumb and stupid and ruin lives. I was so much happier when I had the rule and boundaries. You’re right. I can’t believe you’re actually right. We should mark the calendar.”

  She laughed and pinched me in the arm. “Okay, so let’s go out and prove how smart Old Penny is. We can go to Diesel and see Cody. Remember Cody? He always puts you in a good mood.”

  I sighed dreamily. “How could I forget? That’s no man. That’s a god, covered in tattoos. And he has that hair.”

  “Gah, that hair. That hair should have its own Tumblr.”

  I laughed, feeling less like my heart was going to fall out of my chest.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. You can get back on the horse. Or the Cody. Whatever.”

  I laughed, but my insides knotted up at the thought of riding anybody but Bodie. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  She smiled and booped my nose. “Atta girl. It’s gonna be okay, Pen,” she said so softly and sincerely that I actually believed her.

  * * *

  My liner was winged, my heels were high, my shorts were short, and my mood was about as sturdy as piecrust — a thin, golden buttery façade over the gooey, messy, blood-red cherry filling. But I found myself strutting into that bar on a mission that felt awfully real even if it was bullshit.

  Diesel was packed wall-to-wall with people. Everything in the bar was metal and brick and leather, dark and inky. The light fixtures were made of machine parts with naked bulbs and glowing filaments, and the bar itself was black brushed metal and my destination from the second we walked in the door.

  We wormed our way up to the bar with smiles and arm touches, parting the crowd like Moses. Veronica pushed me in front, and I squeezed in between a couple of guys to lean on the bar, rack on display.

  I spotted Cody at the other end of the bar, and he glanced at me and away before looking back to me with a whip of his head that was so fast, he might have sprained something. A slow smile spread across his face, and he jerked his chin at me in greeting.

  Cody was one of those gritty, dirty tattooed types with the irreverent beard and hair a little too long, pushed back from his face with ruts from his fingers. The gauges in his ears were just big enough to be big without being obscene, and he not only had his nostril and septum pierced, but he also had snakebites — two rings on his bottom lip where, if he were a rattlesnake, his fangs would rest.

  I’d had a boner for Cody since the first time I ever laid eyes on him, but he’d always had a girlfriend. I might love me some dick, but I’d never knowingly hook up with a guy with a girlfriend, so we’d kept it to flirting, but he was the number one reason why we used to come to Diesel. And when he made his way over, my insides went ballistic because:

  1. He was gorgeous.

  2. His eyes pinned me to the spot.

  3. He wasn’t Bodie, and him even looking at me like he was made me feel nineteen ways to wrong.

  Cody leaned on the bar right across from me, ignoring everyone around me who’d been waiting.

  “Damn, it’s good to see you, Penny. Where the hell have you been?”

  The guy next to me huffed and slapped a hand on the bar. “What the fuck, man? We’ve all been waiting longer than her.”

  Cody’s eyes went hard as he glared at the guy. “You don’t let a girl like this stand at the bar without giving her your full attention. And if you want a drink the rest of the night, I suggest you shut the fuck up and wait until I address you.”

  The guy pointed at Cody. “This is fucked up. Fuck this place!” And with that eloquent goodbye, he turned around and left.

  Cody turned back to me, his gaze smoldering again. “Double Patrón, chilled?”

  I smiled as discomfort twisted around in my stomach like snakes. “You remembered.”

  “Psh. You’re impossible to forget, Pen,” he said with a smirk, leaning a little closer. “Lean over.”

  I did, against my better judgment, and when I was half-bent over the bar, he leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear.

  “Alley-oop,” he said softly as he grabbed me by the waist and pulled.

  I took the cue and lifted myself as he helped me onto the bar. I spun around on my butt until my legs were on his side of the counter and my feet dangled just outside the shelves of liquor and glasses tucked under the bar top.

  My heart thundered its warning as I hung onto the edge and crossed my legs, locking my elbows and straightening my back. I felt like a pinup girl, and was pretty sure every eyeball in the bar was on me. A month ago, I would have been in hog heaven. In that moment, I’d rather be in a pig pen.

  Cody kept on smirking, pouring well more than two shots of Patrón into a shaker. “How’ve you been? It’s been too long since you’ve been in.”

  “Oh, I’ve been good. Just surviving.” Surviving Bodie was the
rest of that sentence, but, color me crazy, it seemed like the wrong thing to say in the moment. “How about you?”

  He shook up my drink with his eyes dragging a path from my heels to the hem of my shorts, which were regrettably short. Sitting on a bar might sound sexy and brash and cavalier, but the truth was that it was sticky as fuck. I just hoped there was no grenadine. All I needed was a cherry stain on my ass to end the week on a high note.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to come in. Sheila and I broke up.”

  My mouth popped open, and I blinked, noticing that he was shaking that shaker at his waist like he was pumping his dick.

  “You’re kidding.” I had no idea what else to say.

  He shook his head, not looking sad in the slightest, probably because he had me sitting on the bar like a trophy. “It’s been over for a long time. Plus, I’ve had my sights set somewhere else.”

  Cody popped the top of the shaker and poured my drink, hooking a lime on the edge of the glass before handing it over. I took a sip, hands on my drink as he bracketed my crossed legs with his arms.

  I’d been waiting for this moment for months, and here it was. The filthy, hot, tattooed, pierced bartender of my dreams had literally picked me up and set me on the bar to tell me he wanted to bang me. A month ago, I would have climbed him like a jungle gym. But when he ran his hand down the curve of my calf, I laughed awkwardly and chased his hand with my own, redirecting it.

  “Straight to the point, huh, Cody?” I said, hoping I sounded cool. And then I swiveled around on the bar and hopped down, praying for that millisecond I wasn’t going to break my ankle. I didn’t, thankfully. “I’ll see you later,” I said over my shoulder with a smile.

  “I sure hope so,” he called after me as the crowd swallowed me.

  My smile fell faster than a GTO hits sixty, and I stomped my way around the bar, scanning for Veronica.

  I found her at a table. She was on her phone, texting so intently that she didn’t even see me stalk up.

  “Well, this is a fucking disaster,” I shot and took a heavy pull of tequila. Too heavy. My face pinched up, and I shook my head to set it back to rights.