PENNY.
Phone calls. Who knew phone calls were so intense? Penny thought about what Sam had told her. About Brandi Rose. The trailer. Penny didn’t know anyone who had grown up in a trailer. It was clueless, but she’d assumed she and Celeste were on the poorer side of the spectrum. Where Penny wore her Koreanness and her weirdness on the outside, you’d never guess that Sam wasn’t in the same tax bracket as everyone else.
Sam trusted her. That was a big deal. Progress had been made. Not that she and Sam were trying to get anywhere specific. Or that phone calls necessarily led to hand-holding, which led to make-outs and dates and marriage and kids, but somewhere, somehow, a needle had been moved. Sam really trusted her, and she felt lucky for it.
They were getting closer. It was the best feeling in the world.
With Sam’s call, it was as if the best part of her day had already happened. As Penny showered, she wondered if her mother would see a change in her, if she appeared more worldly or something. Then again, Penny used to stare at her mom, silent-screaming about the bad things that had happened, and Celeste never got a clue.
She wiped down the foggy mirror. Penny never looked the way she thought she did in her head, like how your recorded voice sounds positively vile when you hear it out loud. She applied some of her mom’s lipstick and smiled as if she were posing for a picture. Was this her new life? Would she and Sam be calling each other now? She loved the interface—how they could tell each other anything on text, from silly trivial things to deep truths—and hoped that part would still happen. She’d bought an app that saved a copy of everything they’d said. Phone calls though . . . Oh man. They were something else. So heart-squishingly intimate. She could almost feel his breath when he laughed. Penny wished she could stay in that call forever.
“Is she tiny like you? Does she dress cool or super mommish?” Jude was dying to meet Celeste, so they rode the elevator down to the lobby together. It was a source of great curiosity that while Jude’s parents were over in California and Mallory’s mom had flown in twice from Chicago expressly to decorate her daughter’s dorm room, Penny’s mom, who at an hour away by car, remained a mystery.
Celeste was both easy and hard to explain. Penny thought about her first day of kindergarten. Even at a young age, she was mortified that her mom had required so much extra face time from her teacher, Ms. Esposito.
She recalled the way her teacher smiled with eyes widened over her mom’s shoulder at the other parents. The way that she—despite being younger than her—patted Celeste on the arm as she sniffled. None of the other parents were crying. Not to mention how Celeste had worn these completely incorrect tie-dyed tennis shorts and had dyed her socks to match. The worst was during recess when Penny saw her mom standing outside the school gates. Spying on her. She’d spotted her mom’s frothy permed hairdo crouching conspicuously behind the bus stop. At one point Celeste bought a Popsicle and sat on the bus bench to eat it, as if she’d forgotten what she was doing there in the first place.
“She’s fun,” said Penny. “We’re nothing alike. Everybody loves her.”
As if on cue, Celeste arrived. In white jeans, blinding-white sneaker-heels, a white tank top with silver writing on it, and gobs of silver jewelry. It wasn’t Celeste’s fault that she resembled a reality-show stage mom with questionable judgment straight from central casting.
“Oooooh!” said Jude in a tone that implied that it finally made sense. “Your mom’s hot.”
“Yep,” said Penny.
“Explains a lot.”
“Yep.”
“Mom!” Penny called out.
“P!” Celeste swiveled around and ran toward her with her arms outstretched for a bear hug. Penny laughed.
Her mom stepped back for a quick audit of her daughter’s appearance.
“Awww, baby. You look terrific.”
“You too, Mom.” She really did.
“Hi, Mrs. Lee.” Jude smiled.
“Come here.” Celeste pulled her in for a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Celeste was a smooth liar.
“And, actually, I’m Mizzzzz Yoon,” she said. “Lee’s Penny’s dad’s name. Unmarried, never was. Anyway, call me Celeste.”
“Sure thing, Celeste,” said Jude, smiling. “And I know you haven’t heard squat about me because I know absolutely nothing about you.” Jude linked her arms with Celeste, and the two walked ahead to the elevator. “Tell me everything. Penny’s a regular Fort Knox.”
Penny followed behind them.
Celeste and Jude chatted easily. Neither of them had inside voices, and Penny was relieved that they weren’t sharing the elevator ride with anyone else.
“So, Mom,” said Penny. “You’re here. What do you want to do?”
“I want to go shopping for my birthday.” Celeste smiled at Jude. “I’m turning the big four-oh in four traumatizing weeks.”
“Scorpio?” asked Jude.
“Saggi cusp!”
“Aries!” said Jude.
“Omigod, I’m Aries rising!”
Celeste and Jude high-fived.
Penny realized the astonishing truth that she’d simply given up one crazy roommate for another. She checked her phone. No new messages.
She unlocked the door to their bedroom and invited her mother in. “This is us.”
Jude’s side was covered in photographs, posters, various burnt-orange UT paraphernalia, beer bottle labels stuck to the wall, and stuffed animals.
On Penny’s side there was nothing but a small framed picture of her and her mother that had been packed inside her suitcase until forty minutes earlier. Penny was glad she’d remembered to dig it out and place it on the desk.
“Let me guess which side is yours!” Celeste exclaimed.
• • •
After an eyebrow threading, a pair of jeans for Jude, a new caftan for Celeste, and an Egon Schiele postcard book for Penny’s secret shrine dedicated to pining for Sam, the girls were peckish.
“What do you want? Thai? Indian? Vegan New-American?” Jude rattled off suggestions while they piled their purchases into Celeste’s hybrid wagon.
“I need a coffee before we do anything else,” said Celeste, slamming the trunk.
Penny didn’t hear it so much as she watched Jude’s mouth move in slow motion: “Coffee? I know exactly where.” Jude jumped into shotgun.
Shitshitshitshitshit.
Up until this point, Penny had been on her best behavior. She tried on everything Celeste had badgered her into. She’d held a Zen master’s peace in her heart and allowed Jude and Celeste to tease her habits, how she only ever wore black and never showed her figure. Penny understood that it was great that her roommate and her mom were getting along even if the two of them together were a vaudeville act.
“There’s a great place close to the dorm,” said Jude. “I’ll navigate.”
Penny felt her soul escape her body.
“Coffee? What? Don’t be crazy, Mom. You’ll be up all night,” said Penny, getting into the backseat with increasing hysteria. “Let’s drop everything off at the room first. I’m bushed.”
“Penny,” said Jude. “Your mom is almost forty. I’m sure she can handle a midafternoon latte. So take a left here,” she directed.
Penny’s throat tightened. She took inventory of what was happening around her.
Possible measures to derail a horribly inopportune Sam encounter:
1. Crap. She had nothing.
“So, my uncle works at this place,” continued Jude. They turned onto the Drag.
“Ooooh, is he cute?” asked Celeste. Penny was going to be sick.
She pulled out her phone to check her appearance. Her sunblock had turned into a crumbly powder on her forehead. She licked her fingers and desperately tried to smooth it in. Plus, as luck would have it, Penny hadn’t done laundry in two months and was dressed in ratty black leggings and a Willie Nelson T-shirt that read HAVE A WILLIE NICE DAY. It was 2XL and she’d got it six years ago at a Buc-ees’ truck stop. She’d had an outfit planned on the off chance that she’d see Sam again. It involved a blazer and some ankle boots with a heel. Maybe she’d get a blowout. That was her fantasy.
This was not how she wanted to see him after their morning call.
Penny breathed deep. She considered texting Sam a warning, except what would she even say? When Celeste killed the engine at a parking meter a block away, Penny wanted to cry.
“Wait. Hold on,” she blurted.
Penny pulled out her lipstick.
“Oh, honey,” said Celeste. “I knew you’d love it.”