You Pick: Rose

"I printed out some colleges," Penny says, handing me a stapled pack of papers. "The first one is Washington University in St. Louis. They have Photography and Art History for you, Microbiology and Fashion Design for me, and Computer Science and Computer Engineering for Matt." She smiles, proud of her efforts. "They have Painting as well, if Ben's interested."

"Thanks! We haven't really talked about going to college together. Have you and AJ?"

She shakes her head. "It's too soon for that kind of talk."

"Exactly." I scan through the list. Confused, I hold up the packet. "Are there any nursing programs in this list?"

"You don't want to do photography?"

I set down the stack, spreading out on my bed. "I don't know, maybe as a minor."

"Alright then, I'll keep looking."

I give a thumbs up.

"Thanks for taking out the time to alphabetize and print these, Penny." She waves a hand dismissively. "It was no problem! I jammed my stapler and ran out of ink, but don't mention it."

"I won't."

She knocks me upside the head with a pillow, her favorite weapon.

"I'm kidding! THANK YOU!"

She tosses it aside, fixing her hair in the mirror. "I was feeling a little unappreciated is all," she says, when I call her crazy. "Anyways, homecoming is less than two weeks away. When do you want to go shopping?"

"I'm free whenever." I tangle myself into the sheets. "But, onto more pressing matters. Drum line, or Dirty Dancing?"

She drops to the floor. Crawling like Baby, she sings the iconic song, Love Is Strange.

I pass the blow pops, and we binge watch our favorite films.

~

"Really? You're still mad?" Ben asks when I brush passed him in the hallway.

We're headed to Art class. I ignore his question, and he trails behind.

There's a grin in his voice. "Walk away, I don't mind. The view isn't so bad."

I roll my eyes. In class, he follows me to the table that we share with two other students. I didn't think about future arguments when we chose to be in the same group.

A whiff of his familiar cologne makes me glance out of my peripheral. He's in his usual button up and slacks, like he's ready to board a yacht or something. Most guys here dress in boating shirts and khakis.

"I'm mad at you," I say, finally.

The two students lift up their heads from their phones, until they realize that I'm not talking to them.

The chemical fumed classroom looks like an organized mess at first glance. Abstract art clutters the walls, and old paint splashes decorate the desks. The room is always dim. If I didn't love art, this would be the class that I'd fall asleep in.

"How many more times can I apologize?"

"I don't want you to apologize. You felt how you felt." I dismiss him with a hand. "That's what hurts the most."

"Your artwork can run circles around mine. Happy?" He pulls out his colored pencils.

I smile, not bothering to hide my pettiness. "You're forgiven."

He shakes his head. "So what colors should we wear to homecoming?"

He asked me to go with him as soon as they hung the posters around school.

"Whichever is your favorite," I say.

"I don't do favorite colors, but you'd look great in maroon." He pauses. "Yeah, something red with lace."

They way he says it sets fire to my cheeks. The two smile into their laps, doing a terrible job at pretending not to hear.

"Bennn!" I hide my blushing face with a hand.

"What?" He shrugs. "You asked."