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The soft glow of afternoon light was pleasant as Penny watered the plants on the rooftop. A cool breeze had started to pick up, and it was so peaceful and quiet up on the roof. Plus, from the top of MU, she could see the entire campus, and all the tiny little people below as they went about their lives.
Sometimes, Penny would come up here during school hours. It was like her special, personal little space, since no one came up to the rooftop aside from other members of the gardening committee.
She inhaled deeply, humming a tune as she moved to the last garden bed and checked the plants, before giving each their proper amount of water.
When she was done, she took one last look, before going down to the lecture halls.
MU was big on greenery. The campus was filled with freshly-cut grass, and trees and flowers of different kinds.
The hallways upstairs and some of the lecture halls had plants too - big leafy ones that didn’t need watering too often. Whenever she had the time, Penny would water them herself, since she already came to water the garden pretty regularly.
It was a comfortable little schedule she had: water the garden, check the halls and classroom, close any windows that were left open, and then leave to continue her day.
It was definitely mundane, but Penny found that she enjoyed the simplicity of it all.
Penny often did these small things around campus.
Watering all the plants, making sure the windows are closed and locked, putting away club stuff, lending people extra pens and her small stapler. Things like that.
She does it all with a soft smile, never expecting anything in return for her continuous small acts of kindness.
She doesn’t think anyone would notice - she doesn’t expect them to.
And most people didn’t, which is to be expected. With all the hustle and bustle of college life, you tend to miss the small things.
Penny didn’t mind.
She didn’t do it for validation. She did it for herself.
It made her feel good, like she was having a positive influence on MU, even if it was small.
But someone does notice.
Denver notices.
It first started when he was studying at the library, as usual.
Nothing could break him out of his intense study focus, but he’s noticed Penny often at the library too.
She comes to read, but mostly, he glimpses her watering the plants by the entrance and having friendly conversation with the librarians.
He came to realize that she also has some sort of set schedule.
On afternoons, three days apart, Penny comes in with a watering can, sometimes with some sort of food or coffee as a gift for the librarians.
She waters the plants in the library, picks a small book to borrow, and spends around half an hour catching up with the librarians before getting her watering can and leaving.
She never missed a day.
He could respect that.
As Denver began to notice this, he also began to notice other things that had slipped his mind before.
Like the fact that Penny was often in empty classrooms, checking windows and watering plants again and wiping excess markers off the whiteboards.
Or that she often brings some sort of small dessert to classes or break times to share with people.
Or that she carries around her pencil case in her little tote bag in case anyone needs anything.
Or that she always greets people she’s friendly with, and she often has a smile for you even if she isn’t quite familiar with you.
Denver is tired of everyone and everything.
He finds it fascinating how Penny can carry so much kindness and warmth for others without any strings attached.
He only knew her from the coffee shop and the fact that she’s Tanya’s younger sister.
The work of a barista looks incredibly irritating and stressful, but Penny seems to enjoy it.
One day, he sees her watering the plants by the windowsill again as he’s walking by.
Her continuous small pieces of labour are shown in the healthy, thriving green plants. Denver wasn’t a decor person, but even he could notice how it made the classroom look more alive.
He tried to avoid conversation whenever possible - it disrupted his schedule - but he felt like he needed to say something.
“You do this often. Watering the plants.”
Penny jumps a bit, not expecting anyone else at this time, let alone to be actually noticed, but she quickly regains her composure and offers a shy smile.
“Yeah! I’m part of the gardening committee, so I thought I might as well water these ones too.”
Denver nods, and the conversation stills for a moment.
He could honestly end the conversation there and leave - he was already a bit off-schedule - but for some reason, he continued.
“How long have you been doing this for?”
“Um…since I joined the gardening committee, I guess. Around the middle of my freshman year?”
“I thought the teachers often did this kind of stuff?”
It never even crossed his mind before, about who watered the plants in the classroom.
“They do! I just like to help out if I can, y’know. I have the time, and my mom taught me that a little bit goes a long way.”
Denver nods again.
“That’s noble.”
Penny blushes a bit, shaking her head.
“Oh no, it’s really nothing.”
But her smile is wider.
Denver thinks it lights up the room, as cliché as it sounds.
“I’ve been doing this kind of stuff for a while now. Tanya’s my inspiration.”
Normally, Denver would hate when people started talking about things on their own as if they expected him to continue the conversation, but this time, he didn’t mind too much.
“She’s Student Council President, and she does a lot for the school! Organizing events, making sure things run smoothly - stuff like that. She helps everyone on campus with her position, and…I want to do something like that too.
I’d like to help other people, but on a smaller scale. I want to do enough to make a positive difference, but sticking small is fine. I don’t like too much attention, so this is the perfect spot for me.”
Denver understands that a bit.
Not everything you do needs to be known by other people.
The most satisfactory things are done when it’s only you who can acknowledge it.
“Mn. I’d say you’re doing a lot of good for what it is, Penelope.”
Penny smiled some more, and she looked a little shy, but pleased.
“You can call me Penny! Everyone calls me that.”
Denver wasn’t one for nicknames.
Calling someone their full first name was the respectful thing to do, and nicknames always sounded wrong when they came out of his mouth.
Still, maybe this would be an exception.
“Alright then, Penny.”
He didn’t dislike this particular nickname.
They parted ways after that.
After all, Denver still needed to stick to his schedule, and he had to make up for his behind time.
Penny replays the moment in her head when she gets back to her dorm, hugging Mr. Pebbles against her chest.
She never thought people would notice her.
There isn’t much to really recognize, after all. If anything, it made getting around really easy.
But someone did notice her.
And…Penny finds out that it makes her feel good.
Having her efforts recognized by someone, even if it was just brief. It felt…better than she thought it would.
It made her feel nice.
Appreciated.
The next day, Penny arrived on time to water the plants.
She followed her schedule, watering the garden before going down to the classrooms.
But something’s different.
Denver’s there too, with his surgical gloves and mask - and a small watering can in hand.
He looked pretty awkward, kind of just standing there, but Penny couldn’t help but smile.
“There’s a lot of classrooms. It’d be more efficient if you had assistance.”
Was his explanation, delivered as awkwardly as his stance.
Denver had no logical explanation for why he was doing this. It would put him behind schedule even more than yesterday.
But…he felt that same feeling again. Could he really just, not do anything?
Denver found that he had gained a sort of respect for Penny.
She did all these small, almost inconvenient things all on her own. Things no one even thinks of, let alone gives gratitude for.
She did it on campus, and she did it during her shifts at the coffee shop.
He still remembers the coffee she made for him.
She made it just the way he liked it - she remembered his orders - and she did it for absolutely no reason other than the fact that she just…wanted to.
She noticed him and decided to extend an act of kindness.
He felt obligated to do the same.
He hoped that he wasn’t intruding on her personal space with this offer, but Penny seemed delighted to have an extra hand helping her out.
Denver didn’t know much about how to specifically care for different plants aside from biological makeup, but Penny was happy to guide him on how much water each plant needs, explaining brief little facts in between.
Denver listens silently, but attentively, trying to commit these things to memory.
Penny’s rather excitable when she talks, but not in a loud way.
She’s shy and soft, but earnest - like she’s her own beam of sunlight - and Denver finds that he doesn’t mind that she talks throughout most of their watering.
It’s an unspoken thing, but Denver makes this a habit.
He puts Penny in his schedule.
Every time Penny has to water the plants, he’s there to help her.
Sometimes they talk, sometimes it’s a peacefully silent time together.
He finds Penny’s presence comforting, as does she with him.
Denver finds that he doesn’t regret losing some of his scheduled time because of her.
“I play chess, too. Although, I’m pretty average at it.”
It was another quiet afternoon, and the topics had turned to extracurriculars and hobbies.
Denver didn’t have any - his schedule didn’t have time for those, but Penny had a few.
A lot more than he was expecting.
She was in the gardening committee, did origami, crocheted and, apparently, also was in the chess club.
Penny manages a small smile, although she looks away a bit as if she were ashamed before continuing where she left off.
“I’m…pretty average at everything, actually.”
…
“There’s nothing wrong with being average. Average is just fine.”
Penny blinked. She didn’t think Denver would respond to that, since he’s been silent since this conversation started.
He’s generally very quiet.
Penny doesn’t mind, it’s just who he is, and she enjoys his company nonetheless.
“Thanks…it’s just…”
Penny trailed off, unsure about whether she should voice her thoughts or not.
“Everyone…seems to have something that makes them special, y’know? Something that makes them stand out as a person.
I…don’t think I have that.
I’m kind of bland - bland interests, bland favourite colour, bland major, bland personality. I’m…as average as it gets.”
There’s a lull of silence, and Penny is beginning to regret saying anything at all and is about to open her mouth to change the topic, when Denver eventually speaks up.
“I don’t think you’re bland. I think you’re just as special as anyone else in this god-forsaken school.”
Penny honestly thought he’d stop there, but he actually kept going.
“You’re so likeable it’s almost annoying. I’ve never met anyone who cares so earnestly for other people. You take care to do the small things people need but never notice. You have all these niche little hobbies you enjoy.
I don’t think you’re bland at all.
Your talents are subtle, but that doesn’t make them any less valid, Penny.”
Penny didn’t think he could talk that much, and she couldn’t help but smile at him, feeling absolutely touched by his words.
Denver looked back at her. He felt something different looking at her now.
He made her smile like that.
It felt good, for whatever reason. More than just good.
He felt the need to make her smile like that more often.
If no one was going to notice Penny, Denver didn’t care.
He would.
“Here, as a thank you.”
Denver took the small potted plant out of politeness, but it was clear he was skeptical.
“Peppermint. The smell is known to help with headaches. I know yours are pretty strong, so it might not be too much of a help, but I still wanted to give you something.”
Denver’s face was always a blank slate, especially with his surgical mask, but Penny noticed the way his eyes moved up slightly.
It was almost like he was smiling a bit under that mask of his.
Denver took his new plant to his room when he got back.
He reorganized everything again, so that the plant was by his windowsill, along with a picture of him and Beatrice, and another of his family.
It was easy to view.
Denver found himself thinking of Penny whenever he looked at the peppermint plant.
He wasn’t sure if it was actually going to help his headaches, considering all the different remedies he’s tried himself, but he found that he didn’t mind regardless.
Penny didn’t think anyone would really bother to acknowledge the small things she does.
But Denver did.
He did more than that.
He thanked her, he asked questions, he let her talk about her ‘boring’ interests and listened to her weird little plant facts.
Denver appreciated her.
Denver noticed.
Denver noticed her.