Chapter Text
Friday night was supposed to be easy. The kind of loud, golden evening that belonged to the upperclassmen—hazy porch lights, music spilling through open windows, bodies packed into the pool. Penelope spent far too long deciding what to wear and even longer pretending she hadn’t. She told herself she didn’t care. It wasn’t like she and Colin Bridgerton were officially anything. They never posted each other on socials. Never labeled it. But they had been orbiting each other for months—making out in quiet corners, walking home together, studying side by side, his hand slipping into hers without asking.
That morning, she had texted him just to see if he would reply.
Still good for tonight?
His answer came almost instantly.
Yeah, of course.
She smiled at her phone. Warmed at it. Of course means he wanted to be there. He wanted her to be there. Penelope let herself believe that but she shouldn’t have. Case and point: earlier that day, she had carelessly wandered toward the senior lockers, nerves fluttering in her stomach. She felt slightly ridiculous about it—wanting to surprise him, maybe steal a quick kiss before anyone noticed. She heard his laugh before she saw him so she hid behind a locker door.
Will Mondrich’s voice rang out first. “Bridgerton, tell us! What’s your decision? You coming stag tonight or what?”
Colin sighed, “You know I would’ve gone stag with you lot, but she’s already going, so… might as well.”
The words weren’t venomous to Penelope, who heard it clearly. They weren’t loud as well. They were worse.
“Are you even together, Bridgerton? Be honest with us,” someone pressed.
Colin didn’t answer. He just changed the subject. "I've been honest with each and everyone of you, as far as I know."
"I smell a liar a mile away," someone snorted.
"Oh shut it!"
Might as well. The phrase landed like a quiet demotion. She imagined something softer. Something certain that came from him. Instead, she got uncertainty wrapped in a joke and it stung. Real hard.
Penelope stepped back before they could see her, face composed, throat tight. She walked away carefully, like if she moved too fast something inside her might crack.
Back home, she stared at the ceiling, replaying not just the words but his tone—the ease of it, the absence of hesitation, the way he did not rush to correct anyone. She didn’t know what she felt exactly. Insulted? Used? Taken for granted? Maybe all of it at once... sadly by the same boy she was sharing intimacies with all these months.
The Mondrich estate was already vibrating when Penelope arrived. Music thudded through the walls, bass heavy enough to rattle the porch railing. She paused just inside the doorway, steadying her breathing. Then, she saw him. Colin was laughing, head tipped back slightly, one hand clapped against Will’s shoulder. He looked effortless and exactly where he was meant to be. As if sensing her, his gaze lifted and locked onto hers. For a second, the noise dimmed. There it is. That look. Finally. Recognition. Warmth. The softness that was always theirs. His smile curved and he started toward her. Immediately, Will grabbed his sleeve and said something that sent Colin hesitating. He turned back and the circle closed around him again.
Penelope stayed where she was. He’ll come over. He always did.
Right on cue, someone swept beside her, all sharp energy and commentary. “Pen! You made it! I thought you’d skip this party for a romcom once again.”
“I wish but my mum practically pushed me out of the house,” she replied lightly, though her eyes never left Colin. He glanced over again, catching her watching. Come here. Her eyes told him. He leaned back into his friends, running a hand through his hair in that careless way that always made her stomach flip. Someone handed him another drink and he accepted it quickly.
Eloise tugged her best friend toward the drinks table. “It's time to hydrate, Pen. Socially.”
Penelope took a cup. She didn’t usually drink much—she didn’t like the taste —but tonight the burn felt appropriate. The first sip was sharp and sugary, stinging her throat.
Across the room, Colin watched her take another swallow. Then, a third.
He’ll come now. He’ll see and come.
He didn’t.
A guy Penelope barely knew leaned over with an easy grin. “Featherington! Finally, I see you in our senior parties!"
"You expected me?"
The question sounded absurd to the boy. "We all did! And I see you need a refill!”
Her instinct was to refuse. Instead, she glanced at Colin to find that he wasn’t looking.
“Sure,” she said.
Her cup filled higher this time and welcomed the warm liquid that touched her throat.
Another boy, sitting from the couch raised his cup toward her. “You're that freshman chick, right?”
"Chick?" Penelope looked at her, then at Eloise as if to validate what he had indeed called her.
"Yeah, the hottie who's friends with Bridgerton!"
"That Bridgerton..." Eloise blinked. "would be me?"
"I guess," Penelope raised her glass, clinked plastic with Eloise and drank again.
This time, Colin’s gaze snapped back to her.
Are you watching? Well, he was.
So, she tipped her head back and drained it. All of it. The burn felt like control. Like she was doing something instead of waiting. She could feel her cheeks flush and her limbs loosen. The world felt somewhat easier to stand in—or maybe it just got blurrier. Penelope really wanted Colin to come over. To cut through the crowd. To take the cup from her hand and say enough in that low voice he used when he was serious about things. She wanted to be chosen loudly. Instead, he stayed where he was. Shit.
A minute later, a girl stumbled into Colin from behind, unsteady and giggling. He caught her instinctively, hand landing at her waist to steady her.
“Oh my God, Colin, I'm so...sorry! I didn't mean...”
“No worries,” he said easily.
Her hand pressed briefly to his chest as she righted herself. His fingers lingered a fraction too long before he stepped back. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t intimate. But Penelope had seen the interaction and it wasn't pretty in her eyes. From where she stood—seven drinks in and still painfully aware—it looked like he wanted to be there more than he ever did beside her.
Might—as—well.
Those three words slid back in her consciousness.
Eloise followed her gaze across the room, eyes narrowing slightly. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I’m convinced my brother is secretly dating someone.”
Penelope’s heart stuttered. “What?”
“I mean, he’s been acting strange lately. Don't you think?” Eloise replied, folding her arms.
“Strange? How so?” Penelope asked, trying to keep her voice even. She had wanted to tell her best friend for weeks—that she and Colin were acting more than just friends, that there had been late-night walks and tangled hands and kisses that blurred lines they never meant to cross. She had rehearsed the confession in her head more than once. Maybe now was the time. Or maybe it wasn’t. Because, he was clearly rejecting her in every possible way. Maybe she didn’t need to say anything anymore. Maybe she could spare Eloise from ever knowing they had crossed that boundary and built something fragile in the space between friendship and something else. "What makes you think that?"
Eloise shrugged. “Hmmmm, then again, if he really did have a girl, you’d think he’d parade her around at a party like this. After all, Colin Bridgerton does not do subtle.”
You would think. Penelope swallowed, the alcohol buzzing faintly beneath her skin.
“Unless,” Eloise added lightly.
“Unless what?” Penelope asked.
Eloise glanced at her, almost teasing. “Unless she’s just an option. He is a senior and that means, he's graduating this year! Why be with someone at all?”
Option. The word hit harder than the drinks. Penelope inhaled slowly, eyes drifting back to him. Colin, who was laughing again, had his head thrown back, completely unaware of the way she was unraveling in plain sight. She didn’t want to be dramatic. She didn’t want to be needy. She just wanted him to look at her. If I’m optional… Her grip tightened around the flimsy plastic cup. Then, I will become unforgettable...or maybe forgetful. She wasn't sure which sounded more attractive at the moment.
Half an hour passed and at first, Colin had kept track of Penelope easily...the flash of red hair near the drinks table, the way she hovered by Eloise, the way she kept glancing at him. He really wanted to talk to her, say hello and maybe tug her away but he got himself pulled into conversation after conversation. Every time he looked up, he searched for her automatically. Every time, he caught only a glimpse of her. Eventually, he realized he couldn’t see her at all. He told himself she was fine. She was probably with his sister and somewhere he couldn’t see from where he stood. Then, he caught it—something red near the pool area. Just the top of her head. He frowned. Why was she that close to the edge? He started to move. But, it was too late.
Two seniors were shoving each other near the diving board, half-joking, half-competing in that careless way boys did when they forgot their size and strength. Someone shouted at them to knock it off. Someone else laughed. One of them stumbled backward, off-balance, his arm flinging out blindly in a desperate attempt to steady himself. Unfortunately, it connected with Penelope.
Colin didn’t register the impact in detail—just the sharp snap of her head and the way her body shifted wrong, unnaturally. The sound cracked through the air as her heel slipped on the slick tile, skidding over the thin sheen of water near the edge of the pool. She windmilled for balance and for one suspended, breathless second, she tilted backward, fairy lights spinning wildly above her in fractured halos. Instantaneously, she was gone and the splash that followed was wrong and everyone heard it.
“Penelope!”
For half a heartbeat, everything inside Colin stopped. So, he shoved Will out of the way without looking, sprinted across the wet tile and he dove into the water without hesitation. Thankfully, he was able to reach her in seconds, wrapping one arm tightly around her waist. “Help me!” he shouted, his voice cracking.
Will and Eloise were already at the edge, grabbing for Penelope's arms. Together, they hauled her out. Water streamed from her hair. Her dress clung to her skin. Her eyes were half-lidded and unfocused.
“Oh my God—” Eloise cried.
“Move back!” Colin dropped to his knees beside her, hands shaking uncontrollably. He brushed wet curls away from her face. “Pen? Penelope? Can you hear me? Answer me if you can hear me.”
Her chest wasn’t rising properly. Fear detonated in his bloodstream. Please breathe. He pressed his mouth to hers. Once. Pulled back. Twice. Counted under his breath, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might split him open. “Come on,” he whispered desperately. “Come on.”
On the third attempt, her body jerked and she sputtered violently, coughing up water as she rolled onto her side.
“Someone call the ambulance!”
Colin sagged forward in relief for a split second before leaning over her again, one hand gripping hers. “Pen, you’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
Her eyes fluttered open slowly as the world returned in fragments. And he hovered above her, eyes wide, terrified and relieved. For a second, something inside her softened for he looked like he had almost lost her.
Might as well.
The nasty words slid back in, sharp and steady.
You would’ve gone stag.
She looked at him fully now and made her decision. Her brow furrowed faintly, confusion settling carefully across her expression. “What, what happened?”
“You were hit on the head,” he said, voice unsteady now. “and then you fell into the water.” Colin’s hand was still wrapped around Penelope’s.
"Colin, you can let go now."
"Why?"
"People might misunderstand."
"What?" His eyes turned to his hands and hers. "But we..."
Soon, the paramedics rushed toward them with a stretcher. Eloise launched into a rapid explanation. “She hit her head and fell unconscious in the pool. My brother had to well—” Her voice faltered for half a second. “He had to resuscitate her.”
One by one, the paramedics knelt beside Penelope, their voices calm and practiced despite the chaos around them. “Miss, can you tell me your name?”
“Penelope Featherington,” she answered, her voice faint but steady.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
“Do you know where you are?”
“Will Mondrich’s party.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
“I think I got hit?”
One paramedic glanced toward Colin, “This boy beside you. Can you tell me his name?”
Penelope replied, “Colin... Colin Bridgerton."
“Is he your boyfriend?”
There was the slightest pause.
“No, of course not,” she said softly. “We’re just friends.”
Colin felt it deep in his chest, sharp and immediate. Just friends. Her words landed like a physical blow. “Wait—” he stammered, panic creeping into his voice. “I’m sorry, but I think there’s some misunderstanding. She and I are—”
But the paramedics were already moving, easing her carefully onto the stretcher. Straps were secured across her torso. A light was flashed into her eyes. A brace was fitted around her neck.
"Sir," Colin stood up and had a changed expression on his face.
An older paramedic looked up at Colin. “Are you a family member? We need someone to come with us to the hospital.”
He faltered. “I mean— of course I can—”
“I’m her best friend,” Eloise cut in quickly, stepping forward. “I can call her mum on the way to the hospital.”
The paramedic nodded. “All right. You can come."
"What about me?" Colin asked.
"I'm sorry sir, but I need everyone else to step back so we can move her out.”
It just happened too fast. He thought he stood a chance in explaining things but it was as if his mouth shut as they wheeled Penelope past him. He really wanted to explain. To correct it. To say something that would undo the damage of two quiet words. Just friends. But, in a blur of movement, the stretcher rolled through the gate and into the waiting ambulance. There was finality as the doors slammed shut with a hollow metallic thud.
Red lights washed over Colin's face as the vehicle pulled away. He couldn’t speak. He just stood there in the wreckage of the party, the echo of the question looping mercilessly in his head.
Is he your boyfriend?
...
...
...
No.
...
...
...
We’re just friends.
Inside the moving vehicle, Eloise gripped her best friend's hand tightly. “Pen,” she leaned closer as the sirens wailed around them. “How are you feeling now?”
“Like I almost drowned,” Penelope admitted, her voice hoarse and small.
“Well, you very nearly did,” Eloise said. “Thank goodness Colin jumped in after you. He didn’t even hesitate.”
"Did he?"
"He so very well did! You don't remember anything, do you?"
"I guess..." Penelope stared up at the ceiling of the moving vehicle. What had she done? She had erased their relationship just like that. But were they really in a relationship when it had all been a secret? How long can she keep this up? Truly, not forever. Maybe she'll keep it up, long enough to teach him a lesson or long enough to make him feel her absence. If anyone questioned it, she could always blame the way she hit her head since memory lapses happened with head injuries.
Yes, it's a safe plan. One that she had hoped would yield some changes. Maybe— just maybe—when he's faced with losing her completely, Colin could finally say it out loud and admit that she wasn’t convenient. She wasn’t optional. She wasn’t someone he simply “might as well” show up with.
She, Penelope Featherington, is someone worth choosing.
Silently, she forced her eyes shut and made herself a promise. Whatever happened next—however confused and hurt he looked—one thing was certain: she will not be the first one to break.