You're My Sol

Chapter 5

"Nice hustle!" Coach Taryn yelled as we passed her. We were on lap five and I was getting tired. I started to slow down when Marisol looked over at me.

"C'mon, Penny! You got this," Marisol said, encouraging me.

The corner of my lips twitched. She was being genuine. She was supporting me. It was almost like we were friends.

I sped up, falling in stride beside her.

* * *

By the end of practice, I was sweating buckets. Marisol and I were chugging water as Coach Taryn was talking to us about our first meet. It would be next week, and we needed to get our heads in the game if we wanted to place.

We all shouted words of affirmation, and then she grinned. "Great job out there kids, you've been working hard. Thanks for doing your best. See you tomorrow!"

Marisol and I started chatting as we got our stuff together. It had become a bit of a habit for us to talk during track. Honestly, she stopped annoying me. She was irritatingly perfect, but it didn't bother me as much as it once did.

"Hey Penny," Marisol said nonchalantly as she zipped up her bag. "Can I get your number?"

My face went red. "Uhh," I stammered. "Why?"

Marisol tilted her head at me. "Because we're friends, silly," she said, poking my forehead.

I giggled nervously. "Oh, sure." Something about Marisol made my stomach flutter.

I took out my phone and gave it to Marisol to put her number in. She handed me her phone and I started typing in my name. As soon as my thumb hit the screen, a bunch of notifications came through. People were blowing up her phone, eager to talk to her. I guess Marisol was really popular.

I tried to ignore the weird feeling in my gut and typed in my number. Under "name" I typed "Penelope." I stared at it for a minute. I clicked backspace, then fixed it.

Penny.

I handed her phone back to her. She looked down at it, then back at me, smirking. I looked away and whistled. We broke out into a fit of giggles.

"See, the name suits you. Better than Penelope, anyway," Marisol said. It was hard to disagree when the nickname was coming from her.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and we started taking our usual route towards home. We started in with our usual banter. I couldn't help but get distracted by Marisol's phone, which was dinging with messages.

"Uh, aren't you going to answer those?" I asked.

Marisol looked down at her phone. "No," she said, turning the ringer off.

"Why?" I asked.

"I'd rather talk to you," she said, shrugging. My face went beet red. No one had ever paid this much attention to me before. Then she put her phone in her bag and looked back towards me.

"So, what were you saying?"

And we jumped back into our regular conversation. Just as we reached her house, I thought of something I had been meaning to ask her.

"Marisol?"

"Yeah?" She said, getting out her keys.

"Why did you move here? If you liked San Diego that much?" I asked.

Marisol went rigid, something flashing in her eyes. "I have to get inside, sorry. I'll see you tomorrow," she said shortly, and ran up her driveway, slamming the door behind her.

Oh no. What did I do wrong? Obviously I hurt her. She didn't seem to mind talking about her old home before, though. What changed?

I pondered this as I walked into my house.

"Why are you like this?" My dad growled. I went stock still.

There were my parents, standing with their backs to me. My brother was in front of them. He didn't seem to notice me.

"It's not my fault! Just this once, I forgot. Okay? It's not a big deal--" Andrew said back.

"Not a big deal? It is a big deal! You're a senior! This year is the final year you have! You're applying to colleges--you have to think of your future!" My mom shouted.

I was still frozen in the doorway.

"I am thinking of my future! But I'm also thinking of my present and I think I should be able to--"

"Why can't you be more like your sister?" Mom wailed.

My brother stormed out of the kitchen, his eyes widening when he saw me. He shoved past me and ran up the steps. The door slammed from upstairs.

* * *

Breakfast was awkward, to say the least. No one said a word. Eventually, I got up and thanked my parents for the meal. The tension was thick enough to cut. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my backpack and raced out the door.

I couldn't stand awkward situations. The worst part was, my parents didn't even say goodbye. They were too busy giving Andrew the death-stare. And he was too busy giving me the death-stare to pay attention to my parents, which made them even angrier.

A terrible situation overall.

I didn't wait up for my brother because I didn't want to deal with the tense silence and the judgemental glances. So I booked it up the street and towards the school.

The majority of the school day passed relatively easily. That was, until I made it to precalc.

I got there just before the bell rang, sliding into the seat next to Marisol.

"Hey," I whispered just as the teacher started to talk.

She stayed silent.

Was she still angry at me? I was still wondering what I did wrong.

Well, it probably was a sensitive subject for her. Sure, I couldn't have known it would make her upset, but I couldn't be angry at her for her emotions. I should have been the bigger person and apologised.

I took out a post-it. I didn't want Marisol to get in trouble, so I scribbled down a note on a piece of paper.

"I'm sorry for asking you that yesterday. It was insensitive. Are you still angry at me?"

I hoped that was good enough. I unstuck it from the pad and slid it over to Marisol.

She didn't look at it.

I suffered through precalc knowing that she was angry, but not knowing how to fix it. As soon as the bell rang, I nudged her shoulder.

She turned her head towards me. Tears were glistening in her eyes. She wasn't angry, I realized. She was hurt.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you upset because of what I said? Because I'm sorry. I'll never bring it up again--"

"Good," she snapped, and brushed past me without another word.