Chapter 5: Penny

Tyler falls into step beside me as we weave through the crowded hallway.

It’s funny—he’s got one of those walks that somehow makes people move out of his way without him even trying. I used to think it was because of how tall he is, or maybe because he’s always got that calm, easy energy, like nothing ever rattles him. Now I’m starting to wonder if it’s just that when you believe the world will part for you, it usually does.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just nudges me lightly with his elbow.

“Hey,” he says. “About earlier. I’m sorry.”

I glance over at him.

He looks... earnest. That slightly furrowed brow he gets when he knows he’s messed up but isn’t sure exactly how to fix it.

I shrug one shoulder. “It’s fine.”

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath. “It’s not fine, though. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I wasn’t on your side.”

I shrug again, slower this time. “I know you’re just trying to be nice.”

Tyler slows his pace a little, matching mine exactly, even when the hallway flow gets tighter.

“I am on your side, Penny,” he says, and this time he stops walking completely. I turn toward him, a little confused.

Before I can say anything, he lifts his hands and cups my face gently between them, his palms warm against my cheeks.

“I’m always on your side,” he says. “I just… don’t like conflict. You know that.”

He says it so easily, so naturally, like that should be enough.

And maybe it is.

I smile, small and a little stiff, but real. “I get it.”

And I do. I really do.

Tyler’s always been the guy who makes peace. Who cracks a joke when things get too serious. Who diffuses tension instead of adding to it.

It’s one of the things I loved about him first.

It’s just... sometimes it feels like being on my side would mean not diffusing it.

Sometimes it feels like it would mean letting the tension burn, just a little, just enough to prove that he’s really, truly standing next to me.

But maybe that’s not fair.

Maybe I’m just tired. Sensitive.

Overthinking it because the morning went sideways and I’m still carrying it around like an idiot.

I shake the thought off and force a little more lightness into my voice. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Instantly, Tyler brightens, like I flipped some hidden switch back on. His hands drop to his sides, and he rocks back on his heels, the way he always does when he’s excited but trying not to look like it.

“My parents called this morning,” he says. “They’re doing a big dinner thing tonight. They want us to come. You too.”

I blink at him. “Me?”

He laughs under his breath. “Yeah, you. Who else would I be talking about?”

I bite back a smile. “They usually don’t... you know. Ask.”

“They love you,” he says easily. “You know that.”

I do.

Or at least, I used to think I did.

It’s not like I’m not welcome. Tyler’s parents have always been kind to me—especially compared to my own parents, who mostly keep a polite distance from my life unless there’s a trophy involved.

But they don’t usually make a point to invite me. It’s always been more casual. More, if you’re around, stay for dinner.

Not... please be there.

“What’s the occasion?” I ask.

Tyler shrugs, like it’s the most unimportant thing in the world. “They said it’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

“They sounded excited. So, whatever it is, it’s good.”

I stare at him for a second, suspicious. “You’re not even curious?”

He grins. “Nope. I figure if it’s good news, it’s worth waiting for.”

I make a face. “I hate waiting for surprises.”

“I know,” he says, smirking. “You’re like a cat with a closed door.”

I elbow him lightly in the ribs. He catches my wrist with one hand and twirls me half a step toward him like it’s a dance move.

“Relax, ballerina,” he says. “It’ll be fun.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling now. He’s impossible to stay mad at when he’s like this—so easygoing, so sure the world’s going to hand him something good.

Maybe I need some of that.

Maybe tonight will be exactly what I need to snap myself out of this weird, heavy mood.

“I have practice,” I remind him.

“I know. I told them. It’s cool.”

He grins again, wide and bright.

“I’ll pick you up after. For real this time,” he adds, winking.

I snort. “Better be.”

“I’ll even bring snacks if you want.”

“Now you’re just trying to bribe me.”

“Is it working?”

I laugh. “A little.”

He bumps his shoulder against mine, and we fall into step again. The hallway's starting to clear out, more doors slamming shut as the late bell ticks closer.

We stop outside my classroom.

Tyler leans down, presses a kiss to the top of my head—quick and casual, but it still makes something warm uncurl in my chest.

“I’ll see you at five,” he says.

“Five,” I repeat, mock-saluting him.

Then he turns and walks away, blending into the river of students, his hoodie bobbing among the backpacks and chatter and scuffed sneakers.

I watch him go for a second.

Not because I don’t trust him.

Not because I’m worried.

Just because... it’s nice. Having someone to wait for. Having someone who waits for you.

I shake off the feeling and push into my next class just before the bell rings.