I, Penelope 

by 

Amanda R. Hamlin

Chapter 4,  Part I

The Hot Thing

        Even though I know it's a bad idea, I agree to see a movie with Kendra the following weekend in an effort to make up with her. I still really believe she's the one at fault but since she doesn't agree I have to be conciliatory if we're to move forward. The movie is a romantic comedy which pleases her and Julia (who also comes with us). It's not horribly offensive like Bachelor Party but is both depressing and boring. But, since I'm trying to be nice, I bite my tongue and do my best to conceal this fact.
              After the movie we decide to wander randomly around the mall. After all, it's not like we have anything else to do with ourselves. “I have news,” says Kendra importantly as we walk down the hallway. 
               “About Sven?” sneers Julia.
              “No.” Kendra turns and, for no logical reason, glares at me.
              “I said nothing. Giving her the evil eye,” I reply crossly.
              “This news is about something important, about the guy I like in fact.”
              “As I was saying...” Julia mutters and gets kicked hard by Kendra in retaliation.
              “So, is this someone you like-like?” she asks, quickly moving back out of kicking range, “or just filler until..” She quickly cuts herself off as Kendra steps towards her again but everyone knows she's about to say ”until you stop being mad at Sven?” It's not like we haven't seen the pattern enough times before.
               “No, I like-like him,” says Kendra sourly. “He's only a year ahead of us so it's not, like, impossible.”
               “Come on, who?”
               “Joshua Gram.”
               “Him?” I say, disappointed. “He's pretty boring. He was in my science class last year and had no clue what was going on the entire time...and that wasn't even an advanced class.”
               “What happened?” Julia asks Kendra. 
               “He works at the counter at the fitness center so, every time I sign in or out, I see him. He likes to smile at me.” She gets a dreamy look on her face.
              “Are you for real? What can you possibly see in him?” I say, making a face. 
              “What kind of a question is that?” Julia wants to know. “What do you see in Robert?” 
              “Easy. He's really smart, he's witty and makes me laugh, and his confidence is magnetic.” Julia turns to the nearest potted plant we're passing and pretends to throw up in it.
              “Easy there,” Kendra objects. “That's my friend you're trashing there.”
              “But you're not dumb enough to like him. In here.” She grabs our wrists and pulls us along excitedly as we draw opposite Spencer's Gifts.
               “Anyway,” I say, finally managing to escape her relentless grip once we're inside the store, “we weren't talking about Robert. We were talking about Joshua.” 
              “Yes.” Kendra licks her lips theatrically. “Let's keep talking about that.”
              “So, why do you like him?” I ask as we move towards a shelf filled with lava lamps and black lights. 
              “Wouldn't this look awesome in my room?” Julia points to a Doors black-light poster glowing with psychedelic colors.
              “It's alright.” I shrug. “I prefer this.” I gingerly take down a lava lamp, it's rounded cone filled with dancing blobs of sea foam green. I've always wanted a lava lamp but at $65 they're way out of my price range and I put it back reluctantly before I can run the risk of dropping it. It's a good thing too, because Julia suddenly grabs my arm to direct my attention to some sparkly door beads hanging against the wall. 
              “Remind me never to let either of you decorate my house,” says Kendra, rolling her eyes. “But, as for your question, Penelope, have you taken a look at the guy?”
              “I've seen him around school, yes. But then, I've also looked at most of the other people there as well and have absolutely no interest in 99.99999% of them.”
              “Don't play dumb,” says Julia over her shoulder, still fingering the door beads. “The guy is hot. It's as simple as that.” 
              “No, it's not,” I reply, standing on tiptoe to reach over a pile of magnetic stars to take down the 3D pin art box behind them. “Seriously, what does that even mean?”
              “It means he looks good.”
              “But it's not like there's some kind of absolute standard for that. I mean, I certainly don't notice anything special about how he looks.” I tilt the small clear box in my hands back and forth, watching the pins slide in and out of their holes. 
              “I suppose you're going to argue Robert looks good.”
              I shrug. “The way he chooses to dress and carry himself shows he's intelligent and confident and I do find that...well...you know. But I don't think anyone's looks alone could make me like them...or stop me from liking them.”
              “Obviously not with your track record.” Julia and Kendra proceed to gush over how “hot” Joshua is (whatever that means) and this makes me very angry. I'd really like to gush about how wonderful Robert is. But that's not allowed. Just attempting it will get me laughed at. 
              However, bad that is, it's not the real issue here. As I slip my hand into the pin art box, I wonder for the billionth time since the world around me hit puberty what the hell is wrong with me? I don't have the same thoughts or feelings as the other people my own age. All that stuff they say is normal and natural for us to go through just seems to not happen to me, or to do so in only the most generalized, vague ways. I suppose I could be the most epic late bloomer in existence and, sometimes, I pin my hopes on this possibility—that, when my time comes, my breasts will actually develop like the other girls'. But that explanation doesn't really hold much weight since I've had body hair and periods since twelve or thirteen, just like I'm supposed to. No, all my physical developments (except bust size, of course) seem to be right on schedule but the corresponding emotional developments are impossibly late. I want a refund from the delivery company. 
              No, a more likely explanation is that—due to genetic mutations or whatever—I'm just some kind of freak of nature. I was born without desire like some people are born blind or deaf, missing a limb or mentally challenged. And, like them, I can't help wondering what my life would have been like if I had been normal or wishing I had been normal (at least I assume they think about that). I tilt the box, feeling the pins prick against my skin as the shape of my palm appears on the other side of the central panel, outlined by the raised pin heads. I feel rage boil up inside me and know I'm about to do something stupid. “If you ask me,” I say (which, of course, they don't), “you would have done better to stick with Sven.”
              “Are you insane?” Kendra looks up from a bottle of “sexy body spray”--just colored water really—that she's been squirting on the back of her hand. “You're actually going to defend Sven?”
               Prick, prick, prick. The pins dance on the surface of my skin, making the whole area shiver. “He may not have many redeeming characteristics. But even one or two would be more than this guy has.” 
               “Seriously? This sounds really interesting.” Julia is also paying attention now. “Let's hear about these redeeming characteristics.”
               “Well...uh...” I hadn't exactly expected to be put on the spot like this. I fiddle with my hands to gain a little time and the pins tingle back and forth over my hand. “He's real,” I blurt out. Kendra and Julia give each other sidelong glances and I quickly race ahead before they can say anything. “He's the kind of person who'll help you on a class project or hang out with you on the weekend, who's easy to have a conversation with, even if he doesn't have anything interesting to say. I bet you've never hung out with Joshua, or even hung around to talk to him after your work out.”
               Kendra tosses her head. “Well, if you think Sven's so great, he's all yours,” she replies dismissively.
               “That's not the point.” I jerk my hand back out of the 3D pin art box and drop it on the floor, leaving my hand pulsing with angry red scratches. Yes, the pins are dull but not dull enough for me to be so careless. “I don't want him,” I say savagely. “But, since you did, you must be able to like someone for reasons other than this “hot” thing.
               “Because Sven totally isn't,” laughs Julia as she heads off towards the clothing racks. 
               “No, but...well...I mean...I though...” It's not hard for Kendra to see this isn't going anywhere good—for her anyway—and, instead of finishing her though, goes wandering after Julia to look at the T-shirts. Before following, I take a moment to pick up the pin art box from the floor—fortunately, it didn't break—and put it back on the shelf. When I rejoin them, they are eagerly admiring a shirt that reads “a hard man is good to find” and shows a guy with very little clothes on and so many overdeveloped muscles that he barely looks human. I feel my face get hot and am terrified that passersby will think I'm looking at the shirt too—and, worse, liking it—so I quickly slide a couple feet down the aisle to a rack of t-shirts only have text on them and make a great show of reading the words very intently.

--end IV. Part 1—

Copyright: Amanda Hamlin

Not to be used by A.I. without permission of the author.

Cover art by Eric Hamlin

To view his portfolio, go to: https://www.instagram.com/hamlin.eric/

Not to be used by A.I. without permission of the artist.

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Also read:

 “Deliverance from the Eye” a short story by Amanda Hamlin, free at https://amandahamlin.stck.me

“Ravenlord,” a short story from the point of view of a woman should be read by all men, is also available at https://amandahamlin.stck.me and on TAPAS

 Also, go to: All That is Gold at URL:     http://allthatisgoldwriting.blogspot.com/p/httpsdrive.html

For non-fiction by this author go to URL:  https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Amanda-Hamlin

 9/7/25