I climb out of the back of the car, telling our driver we’ll be right back.
The guy looks slightly nervous, knowing my parents will be furious if they find out he took us across the tracks to the far less groomed part of Kansas City. Okay, so they would be horrified.
I’m tired of the same fancy large houses, the private school that requires a tie and blazer. I’m sick of it all, and I’m only eleven.
I turn to look at my brother, who’s still plastered in his seat. “You coming or not?”
Colt turns to look at me, his bright blue eyes actually coming to life with anger. Huh, who knew Mommy and Daddy’s little pet had that in him. “Fine.”
He climbs out, and I slam the door shut, clutching the basketball under my arm as we walk down to the park’s only basketball court, if you can even call it that. There are only a few white lines on the dingy ground, and even they are faded. The nets are frayed and brown with dirt and age.
Colt looks around at the kids running around, loud and out of control, and my poor kid brother looks horrified. It’s chaos we aren’t used to. The children we’ve been around have always been so refined and well-behaved.
I nudge his shoulder. “Come on.”
I start toward a large group of kids who look around our age. “You guys interested in a game?”
One of the bigger ones, a boy with sandy brown hair and thirty pounds on me, gets right in my face, looking down at the ball tucked under my arm. “You don’t belong here, pretty boy.”
My lip snarls, not caring that he’s bigger than me. I’ve always liked a challenge. “Says who, you ugly fucker?”
Colt looks annoyed by my use of bad language. Honestly, I’ve never said the word out loud before, but I’ve heard it plenty from my dad.
“Tommy, leave them alone.” My head swivels toward the sweet voice. A little brunette girl walks up to us. Her jeans are tattered, and she’s wearing a black t-shirt that’s way too big for her small body. Her face is angelic, like a porcelain doll with piercing, dark blue eyes and thick brown eyebrows matching her long, dark hair. Her lips are bright red, but it’s natural. She’s too young to wear that make-up goop my mom and older sister wear.
“And who are you?” My eyes stay focused on the girl.
I feel Colt’s hand on my arm. “Linc, we should go.”
I ignore him, looking at the girl. “I’m Penelope. You’re Linc?”
Penelope? That’s a strange name. Not one I’ve heard before. I nod my head. “Lincoln Sterling.”
She turns to my brother. “And you?”
Colt seems to relax now as he stares at the girl. “Colt Sterling.”
She smiles sweetly, tucking her long hair behind her ear. Of course she likes him more than me. That’s the way it always is with Colt and me. Everyone always likes him best. He’s the good one and I’m the bad.
“You want to come to dinner at our house?”
I turn to my brother after his invitation to the girl is already extended. “What are you doing?”
The girl looks over at us shyly but not scared in the slightest. “Dinner?”
“You’re not going anywhere with rich kids we don’t know, Penelope.” The ugly kid from earlier, Tommy, steps in front of her.
“You her keeper?” I puff out my scrawny chest, having no chance against the much larger kid.
I see Penelope’s small hand on his arm as she pushes him out of the way, her eyes on Colt. “Where do you live?”
He answers her far more honestly than I would have. “Mission Hills.” We live in one of the richest parts of Kansas City.
Her eyes grow bigger. Even as young as we are, the name Mission Hills has a notoriety everyone around here knows.
I shrug. “It’s no big deal. Our driver can take you to wherever you need to be after dinner.”
She’s thinking it over, and I’m certain she’s going to turn us down. We’re complete strangers. Surely her parents have warned her about stranger danger. “Okay.”
Wow. This girl is fearless. I like her already.
She starts to walk with us, leaving her friends behind, and I nudge Colt, whispering quietly near his ear. “What about Mom and Dad getting mad?”
He doesn’t seem too worried about that now. His shoulders shrug. “I like her.”
Penelope smiles as we all climb into the back seat of the town car. Our driver, Tim, looks into the back. “Who’s this?”
“This is Penelope. Take us home,” I answer, not offering an explanation, knowing I don’t owe him one.
“I’m not taking a kid I don’t know.”
“She’s a friend. We just had to pick her up for dinner. Right, Colt?” I turn to look at my brother with Penelope between us. Tim won’t believe me, but Colt?
Colt doesn’t lie, and everyone knows it. He looks slightly unsure but then gives a nod. “Yes. That’s right.”
Tim looks at him, unsure but then starts the car, driving out of the crummy neighborhood.
Colt must really like her. This is the only time I know of in his nine years that he’s ever lied.
“Penelope is a weird name.”
Colt glares at me after my observation, and the girl shyly brushes her brown hair out of her eyes. “My parents are weird.”
“What are they like?” I pry.
Her tiny shoulders shrug. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen them for a long time.”
Colt’s blue eyes meet mine in mutual confusion. “You haven’t?” I’m the only one rude enough to ask.
She shakes her head. “No. I live in a group home with other foster kids. I haven’t seen my mom in years and never met my dad.”
I’d never heard of that before. Not living with your parents? At least some of the time? This girl is different for sure.
“I don’t think it fits you. You don’t look old enough to be a Penelope.”
Colt’s eyes glare in my direction. “Don’t be mean.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I’m not.” I meet Penelope’s eyes. “I’m going to call you ‘P.’ Just the first letter. That works better.”
Colt rolls his eyes, but the girl actually smiles. “I like that.”
“I think it’s more like ‘Pea.’ Like sweet pea,” Colt says as he gives her a goofy smile.
Gross.
She smiles at that, playing with her hair. “I like that too.”
I’m annoyed as we pull up to our house, both of us opening our doors and offering for P to climb out. She looks at us both and then climbs out on Colt’s side, following him up the walk to the front door.
I jog to catch up and then pass them, pushing the front door open. “Mom! We’re home.”
My mom walks to meet us at the foyer, her normal, pleasant smile on her face. She hugs me to her body, her perfume smelling nice, mixed with the smell of cookies she probably baked this afternoon. “I can hear that. Always making so much noise, Lincoln.”
She’s not mad. Not like my dad is when I rush inside like that. Colt and Penelope walk in, and my mom’s eyes lock on her before she hugs Colt. “And who is this?”
Colt is beaming with pride. “This is Penelope, Mom. We asked her to dinner.”