A/N: OH MY AEROSOL.
I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry it took me this long to update, guys. I'm not even going to OFFER an excuse, because there isn't one, other than severe writer's block and, obviously, a total disregard for my readers, because I haven't updated since AUGUST. I didn't even realize that until just now when I was typing up this chapter, and it was completely mortifying. I feel terrible. Big, big props to anyone who still reads this story after having to wait this long.
Also, on another note, I just re-found my Hairspray DVD! Evil sibling took it... grr. But I have it again, so it's all good.
Okay, I've made you wait long enough for this. Go to the chapter!
Chapter Eighteen:
The Letters
Weeks went by. The pain dulled sometimes, but it always came back: Penny would pass Seaweed in the hallway, or he would see her at the diner having dinner with Tracy, and a sharp pang would run through both their chests.
Penny, for lack of something else to do once she stopped going to rehearsals and tapings, pulled the folded-up piece of paper in her suitcase, made note of the address, and wrote a letter to Karen:
Dear Karen,
Sorry I didn't write sooner. Things just started happening, one after another, and I just never had a chance to think. Now, though, I have more time than I need.
I guess I'm doing all right—I'm living with my friend Tracy. You know, the girl who visited that time while I was still at Our Lady? I'm back at my old school; nothing really different there. There's really nothing much going on… gosh, I sound dull. Please, write back and tell me something about you so I can at least say I've heard about something exciting, ha ha.
Really, how are you? How's everyone else? Is Judith still as crazy as she was when I was there?
Sincerely,
Penny
A couple of days later, she received a reply:
Dear Penny,
I was wondering when you'd finally send word back here! Took you long enough, though. If I didn't know myself better, I'd say I was getting worried.
Now, to answer your questions:
I'm fantastic. I haven't had a detention, a failing grade, or a phone call from my parents in over a month!
Everyone else is basically the same as they were when you left—oh, except Sharon went home. Her parents finally forgave her, on the condition that she take a vow of sobriety and never drink again. That's all right, though—she was a little bit of a wet blanket sometimes, anyway.
They brought in a new girl to fill your spot, too. Her name's Ellen, and she's here on a scholarship. (Read: a total goody-two-shoes.) Which reminds me of your third question:
Yes, Judith is still a head case. In fact, she went home, too, just a couple weeks ago, after they caught her saying Hail Marys to a cat in the chapel at two o'clock in the morning. Turns out she had some kind of a mental illness. Who knew?
You didn't mention Seaweed at all in your letter. How's he?
Always,
Karen
Dear Karen,
Wow. Judith went home, huh? I guess she really was crazy. Good to know you're doing okay.
Tracy's mother is already getting out Christmas decorations. It's strange, because Thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet, but Tracy says that Christmas is a big holiday for her mom, and she tends to start making sure decorations are where they're supposed to be a few weeks in advance.
Are you going home for Christmas?
Sincerely,
Penny
Dear Penny,
You didn't answer my question. How is Seaweed?
Always,
Karen
Dear Karen,
You didn't answer mine, either. Are you going home for Christmas, or aren't you?
Sincerely,
Penny
Dear Penny,
I asked first.
I'll answer your question if you'll answer mine. Deal?
Always,
Karen
Dear Karen,
All right, fine. Seaweed and I broke up.
Are you happy now?
Sincerely,
Penny
Penny—
NO. NO, I AM NOT HAPPY.The boy drove miles to visit you every week while you were in Catholic prison! You got kicked out of that Catholic prison for him (which, while it wasn't exactly a huge sacrifice, was a pretty big deal)! WHY DID YOU BREAK UP?
--Karen
Dear Karen,
It's complicated, and you still haven't answered my question.
Sincerely,
Penny
Penny—
I will answer your question when you TELL ME WHY YOU BROKE UP WITH A BOY WHO LOVED YOU. Some of us aren't lucky enough to have that luxury, if you'll remember.
--Karen
Dear Karen,
Oh, don't pull that. Do you really want to know? I guess it doesn't matter now, because I'm telling you whether you want to know or not, because you are getting on my nerves.
After I got back to Baltimore, my mother told me I could either never see Seaweed again, or get kicked out of the house. Of course, at that moment, I chose Seaweed—and, because I had nowhere else to go, I moved in with his family. Nothing happened; it was completely innocent. (Okay, well, not completely, but not that not innocent, either.) We didn't tell anyone besides Tracy and her boyfriend, because we thought it would make things difficult, but somehow this horrible girl at school found out and told everyone. Overnight, I became a slut. I guess I overreacted a little, and asked if I could move out of Seaweed's house and into Tracy's. He got angry, and it just… ended. That's it.
Sincerely,
Penny
Dear Penny,
…Wow. I am so sorry, Penny, I really am. If I'd known it happened like that, I wouldn't have tried so hard to get you to talk about it.
All right, maybe I would have, but I'm still sorry it happened to you.
Who's the girl who found out?
Always,
Karen
Dear Karen,
Her name's Amber von Tussle, and she's horrible. She and her mother tried to get Tracy (and me, plus eighteen other women) locked up in the Baltimore Women's Detention Center last year, because we were trying to integrate the TV show Tracy dances on… okay, that's a long story. But Amber's just mean to everyone. What makes it worse is that she's also one of those perfect little blonde girls who get everything they want—a little like someone else I know (just joking).
Ugh. Can we talk about something else now? You never did tell me if you were going home for Christmas or not.
Sincerely,
Penny
Dear Penny,
Actually, she does sound a little like me. That's kind of funny.
I really prefer staying at Our Lady for Christmas to going home. I don't know, it's just that most of my family knows about "the incident" (that's how every one of them refers to it, when they talk about it at all… ugh) that got me sent here, and it's just better to avoid the piercing stares and disparaging looks and questions about "how am I doing now, sweetie?". Also, in case you haven't figured it out already, my parents are a little uptight for my taste. So, no, I'm not going home for Christmas.
Always,
Karen
Dear Karen,
Wow. You haven't been home for Christmas since you got to Our Lady? That's kind of sad.
Sincerely,
Penny
Dear Penny,
You know what I miss? Mashed potatoes. Really good, fluffy ones with lumps in them. The ones here at Christmas are smooth and runny, and gross.
Always,
Karen
Dear Karen,
GUESS WHAT?
I talked to Mrs. Turnblad (that's Tracy's mom) about your mashed potato problem. She was shocked that a school as hoity-toity as Our Lady couldn't serve decent mashed potatoes on Christmas, and she said that it would be fine if you came HERE for Christmas, because she always makes enough food for an army (and, obviously, my mother won't be coming to dinner this year).
What do you think?
Sincerely,
Penny
Dear Penny,
I think I'd better pack a scarf. It's cold out.
Always,
Karen
P.S. Thank you. Really.