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lying down.

    Four days later, Penelope’s mother called her. Penelope was outside reading a book.
    “Hi, Mom,” said Penelope.
    “Penelope!” screamed her mother.
    “Hello!” said Penelope.
    “So. How is it? Do you love it?”
    “It’s interesting,” said Penelope.
    “What does that mean?” said her mother.
    “I don’t know. I mean, how does anyone quantify experience?”
    “Oh God, Penelope. Are your roommates assholes or something?”
    “Yeah. I don’t know. I think one of them huffs paint.”
    “What about the other one?” asked Penelope’s mother.
    “Oh, I never see her. She knew all these people before she got here. She color coordinated the closet.”
    “So then what have you been doing?”
    What had Penelope been doing? One night she took a bus, which she thought went to another part of campus (Radcliffe) but instead went to Brandeis University. She walked around Brandeis for a while. It was deserted. She talked to some graduate students recovering from the aftermath of a Wilco concert. She went home.
    Another night she stood on her stoop for a couple of hours. A homeless man carrying a grease-stained paper bag approached the stoop and started playing the harmonica. Several people came out on the stoop when they heard the harmonica and started playing their own instruments, including Adorno Eric, who brought out a cello. The homeless man started singing about fisting a woman and everyone went inside.
    “Oh, nothing really,” said Penelope. “There was a panel on medical school admissions a couple of days ago.”
    “But you don’t want to go to medical school,” said Penelope’s mother.
    “I know,” said Penelope.
    “When do classes start?”
    “Tomorrow.”
    “When do extracurricular activities start?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “You should join an extracurricular activity. What about the chorus?” said Penelope’s mother.
    “But I’ve never sung before,” said Penelope.
    “That is what chorus is for,” said Penelope’s mother.
    “No, it isn’t.”
    “It is for learning how to sing. I bet there are a lot of cute guys in the chorus.”
    “I bet there aren’t,” said Penelope.
    “Well, fine, Penelope. You don’t have to take my advice.”
    “I just don’t think cute guys flock to the chorus, that’s all.”
    “Are there any cute guys in your dorm?” asked her mother.
    “Not really. Though maybe they are hiding. People are kind of staying in their rooms to prepare for classes,” said Penelope.
    “Why would they be preparing for classes? Classes have not started yet,” said Penelope’s mother. “Maybe you aren’t going to the right places.”
    “I don’t know where else to go. I mean, if people aren’t around, they aren’t around. I’m not going to chase after them begging them to be my friend.”
    “Penelope. Having friends requires a certain amount of effort. You need to get out there.”
    “Fine. Fine,” said Penelope. Her mother was wrong. She did put in effort. She just didn’t know where anything was or where anyone was going. Sometimes she would stay in the common room with the door propped open, hoping that someone would see her inside and ask her if she wanted to come out with them. This strategy had not worked yet.
    “Well, that is all I am saying.”
    “OK.”
    “Are you reading?”
    “No,” said Penelope, who hid her book near a vine.
    “Good. Because you can’t just read all the time. You have to be proactive. I love you. I have to walk with Liz now.”
    “OK. Have fun walking.”
    “Bye! Make an effort!” said Penelope’s mother.

    Penelope decided to go back to her room. Classes were going to start tomorrow. She had to lay out her outfit, apply a face mask, and whiten her teeth with whitening strips to prepare.
    When she got back to the dorm, Emma was in the common room looking at the course book.
    “Hey,” said Penelope. She put her book back on the broken shelf.
    “Hi. Do you know what classes you’re going to shop