Chapter 28
twenty-eight
GRANT
The GPS installed in my car says it’ll take a little over an hour to get to Brown University. I haven’t thought up what I want to say to Locke when I show up to his school.
Heath suggested I write something down. Anything I can think of, even just a general idea of what I want to say. I spent more time than intended asking my cousin for advice on how to approach this.
While strapping Clem into her car seat this morning, the only answer he had for me was, “Locke is your brother, not mine.”
It was no help. If anything, I think it made me more confused.
Not wanting to hold up their road trip to Pittsburgh any longer, I let them get on their way, just as confused as I was before.
I’m still coming to terms with what the conversation with Derek taught me. By talking to him, I realized how deeply alone he felt in his toxic relationship. It’s not an excuse for his lack of communication, but my grudge doesn’t excuse a lack of empathy, either.
That night forced me into reflection. I faced the fact that maybe I push blame onto people, even if they’re not fully at fault.
Sometimes, they’re not to blame at all. And maybe I’m too stubborn for my own good.
I was too stubborn to give up on Liliana.
Too stubborn to forgive people when they’ve done wrong in my eyes.
I’ve been trying to process it for days in preparation for this.
The hour car ride is consumed by things I could say, and how Locke could respond. Even with my self-revelations, I don’t completely understand him. I’ve become so used to resenting him in place of my father, that my brain defaults to it.
When I try to consider what his life might look like, it ping pongs between his scared expression when Keller yelled at him, and the years of seeing them in press photos.
Gripping my steering wheel harder, I will myself not to judge before speaking to him. Liliana believes in something here. Enough that she talked to Billie about it, brought it to me, and sent me on this journey. I trust her, and I trust that. I’ll follow it until I’m proven wrong.
Locke doesn’t live in the campus dorms like I thought.
It took 15 minutes of pep talking to build up the nerve to call him. Four rings until he answered. Through awkward fumbling, because I’ve never talked to him over a phone call before, he gives me his address and agrees to meet me outside the apartment building.
Locke doesn’t look like himself in the passenger seat of my car.
The call was abrupt, and it was barely a five-minute drive before he came outside.
But never would I have imaged his prim and proper frame draped in a Spider-man t-shirt and pajama pants combo, hair messy like he’s just gotten out of bed.
It’s the exact opposite of how I’ve always seen him. Here, he just looks like… a guy.
It’s throwing me off. I wish I succeeded in planning what I wanted to say, because I’m still at a loss.
“Thanks for coming out here so last minute.” I manage awkwardly. It’s a start.
“Of course.”
What Liliana said about Billie has me analyzing every choice Locke is making tonight. If my half-sister “admires me,” does the same go for him? If he doesn’t think highly of me in some sense, he wouldn’t be so willing to trudge out of his apartment last minute, on a night of finals week.
It motivates me to say something. I search my brain for everything I’ve ever thought about Locke.
He’s my father’s perfect son. He makes me feel inferior, and resentful. I’m not entirely sure if that’s because of Keller. He speaks in short sentences and is always fidgety. As far as interactions go, he and I never seem too enthusiastic about talking to each other.
Whether he thinks like Billie, or shares the same resentment I do, I don’t know. None of my information about him convinces me a certain way.
I don’t know if this is the conversation Lily had in mind, but I can’t think of any other way to start.
“I think this might get awkward, but I have to ask.” I don’t have to, but I’m fumbling to put my thoughts into sentences. “Do you have something against me?”
His lips stretch into a thin line. If he admits he enjoys watching me fumble from the sidelines of his family, I’ll know the resentment is shared. That’s expected. I can unpack it.
If he says no… I’m not prepared for that. But after repatching what was broken with Derek, I have faith I can figure this out, too.
He clears his throat. “Of course not.”
Locke doesn’t talk much. Memories of his voice are blurry, but I don’t remember it sounding so defeated.
He’s staring out into the neighborhood street and avoiding eye contact with me.
There’s only one direction I can see this conversation going.
I’m not sure if it’s the most effective, but it’s all I’ve got.
“Okay. I think I have something against you.”
I wait for him to be offended. Maybe move to leave my car or change his previous answer and say our father should’ve left me in the shadows where I belong.
Instead, he nods.
“I know.”
“You do?”
“It’s obvious.” He readjusts his glasses. “Billie says you treat both of us the same way. You don’t.”
The words are sharp. He’s certain in what he’s saying. A tiny layer of guilt starts to spread over my chest, because he’s right. That was something I thought about while driving here—how to explain why I’m patient around Billie but easily irritated with him.
“I didn’t know I was being so obvious.”
“You are.”
I let my neck go slack and push back into the head rest. “Is that why you ratted me out to Keller?”
Locke glances at me for a second before turning back to the street, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”
“You did.” I huff. “I know you did. How else would he know it was Liliana I was with on Thursdays?”
From this angle, the corner of his mouth coming up in a smirk is hard to catch. But I see it. “He bluffed. He’s a businessman. That’s what he does, and he’s good at it. You fell for it.”
Irritation builds at his bland response. “What the hell does that mean?”
He holds a stare with me for the first time tonight. Focusing on eyes that look exactly like mine makes me feel like I’m talking to myself.
“He wanted you to show up at Billie’s dinner. You were attached to Liliana. One could infer she was who you were meeting with. I didn’t tell him anything.”
“If you weren’t reporting back to him then why did you keep showing up to Caramel Locke was made for it. He was born and built for this, and here’s the proof.
“You would know.”
I don’t mean for it to sound bitter, but my tone turns up anyways.
Locke doesn’t faze. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Unfortunately?” I don’t know if it’s because we’ve established how I’ve felt towards him, or if it’s because I’ve already encouraged my father to cut me off if he wants, but I don’t hide my thoughts. “You’re Keller’s perfect child. You’re supposed to know that stuff.”
“Unfortunately.”
Locke says it without blinking. Robot-like, programmed to accept those words and feed a response without emotion or thought.
It unsettles me and I retreat into my corner of the car.
“Why would that be unfortunate to you?”
The line of his jaw straightens, and a hard expression I’ve never seen before falls onto his face. “Do you think I like being dad’s special project?”
The answer should be obvious. He’s never gone against anything our father says or does. But his features shift so quickly, it causes me to question my assumptions of him for the first time. That same feeling I got scanning over Derek’s barren apartment is emerging.
“I-” Sighing, he pulls his glasses off. Without them he looks even more cold and serious. “He talked to you about taking over the company, right?”
I back up further into the space between my door and seat, plastic digging into my skin. “Yeah. You knew about that?”
“He told me. A few months ago.” Locke turns the eyewear in his hands and wipes the glass. “I was so happy.”
“What?”
“My whole life has amounted to dad’s dream of keeping the business in the family.” He smiles when he puts the glasses back on, and a pit opens in my stomach. I’ve never seen this side of him before. The happiness spreading across his face is another opposite to everything I thought I knew.
This expression so plainly contrasts with what he looked like thirty seconds ago. The hopeful look completely contradicts the persona I created for him.
“I don’t want to do it. When he said you would be responsible, I was happy.” Locke lets himself smile for a few more seconds before it starts to falter. “You said no, though.”
“He told you that, too?”
“No. You didn’t grow up with us.” The hairs stand up on my skin. It triggers every part of me in the worst way possible. My spine straightens and I grip onto the side of my seat, hard. “Dad can’t manipulate you.”
Locke doesn’t notice how quickly I start fuming. His last sentence falls on my deaf ears, and anger overtakes me. I try to hold onto my positive intentions, and how I felt after patching things up with my best friend. But the mention of my fatherless childhood sends me reeling.
“At least you had a dad.” I’ve never said it aloud to someone before. “That’s more than I can say. You wouldn’t know about that, would you?”
I expect an awkward silence to stretch. Again, he surprises me, nodding.
“You’re right. I figured that’s why you hate me so much.”
I tsk. “I’m pissed off. I have shit I have to work through, but I don’t hate you.” My head turns away from him, frowning.
“You do hate me.”
“I don’t.”