Chapter 6 #2
He moves to completely face me. Jeremiah smiles, but I’m too busy glancing at Rosie to care. “That’s great! I’m happy to hear you’re having a great time! I’m Jeremiah Hastings. It’s so great to meet you.”
He holds out his hand. I only shake it for the sake of appearances. With the other, I push my glasses further up onto my face.
“You know my name.”
I’ll keep my sentences clipped. Out of nerves, and because I don’t want to talk to him.
“Of course I do. I’m sure most people here know exactly who you are.” I let go of his hand and feel the burn of his words. “It’s not every day Keller McCarthy’s son comes walking into the room.”
I mess with my glasses again. I hate this.
Rosalie is staring down at her feet. I wish time would rewind to minutes ago, before this guy interrupted and our attention was focused solely on popcorn.
I want to tell him to leave. I want to say he interrupted our conversation, and we have much more important things to discuss, like her favorite show airing right now or the plot to my favorite anime she seems to actually care about.
I don’t have it in me to say that, though. Being my father’s son means I nod, accept, and don’t ever push back. Especially when it’s my family’s name at the forefront.
Jeremiah continues talking. My mind has drifted elsewhere while he rambles on and this feeling isn’t new. The only words I’ve managed to comprehend are “successful business” and “inspiration.”
“…My personal favorite feature of his was last March’s The Business Code issue where he goes in depth on how the impact of internet shopping has affected every medium in business.”
I almost roll my eyes.
No shit, internet shopping has changed every element of business. Anybody over the age of fourteen could tell you that.
Dad could count to ten with his eyes closed and these people would praise him for it.
Before Jeremiah can continue with his compliments of my father, a deep umber hand pats his shoulder. “Jeremiah, please. Let’s not talk everyone’s ear off less than an hour into the mixer.”
The woman smiles, her skin creasing slightly. She’s older than us, I’m sure, but her facial lines describe sophistication and elegance, rather than age. She holds herself upright, too, spine just as straight as mine—if not more.
When I look at her, it’s not the feeling of someone trying their hardest to impress. It’s someone that embodies professionalism and poise. She is what my father wishes he and I could be.
“Dr. Adebayo!” Rosalie’s voice returns. She pops up, keeps the popcorn cup behind her back, and smiles. “It’s so great to see you!”
“And you, as always, Rosie.”
I’m grateful for this woman. Because of her, Jeremiah stops rambling about my father, and Rosalie’s energy returns.
My roommate’s hand lingers on my bicep for what feels like hours. “This is Locke. Locke, this is Dr. Adebayo. She’s the head of the engineering department.”
I give her a small smile. I know of her by name, just from reading about the department online, but never seeing what she looks like. There’s a high likelihood she knows me by name, if she’s been made aware my father’s connections to Brookstone and the program.
She chooses not to mention it. Just offers me an identical, courteous smile.
“Very nice to meet you, Locke. I see you’ve met Jeremiah as well.” The same hand pats his shoulder again. His posture is more disciplined. He doesn’t lean towards me enthusiastically or stare down at Rosie.
“Locke and I were just getting acquainted.”
I fidget with my glasses. By that he means, he barely scratched the surface of what he wants to say about my father and was going to suggest we hang out later. At Dad’s office. That’s always where people choose.
Dr. Adebayo lets out a small, seemingly knowing laugh.
“I’m sure. However, I wanted to introduce to a colleague of mine.
” She points over to where a gathering of pale men in suits are nodding too often to be truly productive or attentive.
I’m sure they’re talking about business ventures or software solutions none of them are actually passionate about.
I side glance Rosie for a second to gauge her reaction. I know exactly what “colleague of mine” implies, and from how her glossy lips press together, she does, too.
Jeremiah’s eyebrows raise. “Of course! I would be more than happy to go speak with him!”
He and Dr. Adebayo provide brief goodbyes before she nods silently and walks towards the back of the room.
Before Jeremiah follows, though, he throws Rosie a look of triumph. “I’m sure we’ll have an amazing time discussing the internship. At least Adebayo is good for one thing.”
Rosalie grunts, and the girl I’m familiar with returns. “Dr. Adebayo has more talent in her left earlobe than you have in your entire body. Show her some respect before you go over there and mingle with her friend.”
I see the light in his eyes die. I stifle a chuckle.
Rosie’s arms come from behind her back, crossing in front of her chest, the cup of popcorn dangling from her hand.
“At least I’m mingling. You can stay over here and watch from afar, princess.”
He spits the words out quickly. If he thinks speed will make them sound menacing over the shaky sound of his tone, he’s mistaken.
Rosalie doesn’t reply vocally. She just sneers, rolls her eyes, and nods towards Dr. Adebayo standing on the other side of the room.
A weight lifts from my chest when Jeremiah stomps off. The anxiety of prying eyes is still lingering, but when it’s just us, I’m better at regulating myself.
“I hate that asshole.” She grumbles under her breath.
I raise an eyebrow. I wasn’t necessarily a fan of his either, and there’s more to their history than a ten-minute conversation can give away.
Lots more, by the way she’s rolling her eyes.
“He is so annoying. I’m so sorry he came over here and tried to talk your ear off. ”
“No need to be sorry.” I’m annoyed he yapped on and on about my father, but mostly, I’m relieved. I’m not sure what it is about him that makes Rosalie shy away from conversation, but I didn’t like seeing it. I’m glad she’s starting to glow again.
“But you met Dr. Adebayo! Isn’t she stunning?
She’s so cool and collected. Like nothing can shake her because she runs this place, you know?
” There’s a twinkle in her eye as she talks, rambling on while she digs into her popcorn again.
“She is such an inspiration to me. That’s exactly what I want to be twenty years down the road. ”
“A department head?”
“A boss ass bitch.” I can’t help the chuckle tumbling out of me.
I attempt to hide it behind my hand, but it’s too late, and Rosie is laughing too.
“I’m serious! She doesn’t have to deal with shit because no one gives her shit.
She worked her ass off and got the top, right where she deserves to be. ”
My roommate smiles and everything seems back to normal. My shoulders slump and heartbeat calms.
Rosie continues, “Oh! Another thing. Did he say your last name was McCarthy?”
As quickly as calm came, chaos replaces it.
Everything goes cold. The lights around us—as minimal as they are—are suddenly too bright.
Everything positive and happy and delightful around me crashes.
It was too good to be true. To imagine someone so deeply woven into Brookstone’s engineering program wouldn’t recognize my last name.
Here it goes.
I sigh, nod, and prepare for the pit of disappointment. “Yes. Locke McCarthy.”
“Oh my gosh.” Her eyes go wide. I could scream.
I want to go back to being woefully ignorant. In the days we’ve known each other, it was nice for someone to know me. Just me. I say goodbye to that memory while watching her clap her hands, grinning.
“There’s no fucking way. Are you Grant’s brother?”
Everything stops again.
This hurricane of emotions is going to give me a damn whiplash.
“Grant?”
“Yes! Grant McCarthy, is he your brother?”
I blink. I wait. I’m trying figure out what I’m supposed to say. Grant is such a new addition to my life, that I haven’t prepared to talk about him.
Gulping, I nod. Less defeated and more confused. “Yes. He’s my older brother.”
“Like, Grant Grant? Artist, brown hair, stupidly obsessed with a girl named Liliana?”
That’s an accurate description of my brother if I’ve ever heard one.
“That’s him.” The hope starts to win me over again. That, by some miracle, Rosie knows my last name from the older brother I admire, and not someone else. “Do you know him?”
She tugs on my bicep playfully. A small but comfortable smile stretches onto my face. “This is so crazy! Such a small world. I’m Liliana’s best friend.”
My mouth parts just slightly. I’m not used to showing so many emotions in public to someone. “Oh, really?”
She nods excitedly. It’s exactly how I feel, because it is a small world, and it is a happy coincidence. I already enjoyed being around Rosie. Liliana is still someone I only know by proxy of Grant, but she’s undeniably kind, and I’ve grown comfortable around her.
The fact that she knows Rosie, to the point of being best friends, reassures my judgement. My roommate is not at all the type of person to put more weight to my last name than any other part of me. It’s the best unexpected news I could’ve gotten.
“We should’ve exchanged last names the day we met. This could’ve been done ages ago.” Rosie jokes. It’s weird to laugh along with her. It’s so unnatural to find humor in my surname. “Mine is Mendoza, by the way. In case you happen to be childhood best friends with my Tito Manny or something.”
When I laugh, I don’t try to hide it behind my hand. It’s too reverberating for that.
“Can’t say I am. Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” She shrugs. “I’ll introduce you. You got lots of years to make up for.”
In that moment, the anxiety completely lifts away. In a room of people mumbling behind their drinks about who I am and why I’m here, there’s no sense of dread or difficulty to breathe. I’m just laughing, with Rosie, about a joke that won’t make sense to anyone but us.
I hang onto the feeling for the rest of the night. We don’t stay for long, but when she subtly hints she wants to talk to some industry professionals to the right of the room, I encourage her. I follow happily and grit through the conversation one of them has with me about my father.
Before we leave, we run into Dr. Adebayo again. Their conversation is brief, but she tells Rosie she’d like to connect her to one of her colleagues. Says he didn’t have time to attend, but she’s sure he’d be interested in Rosie’s background.
I don’t know if it’s purposeful, but I watch as my roommate falls into the same posture as Dr. Adebayo. Her hands start to fold the same way, and her feet turn pointed and intentional.
She can see herself in this position twenty years from now. I can, too.
After explaining the plot of Spy x Family on the walk home, I realize this is the most talking I’ve ever done in one night. Albeit, almost all of it was to one person, but that’s what makes it significant to me.
I can’t say I’m entirely comfortable with Rosie yet but having her recognize me as Grant’s brother and not Keller’s son has effectively switched something on. Trust.
Trust that if anyone will get to know me, beyond being a successful businessman’s prodigy, it’s her. That’s a comfort I hold on to, late into the night, when I’m getting ready for bed and recognize a friend is on the other side of the wall.