Chapter 7
seven
ROSIE
I never doubted Liliana would keep space for me in her life. She wouldn’t forget the friendships she has just because of a boyfriend. We wouldn’t stop visiting our favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant just because her boyfriend can afford to take her to fancier places, either.
It’s hard to beat the charm of a ramen shop tucked away from one of Boston’s main streets. The brown-brick restaurant has been our go-to since undergrad—mostly because they have ten-dollar Saturday specials and a pork broth neither of us can refuse.
A sleeve of Liliana’s light pink cardigan almost dips into it while she’s pushing her boiled egg around her bowl. “Do you have that ‘no extra credit’ professor again this semester?”
I groan into a bite of noodles. “Yes. Don’t remind me. He spent fifteen minutes of our first class emphasizing that extra credit is for lazy students.” I roll my eyes. “Like we’re not the same cohort he taught a few months ago.”
“That’s both my favorite and least favorite thing about grad school. You get to keep the good professors.”
“But the bad ones, too.”
“Exactly.”
Our back-and-forth dynamic is held deep in my heart. I don’t think there’s anyone who fully knows me, who I am, and my deepest worries, but Lil is definitely the closest in my life.
“How are your classes going?” I ask while wrapping more noodles around my chopsticks.
She beams. “Good, surprisingly. I decided to choose romance as my focus for my literature course. The class seems interesting so far.”
I lean over the table to pat her arm. “That’s great! So when are you letting me read one of your stories?”
Her face falls. “Never.”
“When you become a published author you can’t stop me from buying your book, you know.”
“Who said I was going to become a published author?”
I smirk. “Your journal entries where you go on and on about how it’s your life’s dream.”
“Rosie!” Liliana metal spoon clanks against the bowl when she drops it, along with her jaw. “You went through my journal?!”
I laugh, throwing my head back and nearly choking on the food in my mouth. “I fucking got you. I guessed. You walked straight into that.”
If her jaw could go any lower, I think it would. I clutch my chest with laughter. Too easy.
Liliana rolls her eyes, but eventually she starts chuckling, too. “You’re so annoying.”
“You love me.”
“Uncontrollably.”
I let my laugh carry further than around our table, because laughing with my best friend is comfortable in that way.
This part of me is one I’ll always show her.
It’s how we work. I try my hardest not to spoil our time together with mentions of what school life is like for me.
The disrespect I experience only matters in lecture halls.
Or, at least, they should only matter in those spaces.
As if she has as clear view into my brain—honestly, she might—Liliana asks, “What about your classes? Aside from the not great professors.”
Lil giggles at her joke, and I follow, but it isn’t as wholehearted anymore.
Last semester was manageable. The mumbles about me, and my ability to perform were minimal… until I got dumped and everyone had something to say. Still, the comments were quiet and subtle enough that I could pretend not to hear them. I grit my way through and came out top of my cohort.
The first week of classes this semester, however, have shown that whatever little respect my peers had left for me, has quickly run out.
I won’t tell her that, though.
“Pretty good.” I lie. Aside from wanting to preserve this bubble of fun and happy conversation, I don’t want to bring down the mood after learning how well things are going for her. “Classes aren’t so bad. My curriculum is sounding interesting, too.”
“That’s good.” Liliana chews into her noodles and looks into my brain again. “Is Jeremiah not bothering you, then?”
I stifle a groan. Just his name puts a sour taste in my mouth. I have to wait a minute before I can eat again.
My best friend doesn’t even know the worst of Jeremiah. Not that I built him up to be indestructible while we dated, but I told her positive things about him. How career-driven he was, how he asked me about my day, how he opened doors for me sometimes. Stuff that would put my other exes to shame.
Getting dumped for being “too serious” about our relationship was enough for Lil to dislike him. I can’t imagine what she’d think if I told her he’d broke things off with a text that said, “The only times I’ve taken you seriously were when you were on your knees.”
I didn’t even ask for labels. Labels don’t interest me. I just wanted him to admit he saw a future with me, and he wanted something more than sex. Apparently, that’s too much to ask for, but at least it was a blessing in disguise.
Seeing his face flash across my mind, I scrunch mine in disgust. “His very existence bothers me, but he always kicks it up a notch. At this point, dealing with him might as well be part of my degree requirements.”
Side comments before class, glares during class, not-so-subtle bumps against my shoulder after class. He’s the worst part of my every day. I don’t know what I ever saw in him.
“That sucks. I’m sorry, Rosie.” Lil gives me a small smile. “I hate men.”
“Not true. You love Grant.”
Liliana’s demeanor brightens again. His name does that to her. Weirdly, it’s comforting. To know my best friend is loved to an extent that a word could change everything about her day, for the better.
“You’re right. Grant is a man, so I don’t hate men.” The corners of her mouth start to turn up in a smirk. “I hate boys.”
“There we go. That I agree with.” We laugh together again, for enough minutes that the name McCarthy invades my mind. “Oh my gosh, wait, that reminds me. I have something I need to tell you.”
Liliana motions me to continue, but she’s already bringing a piece of chashu to her mouth. I wait for her to finish chewing through it. I wouldn’t be surprised if my revelation caused her to spit it out in shock.
“You are not going to believe this.” I clap my hands together and break out a wide grin. “But your future brother-in-law is my roommate.”
“What?!”
Her shock bounces off the walls of the restaurant and the people closest to us start to stare. Liliana doesn’t even notice.
I nod and throw my hands up dramatically. “Locke, Grant’s brother. He’s my roommate. I just found out a couple days ago, when we went to a grad mixer together and his last name came up.”
“Locke Locke? Blonde? About six-”
“Foot three or four, wears glasses, always in jeans and a button down? Yeah. Him.”
I predicted every motion of Lil’s reaction, except for the way her head turns in confusion. “Jeans and a button down?”
“Yeah. He wears that almost every day around the apartment.”
I don’t anticipate her body reeling back, either. “Okay, everything other than that part fits. I’ve never seen Locke wear that before.” I reel back too. “I’ve only seen him in suits. And like, a pair of pajama pants, once.”
“That’s weird. I’ve only seen him in a suit once.” I blink at her and get lost in my own confusion.
Seeing him in that suit, before the grad mixer, was surprising. I almost did a double take when he walked out of his bedroom buttoning the cuff of his jacket.
I had to remind myself five times on the walk to campus to stop staring at his wrists. And stop studying his expensive watch moving over his skin. And stop replaying the few seconds I observed him working his fingers over the buttons, so precise and careful.
That fancy silver watch makes sense now. I thought it was weird for a college student to have something so luxurious. I choked it up to rich parents originally, and I wasn’t wrong. I just didn’t realize how rich his parents were.
“His dad,” I say, and immediately notice the way Liliana’s face drops. “Is some up there businessman, right?”
“Yeah. Keller McCarthy. He’s the co-founder of VK Corp.”
My spoon gets lost in my soup when I drop it. “That online shopping platform hosting thing?”
She sighs and nods. “That’s the one.”
I gawk. I’m sure VK doesn’t platform every online business in the world, but it has to be a majority of them. Every single one I know and shop from, at least.
It’s enough information for me to figure out why so many eyes followed us at the mixer.
“Holy shit. That’s why Jeremiah basically sprung a hard on when he saw Locke on Tuesday. He would not stop going on and on about Locke’s dad.”
My best friend’s shoulders sag, and she places her spoon down, too. “Oh no. People were bothering him about Keller?”
At Liliana’s pitying tone, my shock morphs into concern.
“A few people, yeah. Jeremiah came up to us and started saying…” The first sentences of what he said to us weigh on my conscience again.
I push those feelings aside and pretend they didn’t follow me the whole night.
“Stuff about his dad. I kind of zoned out because he was rambling, but it was all good stuff. I figured it was a family business friend or something.”
“Good stuff and Keller McCarthy should never be used in the same sentence.” She mumbles the words out, but I catch them. My back straightens.
“I know you said Grant isn’t a fan of his dad but, it’s that bad?”
She sighs, long and deep. “You couldn’t even imagine. I really, really, try not to get myself in the middle of their family issues. That’s Grant’s personal business and he’s still trying to navigate his relationships with his siblings. So, I don’t have much to tell.”
“Of course not.” Liliana and I tell each other everything—about ourselves. We understand there are some lines we can’t cross, especially not for the sake of pure gossip. “Please don’t feel like you have to spill some family drama to me.”
She waves her hands. “I don’t. And I won’t tell you anything I shouldn’t.” Her teeth bite down onto her bottom lip. “But just know their dad is more of a CEO than he’ll ever be of a father. The three of them—the siblings—they’re the only people who fully understand that.”
There are some things about Locke I can easily recall.
The way his hands mess with his glasses even when they’re sitting perfectly on his face.
His eyes dancing around the room before he says something short and clipped, and the flush of red on his face immediately after.
The near-robotic way he snapped in and out of position during the mixer when his dad’s name was brought up.
The reclusive, introverted way he carries himself aligns with what Liliana says. I can recognize I grew up with a large family, lots of friends, and a never-ending desire to meet new people.
I’m extroverted because I was raised around open arms. Up until the beginning of last school year, I can’t think of a time where I didn’t feel inherently welcomed. The thought of not having that throughout life, and especially at home, opens a dark hole in my stomach.
My heart burns. “I hate that. He’s so nice.”
“Isn’t he? He’s super shy, but I promise once you get to know him, he’s fun to be around. Please don’t let his stoicism scare you off.” Liliana smiles softly.
“It hasn’t.” I laugh and swirl my noodles around my chopsticks. “I mean, when we first met, for a bit, I was afraid he’d feel a sort of way about living with me.” I leave out the, “because I’m a woman.”
“I think he’s slowly getting more comfortable, though.”
“I know you’re going to say I shouldn’t have worried to begin with, but I was really worried about you living with a guy in the dorms.” Every muscle in her face relaxes, as if the distress is physically slipping off her features.
“But you living with Locke is arguably the best thing that could’ve happened.
I know him and I trust him. He’s great.”
Something warm spreads throughout my chest.
“Don’t gas him up just because he’s your future brother-in-law.”
“I’m not! Seriously. Since he started hanging out with Grant regularly in the last few months, I have too, and he’s so sweet.
” I smile through my last bite of food, and despite the obvious answer that Lil is biased towards him, I believe her.
“This situation is even better than just you living with someone we know isn’t a creep. ”
I wipe the corners of my mouth and laugh. “Wow, even better than that? That’s so much to live up to, though. How could it possibly get better?”
“Ha ha ha.” She rolls her eyes at my sarcasm.
“What I mean is, Grant and I wanted to start getting everyone together to hang out. His main concern was Locke feeling overwhelmed with new people.” The simple, brotherly love of that makes me grin.
“But if he knows you already, then that’s perfect.
It’d only be one new person Locke would meet. ”
“That person being?”
“Grant’s best friend. He got out of a bad relationship last month, so Grant’s trying to get him out and socializing.”
The best ideas start sprouting in my head. “Socializing how? Like, with bowling, or volunteering, or maybe going out clubbing with your friends?”
“No. Not clubbing.”
I whine and throw my head back against the chair. “Come on! Just once?”
“I went clubbing with you once. Never again.”
“I told you bar fights are not as common as you think and we just got really unlucky.”
“I’m scarred.” She shrugs, and my hope dies. “Clubbing is not a part of the plans. I’ll figure something out—something fun and wholesome and not surrounded by sweaty half-drunk people—and we’ll let you guys know.”
I fall into my seat half-dejected. Do I think my best friend will ever give into my requests to go partying before we become too exhausted to stay out past eight PM? No. But the thought of us, hanging out with her boyfriend, and his brother, does cushion the hit.
I don’t hate being associated with Locke. If we’re roommates with mutual friends, that’ll probably become a given. At least for the school year.
Maybe that’s a good thing. I hoped I’d find friendship with my roommate. Locke makes it feel possible. And if what Liliana said about his father is true, then I’m even more happy to be a friend to him.
I’d like to make our apartment a safe space for the both of us. Everyone deserves one of those.
I nod. “Fine. No clubbing, but I do want us to all hang out.”
“We will.” She motions for the waitress to bring the check, and I reach for my card before she can stop me. “I might take your bowling suggestion. It sounds fun.”
“It does… But if you ever feel like-”
“No.”
“I didn’t even finish my sentence.”
“You don’t have to.”
My best friend is distracted enough for me to slap my card down. I’ll pay for dinner, she’ll pay for boba, and one day, we’ll go to a club and get someone else to pay for our drinks.