Chapter 9
nine
ROSIE
I’ve never seen Locke storm. Storm in, storm out, storm left, right, etcetera. I didn’t think it was possible. Everything in my mind related to him consisted of soft and shy.
But when he bursts in Saturday night, while popcorn kernels cover my black lounge shorts, it’s like he’s a storm. Raging and uncontrollable.
The high school senior on the television screen is making a bet about the nerdy girl in his class when I pause the movie, and Locke yanks his necktie loose.
“Hey,” I say hesitantly.
There’s still a cloud of undeniable tension surrounding him, but he pulls together a half-smile anyways. “Hey.”
It’s not like when we usually talk and he’s short with me. Those times, from his body language and tone, I know it’s because he’s timid. Now his voice is sharp and his posture is frosty. It’s so unlike him.
Almost as if he can sense the change in the air, Ghost hops off his cat tower, and runs towards my roommate’s legs. Locke’s broad shoulders slump a tad, and the corners of his mouth raise to a tiny smile.
Ghost meows when his owner picks him up and holds him close to his chest. His shoulders slump further.
My lips purse. I don’t want to risk our budding friendship by overstepping, but I equally want Locke to know that as a friend, I’m here for him. Locke lets out a deep sigh when Ghost nuzzles his head into his white button-down, and I decide that he should have more than one waiting for him at home.
I ask, “Are you okay?”
He turns towards me, still petting the cat in his arms. Locke looks around and finishes kicking off his expensive loafers.
“No.”
His tone changes again. Less sharp, more defeated. I frown.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He tilts his head closer to Ghost. “I don’t know.”
From what Lil has told me, and the things I’ve learned while living with him, I’ve realized Locke and I are opposites in a lot of ways.
The only things we really have in common are our majors—only by technicality, because software engineering and financial engineering are completely different—and the fact that we’re passionate about our nerdy hobbies.
Video games and Legos for him, film and television for me.
But the look of emotional uncertainty behind his eyes, while he clings to what comforts him most, is something I understand too deeply.
I never know if I want to share my struggles with people, either.
So used to putting on the front of a confident and strong-minded person, that when I’m distressed for whatever reason, I get stuck.
Do I ask for help, or pretend I don’t need it?
Knowing that means I know what he’s really saying. It’s not that he doesn’t want support; He doesn’t know how to ask for it.
I wiggle into the left corner of the sofa, tighten my grip on the empty popcorn bowl, and smile. “We don’t have to talk about it. But if you want to get your mind off things, I’m having a movie marathon tonight. You’re welcome to join.”
Saturdays in undergrad were the party days, before struggling through Sunday assignments while hungover. I’ve grown out of the hangover part, but staying up later than I should remains the same. It’s in the form of questionable romcoms tonight.
I pick up the remote and wave it around. “We can watch something else. I’ve seen this movie at least ten times.”
Locke looks at Ghost for a few moments before slowly walking towards the couch. His silence makes me think he’s going to reject the offer, but only for a moment, before he glances at the screen.
“This movie is fine.” He sets Ghost down in the middle seat, and I smile. That’s a yes. “Can I change first?”
“Of course. Take your time.”
He disappears into his room. I refill the popcorn bucket, rewind to the beginning, and pat Ghost’s head when he curls into a ball. No more than ten minutes pass before Locke emerges from the hallway in blue pajama pants and a graphic t-shirt.
I smile behind a bite of popcorn. I’ve been seeing less button-downs and jeans in the apartment, and more washed-out tees. I hope his change in comfort extends beyond his clothes.
“Is that a character from the anime you were telling me about?”
Said character is wearing a long brown cloak and holding a spear, and my roommate glances down at it. “Oh, no. He’s from my favorite video game.”
“The one you mentioned? Something… Impact?”
“Yeah.” He lets the topic die, so I do too. Instead, Locke settles onto the opposite side of the couch and folds his hands together. I set the popcorn bowl between us so he knows we’re sharing.
“You sure you don’t want to choose what we watch? You could put on an anime. I’m always up for something new.”
He glances over at me, eyebrows raised. I mimic the expression, but he shakes his head and clears his throat. “No. That’s okay. I’m not sure I’d be able to focus.”
Whatever happened today, it must be weighing on his mind. I hum.
“I get it. Another time, then?”
His shoulders fall slowly, body melting into the couch. Nodding slowly, he lifts his hand to the bowl and takes a piece of popcorn.
“Next time.”
When the opening sequence of a high school classroom with cringey dialogue starts up, small waves of embarrassment roll through me. I watch every genre of media. Action, drama, horror, suspense. Romance, though, will always be my favorite.
It’s the little girl in me who grew up believing in true love’s kiss and prince charming that keeps me going back. I’m a lover girl, even if my track record should steer me otherwise.
The boys I’ve dated are also the reason I don’t share these movies with other people anymore. Too many instances of guys teasing dramatic love confessions and heartfelt coming-of-age stories have soured the experience.
I silently hoped Locke took me up on the offer to choose something else. Facing another onslaught of insults would deter me from staying up until three am watching movies tonight.
Like when he walked into the dorm, though, I’m reminded not to assume things about Locke so quickly.
Twenty minutes into the movie and he hasn’t insulted me, or it, at all. He’s matching my pace at scarfing down popcorn and hasn’t pulled his eyes away from the screen even once.
“Please tell me,” he says right after swallowing another mouthful. “Her best friend isn’t in love with her.”
“Jesse? No, not at all.” I glance sideways at him. His green eyes are laser-focused on the screen and I chuckle. “Have you really never seen this?”
“No. I haven’t seen much romance. Just whatever my little sister forced me to watch.”
I turn my head fully towards Locke. I knew he had a sister, but my information from Liliana is limited. This is the first time he’s ever mentioned her.
“At least you watched some movies with your sister. My brother always changed mine and then pretended he didn’t when my mom started scolding him.”
He laughs, soft and small. At first, I think it must be because of the film’s weird art show, but then he turns to me and I’m staring into emerald green.
“I did that too. Depending on the day.”
“Oh, so you are a standard older brother?” I tsk sarcastically. “And I thought you were different.”
He laughs louder. “As standard as I could be.”
I try to imagine Locke in a living room with his younger sister, messing with her movies and shows because it’s an innate feeling in siblings.
It checks out to what I know. But then I imagine a parent getting in the middle of their charade, and the vision becomes fuzzy.
From what Lil told me, that part isn’t as believable as it should be.
I won’t impose those thoughts on him, or my speculation that his negative aura earlier was because of his father.
Instead, I let us fall into easy discussion of the film.
Even with a hushed voice, and a slight tone of uncertainty, Locke asks questions.
About the cast and what they could’ve been in before.
He comments that he recognizes the fancy hotel a scene is shot in, because he stayed there a few summers growing up.
The way he opens the floor for me to talk about this makes me want to share more with him.
“This is my favorite scene,” I mumble through a bite of popcorn, and he looks back and forth between me and the screen.
“A kiss in the rain?”
“Yes.” I whisper the word, and for a moment, I second guess myself. Maybe I shouldn’t dump random things I like about the film and my thoughts connected to it. It might be annoying and bothersome to him, like it has been to other guys.
I glance at Locke. He’s staring at me, eyes void of judgement. They’re glossed over with patience and curiosity.
His silence makes it feel okay to share these thoughts. Even if they may be pointless, he’s willing to listen.
“It’s so cliché, but I love a kiss in the rain. It’s so poetic.”
“Poetic?”
I double-check. Make sure his face hasn’t morphed to disgust, but it’s the same look of patient interest.
I can’t stop myself from sharing with someone who will finally listen.
“Yes! Think about it. Not about that humid, gross rain during the summertime. I’m talking about the cold and gloomy rain during fall and winter.
Everyone hates it. People literally get seasonal depression when the weather changes.
” I point to the window for dramatic effect.
In the last week or so, the temperature has started to drop.
The weather hasn’t fully shifted into chilly wind and icy rainfall, but I know it’s coming.
When it does, society is going to tuck themselves into their homes and avoid the outside world, because rain means frost to so many people.
Sometimes, that applies to me. But when I’m cozy on a couch, staring at a scene of two people embracing under a romantic rainfall, it’s different. I love it.
“Imagine, during what everyone considers to be cold, heartbreak weather, you’re with your lover. You kiss. In the middle of a storm that’s supposed to chill you to the bone, they keep you warm, and there’s nothing to be sad about. Not when you have them.”