Chapter 16
sixteen
LOCKE
Everything is going well. Too well. So much better than I imagined it could’ve. To the point where I’m beginning to get a little scared, if I’m honest.
There’s been an undeniable layer of anxiety in my chest since the night Rosie came home crying. For multiple reasons. Because I wanted to be there for her, and I’m scared my actions caused more harm than good.
She seemed to be in better spirits after we talked, though.
Her smile was brighter, and her mood seemed to lift once we took our familiar places on the couch and dedicated the night to movies she loved.
But the memories of our conversation beforehand kept me wondering.
Did I do what I needed to make her feel better?
The other thing sending anxious waves through me, is how that conversation changed things between us. If it changed things between us.
I love having Rosie as my roommate—as my friend. There’s something so special about her, her drive and her tenacity, that feels inspiring. Since being around her, I’ve seen how much more there is to life.
There’s another side to that I’ve increasingly tried to ignore. The one that gets distracted by the bright gleam of her smile and her fluttering eyelashes while she talks. Those things don’t feel like friendly observations.
I don’t want to overthink every interaction between us. I hate teetering between what should be right for our friendship, and what feels real and right in front of me.
I’m trying to drown out the wanton voice in my head telling me to do what my heart says, but it gets harder to ignore. I give into what feels right. Get Rosie her favorite snack, bump her foot under the table, steal sneaking glances when I think no one else is looking.
My nerves are on edge. Rosalie smiles at me every time our eyes meet and the vibe around the table is friendly and welcoming. Even Derek—who felt intimidating when he first arrived—is becoming easy to be around.
But I can’t relax right now. Not when the woman who brings light to the world is leaning over me and conspiring with my sister.
“Shut up. You have to show those to me one day.” Rosie giggles with Billie, and I groan.
“She really doesn’t.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. Lots of teenage boys give themselves botched haircuts. I just have pictures.”
“I wasn’t a teenager. I was eleven.”
“Same thing.”
I rub my temples. Rosie’s laugh is usually so soothing, especially after a day of second-guessing myself and mentally preparing for the worst, but mixed with my little sister’s, I know it just means trouble.
They had minimal interactions during the first hour of the night. It was a game of Never Have I Ever that really got them going. Now they’re sharing trade secrets—some at my expense—and it’s almost like I’m not here.
The two girls I care about most in the world are connecting and getting along, but at what cost?
“Rosie.” Liliana breaks the trance they’re in, and I don’t think I’ve been so grateful to her. “Come with me to the bathroom?”
In what feels like a flash, Liliana and Rosie are excusing themselves from the table, shuffling around chairs, and heading out of eyesight.
And ear shot.
“Oh my gosh.” Billie’s hand squeezes my wrist. I try to shake her off, but her hold is as stern as the look in her eye. “I love Rosie so much.”
For a moment, her grip doesn’t feel so tight.
Grant laughs across the table, and Derek takes another sip of his drink.
“I’m serious.” My sister only lets go to lock her fingers together and hold them under her chin. With one of the most serious expressions I’ve ever seen on her face, she keeps her eyes pointed at me. “You have to marry her.”
“What?”
I’m not eating anything, but something still lodges itself in my throat. I cough and scratch at my neck, but Billie doesn’t seem the least bit concerned.
“You have to. Grant is going to marry Liliana, right?”
My brother nods simply, like it’s the easiest question in the world. “No doubt.”
“See? I need them both as sisters. So, chop chop.” The sound of her hands clapping together reverberates around my ear drums. “I don’t know how you’re going to pull it off, but you need to win her over.”
I wince.
“What does that mean?”
Billie’s signature grin—half-turned, that seems innocent on the surface, but really means she’s going to do something mischievous—paints across her face. It’s the number one indicator she’s going to poke fun and give me shit, because that’s what little sisters do.
“I mean, look at her. She’s so pretty. She’s hands down the second-funniest person at the table.”
“Who’s the first?” Derek makes the mistake of asking.
Without missing a beat, she answers, “Me.”
Normally I’d have to stifle a laugh. Despite her quick-witted banter usually putting me at the end of the joke, I do think my little sister is funny. I would argue she’s the funniest person I know. Rosie is her only real competition.
But it’s the thought of Rosalie, and the echoing of Billie’s “jokes” that keep any humor from filling my head. The insecurity of not knowing who I am, or if I’m the type of man Rosie deserves, is swallowing me whole.
“Didn’t you say she was some math super genius too?” I grunt and look to the ground. I know what comes next. “A math genius, with you, who failed remedial math… do you see where I’m going here?”
She giggles again. I know my sister is just giving me shit. Rarely do I ever take it to heart. It’s almost impossible, I’ve come to learn, to not take things to heart when Rosalie is involved.
I try to use happy thoughts to cushion what will be another inevitable blow.
The weather lately, chilly enough for a coat and hot cocoa but not cold to the bone. The relaxation of playing my favorite video game and not caring about how much time has passed.
The sound of laughter drifting through the hallway and into my bedroom first thing Saturday morning. Right when the sun is starting to peek over the city skyline, but the brightest thing in Boston woke up thirty minutes ago to make pancakes.
So many things make me happy and should soften the blow to my confidence.
But Billie laughs again, and continues to talk, and everything stings.
“A girl like Rosie probably has a million and one guys lined up, you know? And I don’t know if all of them are spending their Friday nights playing video games-”
“Billie.” Grant’s voice is a deep contrast to the relaxed, laid-back tone he had minutes ago. It’s commanding, but still soft. I look up to see his forehead creased. “Tone it down, please.”
The tension immediately becomes suffocating. My hands move on their own, taking my glasses out of place on the bridge of my nose and putting them back again. And again. And again.
I wish I was back at my dorm. With Ghost. With Rosie.
Where is Rosie?
I start counting the seconds. Surely, it’s been almost ten minutes since she left. I’ll count down to three minutes before I get up to find her myself. Anything to get away from Grant’s arms crossed, Derek avoiding eye contact, and Billie hanging her head like she was scolded.
I’m forty-eight seconds in when my sister clears her throat. “Sorry, Locke. I was just messing around. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
She pokes a finger into my arm and I shrug. This is her way of saying “Sorry if I hurt your feelings.” I don’t think she knows how to fully say those words aloud because she’s never had to.
I don’t think she has now, either.
“You’re fine. Nothing’s weird.”
“I just really like Rosie.” Billie lifts her head, looks around the table, and huffs. “Kill a girl for wanting another baddie as a sister-in-law, damn.”
A chuckle finally finds its way out of my chest. The shaking of my upper spine against the chair’s back makes me realize how far I’ve slipped into my seat. I readjust, roll my shoulders, and punch my sister’s arm for good measure.
“She’s my roommate.”
She scoffs and jabs my side. “See? That mindset is why I said you need to put in the work to win her over.”
Grant laughs and shakes his head. The tension disappeared as soon as it emerged, and I laugh, too.
“She’s my roommate” I repeat.
I almost add “just” in the middle of the sentence, but it doesn’t feel right.
Billie rolls her eyes. She glances around the table before that signature smirk reappears. “Alright. Since you’re only roommates, Derek should shoot his shot.”
A chorus of “What?” comes from all three of us. In different levels of confusion and disbelief.
She laughs instantly. I want to laugh with her, but a vision of Derek leaning over to compliment Rosie’s gold earrings or joke with her about a TV show sucks the humor out of me.
Without thinking, I say, “No.”
“Bingo.”
The stare-off begins. My sister is way too relaxed and giddy for having said something that sounds ridiculous and sets my skin on fire.
“Uh, if it counts for anything, I’m not interested.” Derek mutters from his seat.
When he was first introduced to the group a few hours ago, I was intimidated by him. Scared of having someone new in my space, and nervous about meeting a person so important to Grant while I’m still building a steady relationship with him.
Derek’s not so bad. After a few games, I started to get settled with the feeling of being around him.
Now, though, after saying he’s not interested in Rosie, I just think he’s crazy. And I’m weirdly grateful.
“That’s an insane statement, but okay.” Billie mumbles through a piece of popcorn she pulls out of Rosalie’s bucket.
Across the table, Derek awkwardly chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.
“Don’t get me wrong, she seems great. But I recently got out of a really bad relationship and…
” He glances at Grant. It dawns on me that my older brother and his girlfriend are the glue piecing this group together.
“I’m not in the head space to entertain anything right now.
I’m just trying to figure out how to have friends again. ”
He looks at Billie and I, a boyish smile portraying enough for me to feel another layer of relaxed around him.