He’s right, it’s not. But I don’t pay Locke any thanks for the interruption, because I know it’s more to keep the cool public image of the McCarthy family intact than it is to lend me a hand.
Tugging on the sleeve of his navy blue button-down, she snorts. “What, jealous because Grant has a super-hot girlfriend and you’ve only been rejected before?”
The stoic aura surrounding Locke pops, and he throws his hands up in frustration.
“Oh my gosh, you’re so annoying. It happened once in high school and you don’t let it go.”
“That’s because it was hilarious.”
“Says the girl who went to prom with the only guy who talks to her.”
The two of them start bickering, the kind that is too personal to be lighthearted but joking enough to know they’re siblings.
I look to the side, trying to catch Lily’s attention, but she keeps her gaze pointed towards them. Their conversation is building in volume, and for a second my lip starts twitching in amusement. When Billie tippy toes to flick Locke on the forehead, Keller interferes, voice booming and harsh.
“Knock it off!”
It stops instantly. They stand eerily still, like kids being yelled at by their father for the first time and not grown adults harmlessly bantering.
Backs straight, faces neutral, amusement gone. It’s like their argument never happened in the first place.
“Sorry about that.” My father’s voice has turned a hundred-eighty degrees, too, morphed into a peaceful tone. “Liliana, was it?”
He holds his hand out, and Lily takes it in a shake, and I hate him for being my father.
“I’m Grant’s dad.”
Lily finally looks at me again, hazel eyes curious but knowing. I haven’t elaborated any further on Keller since that day in the café. She’s never asked, but I’d like to think she knows I’d rather forget my father than remember him.
Keller beams at us. He’s either ignorant to his kids staring at their feet timidly, or has completely decided to ignore them. With my experience, I’d put money down on the latter. He has a special skill for pretending his children don’t exist.
His large hands slam down on their shoulders, both flinching for a second. “These are Grant’s siblings. Billie and Locke.” They wave when their names are called but stay silent.
From my interactions with the McCarthys, they’ve never acted like this. Locke is quiet but never hangs his head. Especially when I’m sure Keller has taught him to keep it high in case someone is watching.
Billie has only ever been energetic and sociable. Apart from my mom’s funeral, I think this is the longest I’ve seen her go in silence.
The air is growing increasingly awkward. I’m not sure what to say or how to mediate this. I know Liliana better than these three people combined, and if I had it my way, they wouldn’t know her at all.
She waves back and smiles, strained.
“Hi.” Lily turns her attention to Locke. “We’ve met, actually.”
“Oh, you two know each other?” Keller asks, glancing between them and then at me, like I’d answer any of his questions about Lily.
Over my dead body.
“He comes to the café I work at sometimes. Ran into Grant and I there together.” I want to stop her from giving any more information, but I know it’d paint her in a rude light. My hatred for Keller isn’t worth that.
And even if I don’t want to admit it, I’d feel at least a little guilty. I just ran hundreds on my father’s card for her. Not that he’ll notice, or that it’ll be a dent on the millions he rakes in, but the principal is still there. My mother raised me better than that.
“Locke.” Thin fingers push his glasses up the arch of his nose when he looks at our father. “You didn’t tell me you ran into Grant.”
The shopping bags nearly slide off my wrists, and I fumble to hold them.
Locke didn’t tell him he ran into me? He didn’t tell Keller that I was suspiciously alone the first time he walked into Caramel & Latte, sputtering to get my story straight?
His shoulders shrug, face impartial and unbothered. “I forgot.”
