“How?” I’m unable to mentally process how something so innovative came from a square like Gavin.
“I didn’t use ChatGPT at school because I was lazy. I used it because I was busy learning how to cook. I took night classes, which made it hard to focus during the day. And, El”—he sighs dreamily—“I loved every minute of it. The challenge of making something new with the same ingredients is what gives me life. It makes me feel useful and accomplished when I create something people like. And I’ve never felt that way. Not at school or with Dad. When I cook, everything makes sense. It’s what I’m meant to do, who I’m supposed to be.”
“Gavin, I’m so happy for you,” I say genuinely. But somehow I get the feeling that this isn’t something everyone would be happy about. “Does Dad know?”
“No, he can’t know. He’ll be devastated. Even more than if he knew about me getting kicked out of USC.”
“You really think so?” I know Dad has his heart set on Gavin working with him. But is being a chef that bad?
“Come on, this is Dad we’re talking about. That man is so stuck in the past, he hasn’t evolved since Adam and Eve. You cannot tell him anything he doesn’t want to hear. If it doesn’t line up with his set of values, it goes in one ear and out the other. And what’s worse ishow he doubles down on his stance anytime anyone challenges him. He’d never understand why I would give up a corporate job to work in a kitchen.” Gavin shakes his head with a look of defeat. “It’s why I started running. The mental load from trying to please Dad and stay true to myself was becoming too much. I had to find a way to relieve some of the stress.”
I guess that explains why he started an exercise regimen, but it isn’t a solution, at least not a long-term one. “Yeah, but how much longer can you keep something like this from Dad? You have to tell him at some point.”
“The best way to handle Dad is to keep up the pretense that I’m doing things his way in order to do the things I want to do.” Gavin’s stance is firm.
I’m speechless. As the responsible one, Gavin doesn’t disagree with Mom and Dad. He doesn’t argue; he listens. He doesn’t say no; he says yes. And when he’s told to follow in Dad’s footsteps, he follows. But when I hear Gavin tell me about his sheer determination to underhandedly pursue his passions despite Dad’s unwillingness to support him, it’s as if he’s describing someone else. He’s describing me. Suddenly it dawns on me that I might not be the only one who’s been struggling to fit in in this family.
“Just promise you won’t say anything to Mom or Dad about cooking. Not until I have a solid plan.”
I nod, giving him my word. Even though I want him to be honest with our parents about who he is, I have to respect the way he’s going about it.
“You know what’s weird?” I say. “I’ve always had an entrepreneurial spirit but suppressed the urge to ask to be part of the family business because Mom and Dad always made me feel like it wasn’t my place. This whole time you’ve been doing the same with cooking.”
After my words sink in, he releases a heavy sigh. “El, I’m sorry. I never knew that’s how you felt.”
“How could you? We’ve never talked about this stuff before.”
“True,” he admits.
I always thought our differences kept us from being close. But maybe I had it wrong this whole time. Maybe it was our similarities that made it impossible to see each other for who we really are.
The phone rings, startling us. I want to say that it’s because it’s an unfamiliar sound to us, but the truth is, it’s probably because we were lost in our thoughts. For a second it got deep between us.
Gavin picks up the phone. “Oh, hey,” he says as soon as he hears who’s on the other end, and he takes the phone to our room. I’m about to head into the bathroom to take a shower so he can have privacy talking to Sonya. But when I overhear part of his conversation, my ears inadvertently perk up. He sounds—bro-y? I usually don’t have any interest in eavesdropping on any of Gavin’s phone conversations, which, as far as I can tell, are a snoozefest. But if he’s not talking to Sonya, then who is he…?
I press my ear against the door and catch the last part of his conversation.
“Sounds good, man. I’ll meet you at the cafe tomorrow.” Gavin hangs up the phone, and before I can get my feet to move, he’s at the door.
“Um, can I help you?” he says, clearly catching me eavesdropping.
“I forgot something—bra—tampons—cramps,” I blurt out a series of words that usually repel him, but of course this time they don’t work.
“Sure” is all he says, opening the door for me to come in. The smirk on his face lets me know that he’s not buying my excuse.
I go into my suitcase and rummage through it until I find a bra Ihave no intention of wearing and a tampon I have no need of, then ball them up in my hand. “Who was that?” I ask casually before I head back to the bathroom.
“Brennan. He’s on his way back from LA and asked if I wanted to meet him tomorrow for lunch. Then he offered to show me the lab where he works.”
“Can I come?”
He raises a brow. “El, I really don’t think Brennan is—”
“Look, Gavin,” I start, realizing I need to break down our current situation to him in easily digestible, Gavin-sized bites. “You and I aren’t much different. You have ambitions; I have ambitions. You feel stifled by other people’s expectations; I feel stifled by other people’s expectations. And can we agree that this is so not the summer we envisioned for ourselves?” When Gavin agrees, I continue. “For the first time I’ve started to see the flip side of being here. Not only are we cut off from the good parts of our lives—the private jets, the exclusive restaurants, being waited on hand and foot—” My voice trails, along with my train of thought, and I quickly pull myself back from digressing. “My point is, while we’re in Blaire, we’ve been given a blank slate. You have the freedom to experiment with this new version of yourself. Without It’s Ok! you get to explore who you want to be. And maybe I do too. I want to finally know what it feels like to be in relationships without my reputation overshadowing me.”
“You do?” Gavin softens.
I nod. “Isn’t it time we start having the summer we want?”
