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, theyshouldonly 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 chewingthrough 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’smy roommate. I just found out a couple days ago, when we went to a grad mixer together and his last name came up.”
“LockeLocke? 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.”
