“See?”
She shrugs. The strap of her top falls again. The lump in my throat gets swallowed.
Yes, I definitely see.
“I don’t know why I’m nervous.”
Yes, I definitely do.
I pay too much attention to Rosie’s hand when it reaches up to adjust her top, then moves over our textbooks to pat my forearm. More attention than any one person should afford such a common sequence of events.
“You don’t have to know. It’s okay. When you feel better about it, tell me.” A deep sigh leaves my body when she pulls her hand back and taps my assignment. “Let’s do this first and we’ll have a heart-to-heart later. Whenever. We live together. There’s a fuck ton of time.”
Part of me wants to blurt it all out, but Rosalie makes a point to throw every formula and equation at me, at a pace, with no breaks. It doesn’t allow time to bring the topic up again, but it does make me memorize stuff that becomes useful in my lecture the next morning.
I consider telling her on Friday, but it still doesn’t feel right. She lets me put on a list of anime movies and is so excited to ask questions about storylines and artwork. I can’t bring myself to insert family trauma in the middle of it.
When the time is right, I’ll feel it. I’ll know.
eleven
LOCKE
On Saturday,I get let out of the office at an appropriate time. After my father got a message from his professor friend that I apologized with an overpriced pair of cuff links, he was noticeably nicer to me.
Nicer being, he only insulted me twice and let me out at the same time of his other employees. Overall, a huge win for me.
The singular saving point of a long day at the McCarthy offices was knowing when I got home, Rosie would be sitting on that couch. Some form of media would be playing on the television screen, and a bowl of popcorn would be placed in front of Ghost.
Tonight, instead of the gray pajama shorts I’ve pretended not to memorize, she’s wearing long pants. Red plaid, with the waistband tucked a few times so she doesn’t step on them while walking around. Her lounge top matches in print, is sleeveless, and still prone to the straps falling down her shoulders.
“What do you want to watch tonight?” She asks while Ghost rubs his white fur onto my worn black t-shirt.
“It’s your turn to pick.”
“We’re taking turns?”
I shrug. “Yesterday we watched anime. You choose today.”
Rosie hums, walks back to the couch with a fresh bowl of popcorn, and plops onto her side of the couch. “Musicals?”
Ghost meows, and we both laugh. “It’s a yes from him, so it’s a yes from me.”
“Perfect.” She clicks through the countless streaming apps before finding what she wants. “Ever seenFootloose?”
My groan is muffled by the popcorn kernels in my mouth. “Yes. A million times. It’s Billie’s favorite movie.”
Rosie smirks before pressing play and setting the remote on her arm cushion. “A million and one.”
This being my millionth and first watch means I know every major point, every beat, and subconsciously, I tap my feet to the dance numbers I wish I didn’t have memorized.
It’s equally embarrassing and eye-opening. Realizing this is the first time we’re both familiar with what’s playing, means neither of us is too engrossed in the movie to talk. I glance over at Rosie to gauge her interest, and like me, she only looks half-engrossed.
Still, she sits and watches the musical. Heat reaches up into my neck.
This feels like the right time.
“Rosalie?”
