“No it’s not.”
The room goes eerily quiet. No soft pattering of Ghost on the counter when he shouldn’t be, or the sound of rain drops on a window. Only ringing in my ears and the echoes of Locke’s words. Stern, assured, quick.
I sputter, “Well, in STEM it is.”
“No it’s not.”
“It is.” I can hear the uncertainty in my own voice. I’d been convinced of this one fact for so many years, I rule my life by it. But the resounding conviction of Locke’s words are making me second guess myself. “No one takes me seriously if I’m too emotional.”
“That’s ridiculous. Who told you that?”
My waterlines are flooding again. For once, I don’t feel the need to force them into a drought. In front of him, at least, I think being like this is okay. “Everyone tells me that.”
“I disagree. Emotions are fine. I’ve cried at my father’s office before.”
“In front of him?”
“Well-” His voice sputtering, and mine begins to gain confidence.
“It’s different for us. It’s different for me.”
“I haven’t cried in front of my father, no. But his colleagues have seen it before.”
“It’s still different, Locke.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“It’sdifferent.” I spit out through gritted teeth. The frustrated, angry words he’s not understanding get caught between the spaces.
“It’s not that different, Rosie.”
“I’m a woman.” The chilly autumn air slipping through the cracks of our windows shift. Thick tension takes over and the first angry tear falls off my cheek. “Everything is different. Other people can speak out of turn, and it’s not an issue. But me? I need to know my place. I need to stay composed. I get upset once, and it turns into an entire ordeal. I’m no longer mature enough to handle high-pressure situations, or I’m expected to pull twice as much weight to prove myself. Maybe you can be caught crying by some colleagues, but if I cry once out of frustration after a bad midterm, I’m told I’m not cut out for this.”
Tears are pooling on the scratched wood of our dining room table. I don’t know if everything I’m saying is coming out clear. Both in sound, through the sniffles and hiccups, and through meaning, because frustrations are being spoken before I can consider them. But I keep going. It’s nice to say it comfortably. To have someone listen.
“I have the best grades in the entire cohort. I work three times as hard as every man in my major, and the only things my peers have to say about it is that my outfits are too sexy and that I’d be better off leaving a man’s job to aman.” I grit my teeth and swallow down every word that’s ever stopped me from speaking the truth. “If I were a man, I wouldn’t have to fight for respect. I’d already have it.
“And if I were a man, the boys in my cohort wouldn’t feel so threatened by me. They’d praise me, and fight to be my friend,and wouldn’t ridicule me just because they can. But I’m not a man, so none of that happens for me. It’sdifferent.”
Saying it aloud heals something in me, at least the tiniest bit. It patches up a hole I’ve had in my heart for far too long. After letting the emotions spill out, I can breathe easier. I can talk more clearly, having expressed myself for the first time in a long time.
“That’s why I was so emotional. The guys in classes were being…” I sigh. “Especially difficult. I was busting my ass during lecture and they kept messing around. And still, our professor thought it was me who should be scolded in the middle of the lesson, not them. It was really frustrating today. It set me off.”
“Was it Jeremiah?”
“And his friends.”
Locke crosses his arms and sits upright, white t-shirt pulling tight against his biceps. His large frame looms over the table, jaw sharp. “He’s so jealous and threatened by you.”
“He should be.” I pick up the napkin to dab against my nose. “I’m better than him in everything. I know I am. The Xion Group internship should be mine as is.”
If I were a man.
My roommate seems to know the words, even if I don’t say them. His shoulders shrug and he looks down.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve known better when you said things were different for you. Of course they are. Unfairly so.”
I pull my lips together into a small but strained smile. The heaviness of it all doesn’t go away, but there is relief. The irritation caused by today’s events is subsiding. “That’s not for you to apologize for. Don’t worry too much.”
