A chorus of “What?” comes from all three of us. In different levels of confusion and disbelief.
She laughs instantly. I want to laugh with her, but a vision of Derek leaning over to compliment Rosie’s gold earrings or joke with her about a TV show sucks the humor out of me.
Without thinking, I say, “No.”
“Bingo.”
The stare-off begins. My sister is way too relaxed and giddy for having said something that sounds ridiculous and sets my skin on fire.
“Uh, if it counts for anything, I’m not interested.” Derek mutters from his seat.
When he was first introduced to the group a few hours ago, I was intimidated by him. Scared of having someone new in my space, and nervous about meeting a person so important to Grant while I’m still building a steady relationship with him.
Derek’s not so bad. After a few games, I started to get settled with the feeling of being around him.
Now, though, after saying he’s not interested in Rosie, I just think he’s crazy. And I’m weirdly grateful.
“That’s an insane statement, but okay.” Billie mumbles through a piece of popcorn she pulls out of Rosalie’s bucket.
Across the table, Derek awkwardly chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Don’t get me wrong, she seems great. But I recently got out of a really bad relationship and…” He glances at Grant. It dawns on me that my older brother and his girlfriend are the glue piecing this group together. “I’m not in the head space to entertain anything right now. I’m just trying to figure out how to have friends again.”
He looks at Billie and I, a boyish smile portraying enough for me to feel another layer of relaxed around him.
He doesn’t really know what he’s doing in a social setting like this. I can understand that. It makes me feel closer to Derek, in a way.
Maybe it’s easier for me to say that, after knowing he has no interest in deep brown eyes or hedge funds explained in superhero terms.
“Well, that’s great to hear. Because she definitely has a thing for Locke.”
Her words crawl their way under my skin, pressing into my nerves and setting my heart rate skyrocketing.
“Why would you say that?”
“Are you serious?” Blinking, my little sister flicks the popcorn bucket and shakes her head. “You brought her one snack and the girl nearly fell to her knees.”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
“It’s really not.” She looks at Grant. “Back me up here.”
His hands fly up, head shaking. “Can’t put my two cents in until I cross check with Lily, sorry.”
Billie’s eyes roll back for what feels like the twentieth time today. “God, Grant, you’re so whipped. It’s disgusting andadorable.” He doesn’t argue. Just shrugs and smiles. “Locke and Rosie will be at that point soon. They’re halfway there, I would guess.”
“What are youtalkingabout?”
I’d love to know. I search my brain for what part of Rosalie’s place in my life feels half fulfilled. Nothing clicks.
There are an infinite number of things I’d still like to learn about my roommate. What makes her feel better when she’s sick, how she spends the holidays with her family, what commercial from her childhood sticks out the most in her brain. That’s the sort of thing Rosie would analyze for a lifetime.
Technically, our time together is about a quarter filled. By the end of this school year, the two of us will have no obligation to see each other in the mornings and wish one another good night. Saturdays won’t be guaranteed for a marathon on a couch, accompanied by Ghost’s sleeping figure and the sounds of downtown Boston sliding in through the breaks.
Rosie in theory, should be half. Half of a dorm and half of a friendship.
She doesn’tfeelthat way. In every way I perceive her, Rosalie is whole. An entire heart of passion, a full representation of friendship—a whole home.
My sister doesn’t give me the answer I’m looking for. She slaps a hand on her forehead instead, and sighs. “You cannot be this oblivious.”
“There’s nothing to be oblivious to.”
