Page 17 of My Rose

“You don’t know him,” I replied quickly, pointing to her with my fork.And, apparently, neither do I.Her blush faded as I turnedto face my grandfather. “Why do you say it can only be from one family?”

My grandmother answered for him, “Well, sweet pea, no one has that kind of money around here unless you’re an Andrews.”

I pushed a small bite of eggs into my mouth. “How is it you know about his family, but I don’t?”

My grandfather piped up, spinning his spatula toward me in circles. “How many times do we suggest you watch the news with us, Rose?”

“His family is in the news?” I hated the news. The news always had stories about death, fires, and child neglect or abandonment.No, thank you.

They both nodded. “Not all the time, and mostly only when the business talk starts. But yes, their company is one of the Fortune 500 and, now that you mention his name, I slightly recall him being named as a…what was it again, dear?” my grandmother asked, then took a sip of coffee.

“He is the sole inheritor to half the company.”Well,thatsounds like a lot of pressure.“An heir apparent.”

“Isn’t that mostly for royalty?” I asked.

“Honey, withthatkind of money and the control they have over the market, they might as well be royalty.” I swallowed the thick lump in my throat. It was shocking that I somehow never knew that about him, being that we lived in Shuster Springs—where the gossip was plenty, and the streets were small. But no amount of money would change how he changed after acting like a friend. I wasn’t raised to value money over personality, and that wasn’t about to startnow. He could have been the Prince of England for all I cared. He was still an asshole, and I didn’t regret slamming his car door even if it did cost a million dollars.

“Are you feeling okay, Rose? You look a little pale,” my grandmother pointed out as she pushed the salt to me. “Maybe more salt?”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” I went to push out of my seat, but my grandmother’s hand came flying toward my arm.

“You know, more friends could be good for you, dear. Maybe he isn’t the friend you were looking for, but someone would be better than what you have now.”

I narrowed my eyes. My grandparents never liked August. Every time he came over, they made themselves scarce. My grandmother once confided rather loudly to my grandfather that August gave her the ‘heebie-jeebies,’which I chose to block out of my memories until just now. “August is a good friend. You guys should give him a chance.”

My grandfather pushed my seat closer to the table and slid not-so-browned hashbrowns onto my plate. “Finish eating first, Rose. I’d rather hear how Minnie is doing. She was always such a wonderful girl.”

So I sat. I talked about my friend they did approve of, how she messaged me whenever she could, but lately she’d been busy so she seemed kind of distant. I couldn’t blame her, but I did miss her.

After breakfast, my grandfather went to work on one of his cars while my grandmother gardened in the backyard and I went to my bedroom to call August before leaving for work. He answered on the fourth ring.

“Hey.” Fabric shuffled as the sounds of a girl’s voice in the background came in quietly through the phone.

I sucked in a breath, trying to ease the slight ache in my chest. “Hey. Sorry for bothering you, if you’re busy. But, can you come to the graveyard with me sometime this week? I can walk or take the bus if you can’t give me a ride, but I’d like you there.”

“Why?” He asked, his tone clipped.

I rubbed my jaw as it hung open. He’d known me for how long, and…you know what? Of course, he didn’t remember. How stupid of me. “It’s the anniversary of their death soon.”

“Oh. Right. That’s all, right? Nothing new?”

I scoffed. “Nope.” It was hard for dead people to have anything new to begin with.

“Okay.” Silence stretched uncomfortably and the girl’s voice faded as if he moved to talk elsewhere. “Look, I can’t. I’m sort of really busy this week.”

Yep. The whole week he was magically busy. He didn’t even have a job, or classes, because he was against starting college until hefound himself.It shouldn’t have felt like the slap in the face that it did, because maybe he really was busy. But it did.

I breathed out my frustration, trying to reel in his words as truthful, though I knew they weren’t. “Okay. It’s okay. I’d like to hang out sometime soon, though.” The girl giggled in the background and the swishing sounds of what I assumed were blankets or clothing only made my chest tighten. He must've walked back to the girl—who could’ve been Briggs’ ex for all I knew—after turning me down.

I sat on the floor, lifting the edge of the area rug to trace the initials carved into the floorboards. “Sure,” he replied finally. “Maybe next week sometime after the bonfire?” The only thing on his agenda would be maybe Thanksgiving, but his family never did much beyond the few staple menu items in a small family setting, just like mine did.

“Yeah, sure. I’m free.”

The silence stretched, my fingers moving over the fadingM+V.“Oh, I wanted to play a new song for you. See what you think. Do you think your grandparents will mind if you ask them to make that shepherd’s pie stuff again when I come? Shit is fire.”

“Um…” I thought about asking my grandmother to cook a special meal for the friend she didn’t approve of but shrugged my shoulders as if August could see my reaction. “Yeah, that would be great, I’d love to hear it. I’ll ask my grandmother, but she might be at one of her mahjong games.” And if she wasn’t, I’d be pushing her out the door because there was no way in hell I was going to ask her to make a special dinner for August after she just voiced her opinion so clearly. It would be disrespectful.

“Awesome, see you soon Rosebud.” I cringed as I said goodbye. It was bad enough being called ‘Rosie’ by almost everyone who didn’t know me. August’s occasional nickname used to sound cute for the first few years when we were younger. But those years had come and gone. I couldn’t recall how many times I told him to stop, but he never listened. At least he saved the more embarrassing nicknames for phone calls or whenever we managed to be alone. I wondered if that was because it would make us seem more like a couple—the very thing he tried to avoid when he refused to lend me a jacket and stood me up for people he thought were better than me.

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