Page 36 of My Rose

I rolled my eyes, my finger tracing theMas I wondered what my mom, Margot, would have to say about the two men in my life.When had August become annoying?I shrugged it off, thinking perhaps I just hated all men at the moment. Moving onto theV, I couldn’t help but imagine my father had a nickname I didn’t know about, or maybe it was a friend from long ago.

Rose: Yeah, tomorrow is fine. Come over after work, around four.

It was also an hour after my grandparents would leave for their weekly games night. I didn’t want to mention food or remind him that he’d asked for a home-cooked meal from people who didn’t care about him, so their absence would do all the work for me in a more polite way.

August: Awesome. See you soon, Rosie-Toesie.

That was possibly the worst version of his dumbass nicknames I’d been subjected to yet.

Flipping the phone face-down, I lay flat on the area rug around my bed, staring at those two letters. Maybe asking about it wouldn’t be so hard if every time I mentioned my mother or the fact that my room was hers once caused my grandparents to be sad for the rest of the day. I sighed and let the rug fall back over the flooring. Maybe it should all just stay in the past, like my relationships with the two assholes I managed to get myself between.

Work dragged. Sucked, actually. Every time the doors opened, my heart rate kicked up as my head swung to see who’d come in. And every time, I was disappointed that it wasn’t a certain tall, green-eyed, tattooed man walking through. I don’t know why I thought he’d show up at my job that he probably had no idea I had in the first place, but I stupidly did. Thegood morningtext I received from him earlier remained unanswered, and on my break, Iwas foolishly tempted to read the other two messages he sent hours after I didn’t reply. But I stuck to my guns and left them unread.

“You good, honey?” Janice asked. She was an older woman who helped me bag the groceries I rang up, and as another few items went by my register, her grey brows drew together, looking at me like I was some sort of hurt animal. “You look like…well, I didn’t want to be the one to say it, but you look terrible, sweetheart.”

I threw on a fake smile. “Thanks, Janice.” I finished ringing up some man’s groceries, watching him fumble for his wallet as he eyed his bags and counted something on his fingers. He probably didn’t realize the ten items he picked up were going to cost over a hundred dollars.

“Did you sleep at all? Late night studying?” She held out the bags for the man, and after his transaction went through successfully, he bolted from the door, all ten items in tow.

I nodded my head, rolling my lips in. “Yeah. Finals are coming up.” It was only a partial lie. Finalswerecoming up, but I wasn’t studying for them. I couldn’t focus on anything last night after Briggs didn’t show. The doors opened, and my eyes darted to the woman pushing a walker through the door. I sighed and pressed my back into the register.

“Oh no, sweetie. At least we get off in a few minutes, right?”

I nodded again, still staring at the door.

She positioned herself in front of me. “Taking the bus today?”

I caught myself before nodding again, realizing she was about to offer me a ride home in her car that reeked of cigarette smoke and cats. My head ended up bobbing around, halfway between ayesandano. “I’ve uh…got a ride. Just remembered.” Every lie I told was only making me think of Briggs not showing up for our date. It would’ve made me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much to think about. Maybe those two messages—

No.Don’t check it.

I pushed my phone back into my pocket, where it needed to stay.

I waited for Janice to leave the parking lot after we clocked out. Her car screeched away, dragging the horrible smell along with it as she puffed on a cigarette through her rolled-down window.

The entire walk home, I pulled out my phone and hovered my thumb over the notifications—two more messages. Two more times he’d try to lie again or talk his way out of it, no doubt lying about wherever he was when he stood me up. Two more reasons I needed to keep my distance and forget about Briggs Andrews.

August’s sedan was parked in my driveway by the time I made it home. It was kind of surprising that the thought of calling him for a ride hadn’t crossed my mind once.

“Hey, Rosie.” His guitar case was slung over his back with a boho strap, unbrushed hair covered by a beanie, and a cigarette in hand only adding to his whole get-up. He took a final puff and stomped the butt out on my driveway.

I bent down and picked it up. “My grandfather really hates when you leave these out here, you know.”

He shrugged. “Tell him I can send someone out to clean it up.”

My key jammed into the lock on the door. “That’s not the point, August.”

“God, Rosie. Don’t be such a prude. I’ll pick it up next time, don’t worry.” For someone who looked like he cared about the Earth, he sure as hell polluted it a lot.

I took off my shoes and left the door open behind me as I threw away the disgusting butt in my hand. At least his car didn’t smell like them like Janice’s did, but the rest of him…well, it wasn’t the citrus smell I was starting to really like.

“I’ll go set up in your room. Bring me a glass of water, please, Rosie. My voice is a little crackly today.” His hand scraped down the length of his stubbled, thin neck.

“Sure,” I muttered beside the trash can, irritation seeping from my pores. Listlessly, I got two glasses and made my way to my bedroom, where August was propped on my bed with his shoes tossed in the corner. He patted the bed, and I plopped down next to him. Our shoulders touched as he settled in with his guitar across his stomach, and I shifted in the other direction.

“Ready? I’ve been working on this for a few weeks now.”

“Can’t wait,” I replied. He grinned, missing my lackluster response, then took a pick from his mouth and started to play. I closed my eyes and leaned back on my elbows, trying to hide my face. The strings he was hitting, the chords he was singing, and that rasp…it was all wrong.

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