"Why do men decide to consume food in such an unhuman way?" My face recoils in pure disgust. Tonight I'm staying at the Ro'meaves', but it's not for Garroth nor Vylad. There's more than one Ro'meave. "That single pizza was devoured by them within 30 seconds. I was afraid they'd eat my hand if I even reached for a napkin."
Kandi shrugs, throwing her purse onto her bed without a single care in the world. It bounces up and closer to her pillows. I sit down, placing my own purse down next to me. "I wish I could say that wasn't normal," she comments. Her sweatshirt falls to the floor without a single care in the world. The name "Ro'meave" half covered and staring at the ceiling. "But after living in a household of boys, I can only say it's true."
My eyes focus on the word "Ro'meave." I don't know why. It's something I can't break my eyes away from. I pull my own sweatshirt off, looking down at "Zvahl." My hands grip onto the fabric, and Kandi looks over at me. She's clearly confused. I don't blame her. I'm confused by my actions too.
"What's it like being a Ro'meave?" She eyes me skeptically. This is a question that I don't ask. A question we don't touch on. What's the point? It's a messed up topic, so I don't know what came over me to ask it. "Oh, u-um, I don't know what I asked that."
She picks up the sweatshirt she catches me looking at, holding it up in the air and looking over her last name. Admiring? Of course not. Just looking. I can see her eyes trace over each letter, and she shakes her head before tossing her sweatshirt towards me. "Give me yours."
My arm is hesitant as I reach it out. She grabs onto it, eyeing the back of it once more. "Zvahl," she reads out. "Sometimes that's a name I want over Ro'meave, and it isn't for marriage. Any last name, really. Other than my own."
Kandi has a mind of her own and slips the sweatshirt over her head, commenting how it has a strange mixture of the smell of perfume and cologne. I stole this sweatshirt from Laurance this afternoon before the game. I didn't want to wear my own.
She looks in the mirror and turns to see the name on the backside. Kandi's eyes dart towards me, and I know in that moment there's no escaping this conversation. Is she trying to teach me a lesson?
I grab onto her sweatshirt and walk to her. She eyes the fabric in my hand before instructing me to put it on. I'm forced to standing in an angle, the name present in the mirror.
"How do you feel wearing that?"
"I feel like I do with Vylad's sweatshirts on. it feels normal. I smell like you."
She shakes her head. How is my answer wrong? She asked a question, and I answered with the truth. How was there a right answer beside honesty?
"Imagine you're walking around with that name on your back. It isn't a friend's. It's yours. Sure, there's a good reputation to fall back on, and you'll never have to worry about money because you have a trust fund set in place, but you're stuck playing a roll you didn't choose."
The name suddenly leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Magazines, newspapers, articles. So many things written about this last name.
"Being forced to continue the family tradition of taking over the company. Some kiss your ass because of what you can do. Others despise you because of what family you were born into. You can't do anything to dampen your reputation or see it has to be fixed before it's too late. Compare that to the Zvahl name."
I didn't mean for it to go this far. I didn't mean to insult her or come across as finding one name superior to the other. I should've kept my mouth shut.
The lump in my throat makes me swallow in older to talk properly. My mouth is dry. I can't help but lick my lips. "The Zvahl name is a good name brought up by a man and his three children. It. . . um. . . I don't want this on anymore."
There's a sudden flair of anxiety that rises within me. I reach for the bottom of the sweatshirt and pull it off over my head. It falls onto the floor, and I take a step away from it for an escape. I can't help but feel a sense of loathe towards the clothing article.
"I can't do that," Kandi sighs, sitting down on her bed. She looks at her hand covered sleeves with a frown. "You know that everybody thinks you'll end up with Vylad, right?"
I look at her. I can't help but slowly nod my head in response. It'd be a lie if I said there wasn't a period of time where I even believed it.
Vylad and I are compatible in so many ways. . . I can't help but think how strange it may be for others to hear it didn't happen.
Maybe this is why Garroth seems so threatened by my relationship with Vylad. Because of that idea.
"I can't make that happen. You know that's not how it works," I comment, sighing. I hand my head before sitting on the bed next to her. "What if Vylad and I don't happen? What if I end up with someone like. . . Garroth?"
She lifts an eyebrow. It doesn't appear that Kandi has to put much thought into her words. "I love my brother, but he's too much of a player. You're sweet, innocent. You aren't like that. He'd just end up breaking your heart, and that would ruin all relationships connected to it. Laurance wouldn't approve of that relationship."
I stare at her. My heart drops into my stomach. Now Garroth and I really can't tell anybody of our relationship. This isn't what I want. . .
"You'd disapprove too, wouldn't you?"
"I didn't want to admit it, but I would. You're my best friend, and that's my brother. I understand why Laurance would be against it."
The door opens. We look over to see Garroth, and he makes his usual announcement that dinner will be finished. Kandi nods and leaves the room, but I can't help but linger behind staring at the sweatshirt.
"Al, what's the matter?" Garroth asks, taking a step in and shutting the door slightly.
"Garroth, Kandi disapproves. You think Laurance would disapprove. I don't want to keep this a secret anymore, but now we have to."
"Al-"
"Let's go. It's time for dinner."
