ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ was discovered at fourteen years old, being praised as a musical prodigy by the media ever since. His fame had only increased until now. At nineteen old, he's the most remarkable musician of his age, and he's only getting started. At...
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ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ
Oakley's father was not a man of many words, I'd discovered. When Oakley introduced us, he let me shake his hand and he smiled at me. I told him it was nice to meet him but stumbled over my words at least twice before they came out right.
Oakley was about to say something, but surprisingly, Mr. Carrillo interrupted him.
"Did you get the groceries I asked you for?" he asked, and Oakley's face twisted in a sheepish smile.
"I'm sorry," he said. His dad shook his head and his eyebrows dropped, revealing a crease between his graying eyebrows. He then released a string of words in what I assumed to be Spanish. It was the most I'd heard him talk. He at one point pointed at me, and only then did I realize he'd switched back to English.
"...supposed to feed you with no ingredients?" He looked at me, crossing his arms, and this wave of nausea came over me. Was he angry? "What's your favorite food? Do you like stir-fry? Or I could bake some salmon, or maybe you like pasta? How about spaghetti?"
I smiled, relieved that he wasn't actually as angry as he'd appeared to be.
"I eat anything, Mr. Carrillo," I replied, but the man shook his head and he turned his eyes back to his son before saying something in Spanish again.
Oakley rolled his eyes and then looked at me as he held in a laugh.
"Dad, stop, he doesn't speak Spanish."
"They always say 'I eat anything' and then they end up not liking it."
"Probably because they aren't expecting you to make blue cheese salad as a side with you demanding them to try the moldy cheese."
"I love blue cheese in salads," I said, smiling as I finally felt like I had something to say.
"See? He likes anything. Just send me the list and I'll get it."
Oakley held out his hand to me, and I took it.
"We'll be right back."
•••
"I hate grocery shopping," Oakley said, grabbing a shopping cart. "It's never just casually strolling around. There's always someone looking."
"You could just order."
"Yeah, but my dad says he doesn't want me to turn into some mirrey."
