Page 22 of Rook

Beyond the kitchen was a long, narrow space with a little couch across from a small TV.

Directly past that was the bedroom, which was cut off from the living space by little bookshelves, not a full wall.

Just like at the clubhouse, his bed was made, had a frame, and decent linens.

“All pretty self-explanatory,” he said, waving around.

“I like it,” I decided.

“You don’t have to be nice,” Rook said, running a self-conscious hand through his hair.

“I’m not. It’s cozy. Though, those bookshelves are sad.”

There were only three pieces of decor on them. One was a replica of Johnny 5 fromShort Circuitmade out of building blocks.Another was, randomly, one of those big candles with three wicks. And, finally, he had an actualbowlfull of condoms.

Catching me looking, Rook let out a little laugh. “That’s kind of there to fuck with Nancy,” he admitted. “She flips the entire apartment when she comes. I get a kick out of her embarrassment of digging through a bowl of condoms.”

“Hey, it seems like she’s earned a little embarrassment. But maybe that shouldn’t be on display if you’re supposed to be in a serious relationship now.”

“Good point. I’ll leave some in the nightstand and send the rest back with you to the clubhouse. Maybe you can find something to put in there instead. Girly shit. And some pictures and frames.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Go on and snoop around,” Rook invited. “It would be good if you know where the forks and mugs are, and everything like that. I’m gonna run to the store to grab an extra towel holder and towels. Anything else you can think of that I could get to show that someone else is around here now?”

“Um. An extra toothbrush, maybe some tampons for under the sink, oh, and a contacts case. I wear contacts,” I said, waving at my eyes. “That’s probably something you should know.”

“Got it. Need me to pick up anything else? Something you might need for the clubhouse?”

“I think I’m good,” I said, used to surviving on the bare minimum. I could buy myself stuff once I started working. He was already spending a lot of money on me.

“Okay. Get to know your way around. I won’t be more than an hour.”

With that, he was gone.

And I did exactly what he said.

I snooped.

I opened every drawer and cabinet.

Then I tested my memory, trying to guess where the plates were or what was in the medicine cabinet and on what shelf. Someone who was sleeping over often would know that kind of thing.

I also scattered traces of myself around: a hair tie here, a claw clip there, a pair of earrings on the nightstand.

Eventually, I would drop off a sweater, some cosmetics in the bathroom, all those little signs that someone slept over and needed their essentials.

In the bedroom, in addition to a TV, I found an old-school five-CD changer. And a tower featuring a bunch of CDs.

It was the most personal thing I’d come across in his apartment. Most of the CDs had little stickers from a secondhand record store that I’d passed on my way into Shady Valley. And for just a moment, I imagined Rook making his way up and down crowded aisles of music, trying to decide which albums he liked enough to keep in his personal collection.

He had a diverse collection—everything from Sinatra and Billy Joel to pop-punk and emo from the aughts. But he definitely seemed to prefer rock and metal.

I wondered if he occasionally blasted some of that while Nancy was ripping his life apart, just to get a rise out of her.

I grabbed a CD and stuck it in the stereo, never being comfortable with silence, and Rook’s apartment was a little too quiet for me.

Finished snooping, I went ahead and moved some of the condoms to the nightstand and stuck the rest in my purse to bring back to the clubhouse and store for him there.

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