In Your Room (6 page)

Before Charlie was awake enough to remember where he was, he felt the soft lavender sheets rubbing against his skin, wrapped around his body like a cocoon. He breathed in their smell, a blend of spring flowers and fresh air, like they’d been hung outside to dry.

He opened his eyes and adjusted to the brightness of the room, which was what had eventually woken him up. He’d left the window and curtain open so that the cat could come in, but it appeared that he’d taken off at some point after Charlie had fallen asleep. It had been kind of soothing drifting off to the sound of his meows.

The mattress was so comfortable it was hard to get up. He lay there for a few minutes, gazing at the collage of photos on the wall facing him. He still didn’t know which one was Molly, since her Facebook picture featured three girls, a pretty blonde, an Indian girl, and another girl whose face was partially covered by her dark hair. The same three girls were plastered all over the corkboard.

He got up and walked over to get a closer look, pulling on a pair of
sweatpants as he went. There were a few fashion magazine cutouts pinned up too, but they seemed long forgotten, buried beneath the photographs. Each of the girls seemed so different that if it hadn’t been for the dozens of snapshots of them together, Charlie would never have pegged them as friends.

The blonde stood out most; not because there were more pictures of her than anyone else, but she was as close to objectively hot as anyone could get, with her long, wavy hair, tall, slim build, pronounced features, and smooth, tanned skin. She seemed to know it too, the way she mugged for the camera with her pouty lips and visible cleavage, like she just might get discovered in her own room. He figured she must be Molly, since she seemed like the type to assemble her own wall of fame.

The Indian girl was also pretty, but in a more subdued way, and the girl with dark hair seemed just as elusive up on the wall as she did in the profile picture, like she didn’t want to be fully seen. In almost every picture she looked off to the side or wore sunglasses, which only added to her mystery.

“Charlieeeeee,” Mia squealed, followed by the familiar rumbling of four galloping footsteps and the twins’ thunderous entrance into his room. Mia, chased by Heather, stormed in first, crashing right into him.

“How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t come in unless you knock first,” he snapped on impact. “Out! Same rules apply in L.A.”

“But you have a visitor!” Mia announced, barging in to inspect his room. “And we heard you, so you weren’t even asleep.”

“Right. And are you the visitor?” he asked, watching Heather follow her in.

“Actually,
I
am,” a voice called out from the hall.

Charlie opened the door wider, startled to find the blonde from the collage standing in front of him.

“Oh, hey,” he said awkwardly, wondering why Molly was there and not in Boulder. “Uh, can I…help you?”

“I’m Celeste,” she said, extending her hand. “Your mom let me in and said I could come up. I live down the street and Molly forgot a couple of things.”

“Oh,” Charlie said, surprised that he had gotten it wrong. “I thought this was your room.” Celeste looked at him, perplexed. “You’re all over the wall of fame,” he explained, pointing to exhibit A.

“Molly and I have been best friends since we were little,” Celeste explained, marching into the room. “This is Molly,” she said, pointing to the unassuming dark-haired girl, the last person to whom Charlie had thought the room, or, more specifically the collage, would have belonged.

Celeste surveyed the room with her hands on her hips and her chest jutting out of her miniature tank top.

Charlie could tell this girl was a handful from the photos alone, but her entrance confirmed it. There was no disputing that she was hot, though, even if her boobs did stand at attention like that, at right angles to the rest of her body.

Real or fake?
he wondered. He was beginning to understand what Teddy meant.

“There you are!” Heather said to Celeste, pointing her out on the wall.

“And there too,” Mia added. “And there, and everywhere. Are you a model or something?” she asked Celeste.

“Hardly,” Celeste snorted. “But thanks, honey. You’re sweet.”

“What are you guys still doing here? Out!” Charlie said.

“But your room is better!” Heather protested. “We want to trade!”

“You two should come over to my house if you want to see a fabulous
room,” Celeste suggested. She glanced quickly at Charlie. “You should too.”

“Thanks!” the girls said in unison as they ran out giggling.

“I’m sorry about that,” Charlie said. “You don’t need to entertain them.”

“I don’t mind,” Celeste said. “They’re cute.”

“You say that now….” Charlie warned. “So, what do you need?”

“Actually? Her sheets,” Celeste explained.

“Her sheets,” Charlie repeated, processing the request. “You know, we do have sheets in Boulder. It’s not like we live in caves or anything,” he said, even though he sometimes considered it.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Celeste said, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. “I’m only fulfilling a request. And you haven’t even told me your name.”

“Charlie,” he said.

“Mmm. It’s so funny,” she said. “You’re sleeping in Moll’s room, and she’s sleeping in yours.”

“She’s in mine?” he asked. He didn’t know why he felt surprised. No self-respecting person over the age of twelve would choose his sisters’ room over his. Still, his room was so…well…
opposite
of Molly’s.

“Indeed she is, Obi-Wan,” Celeste said, winking at Charlie before walking into the closet.

Charlie felt the flush of red in his cheeks. The
Star Wars
sheets had been his favorite, a birthday gift from his moms when he was eight, but a combination of ten percent nostalgia and ninety percent laziness had led to their active use almost ten years later. He’d never thought about a stranger sleeping on them, or, worse, her hot best friend finding out about it.

Celeste reappeared dressed in a yellow-patterned dress and stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. “What do you think?” she asked. “Too yellow?”

It was definitely yellow, but that wasn’t all he noticed. She twirled around in front of the mirror, causing the skirt to lift up, revealing a glimpse of lace panties underneath.

“Uh, weren’t you looking for sheets?’ he asked, unable to tell if she was hitting on him or if she just flirted with everyone.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she explained, gently punching his arm. “Molly always lets me in here. She gave me permission to borrow stuff all summer. But don’t stress,” she added, reading the expression on Charlie’s face, “I won’t, like, use my key or barge in without knocking or anything.”

“Good to know,” he said, hoping she would drop in again. “I prefer people who knock anyway.”

“Is that so?” she said suggestively, brushing past him on her way toward the door. “So, Charlie, do you have any friends here?” she asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“I think that remains to be seen,” he responded.

“Well, if you’re not too busy, I know of a cool party in the hills on Monday night. I’ll pop by and get you. Eight
P.M.
” Without waiting for a response, she walked back into the hall.

“Aren’t you forgetting the sheets?” he called after her.

“Nope,” she said, opening a hall closet and taking a pile with her before going back downstairs and out the front door.

Molly hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the desk drawer and what might be inside it. She wondered why it was locked—if Charlie had had some weird premonition that she was going to snoop, or if it was just his standard practice to maintain some semblance of privacy. He did have younger sisters, after all.

Everything about his room suggested he didn’t have much of a personality—at least not one Molly would normally find interesting. But there was something compelling about his e-mails, his cute comments, and his confidence that she didn’t expect. Molly wondered what Charlie thought of
her
so far—how she came off to a total stranger, what her room and her belongings said about who she was. She still had no idea what he looked like and hadn’t been able to find a picture of him anywhere.

She stared again at the locked drawer. She had already scoured the room looking for the key, but with no luck. Charlie must have taken it with him.
Breaking into the desk was not an option. Not only would it be taking snooping to a whole new level, but Charlie would know she’d done it as soon as he returned. Celeste would probably have some convincing yet utterly ridiculous plan to cover it up, but Molly didn’t even want to hear it. The drawer was going to have to remain locked for the summer. Even if the suspense killed her.

She was about to get up when the bling of an incoming IM distracted her. It was from Celeste.

Molly already knew the answer, of course, but she wasn’t ready to tell Celeste about her e-mails with Charlie. Not yet anyway.

Molly felt a sinking sense of disappointment. It was stupid, but she’d been hoping that Charlie was hot. If nothing else, at least she’d know that
there was a cute boy out there in the world who liked her enough to write her e-mails.

Molly paused. How much should she say?

It was official. Celeste would laugh if she knew that Molly had actually taken Charlie’s e-mails seriously. It was time to squash whatever silly notions she might have had about Charlie Richards.

• • •