The Roommate by Kiersten Modglin (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

Sharing a wall with the door I’d just entered from was a tall dresser with a few belts, a coffee mug, a half-full bottle of vodka, two empty bags of Twizzlers, and a single bottle of cologne lying on top. I ran a finger over the cap. It was nearly full, but unmistakably mine. Had he taken my cologne? Why hadn’t I noticed?

I stepped over a pair of jeans that had been turned inside out, making my way toward the door beside the bed, where I knew his bathroom would be, as our rooms were mirror images of each other. As I reached for it, I glanced at his bed, at the indention where his head would’ve rested against the pillow last night.

There was something eerie about being in the apartment without Elias. I tried to picture him here. In this room. Living out his days behind the computer screen.

Under the comforter of his bed, something caught my eye, and I took a step closer to the bed, cocking my head to the side as I tried to make sense of it. With a cautious hand, I reached for the edge of the blanket, tossing it back.

Sure enough, the white shirt I’d been looking for two days ago was lying in his bed, crumpled and sweat stained as if he’d been wearing it. But why? And why was it in his bed? I picked it up cautiously.

“What are you doing?” I spun around, the shirt gripped in my hand. Elias was standing behind me, a white plastic sack of candy slung over his forearm. He looked at the shirt in my hand, then at the toothbrush. “Why are you in my room?” It was the first time I’d ever seen him look angry, his nostrils flaring and forehead wrinkling into a scowl.

“Why do you have my shirt?”

“I borrowed it for your party,” he said simply. “Before you told me I couldn’t come. I don’t have any nice clothes.”

“No, I was missing this before the party.”

“Well, then I guess I borrowed it before. Does it matter?”

“It wasn’t yours to take! You didn’t even ask me.”

“You were busy. I didn’t think you’d mind. Is it a big deal?” He nodded toward the toothbrush. “What are you doing in my room in the first place? Why didn’t you ask me if you could come in?”

“I did,” I said firmly, then changed my tone slightly. I did still need to borrow something from him, after all. “I mean, I knocked. You didn’t answer. I needed to borrow toothpaste.”

He walked past me, opening his bathroom door and walking back out seconds later with a tube of cinnamon-flavored toothpaste still in the box. “Keep it. I have extra.”

“I just need a little bit.”

“I’m weird about germs,” he said, though from the look of his room, that was a lie. “Just keep it.”

I tucked it under my arm. “Did you borrow my cologne, too?”

His gaze zipped to the bottle of cologne. “No, that was a Christmas present from a few years ago. I rarely use it. Do you use the same kind?”

“Why does the room smell like it, then?”

“I sprayed it this morning to cover up the vomit smell,” he said, running his shoe over a pen on the hardwood. “It was rank when I woke up, which is why I left to get cleaning supplies.” He gestured to the second bag in his hands, which I could now see contained disinfectant and rags.

He stared at me as if it were the most reasonable explanation, but it just didn’t make sense. “Why was my shirt in your bed, then?”

He furrowed his brow. “How should I know? I probably laid it there when I was planning to get dressed, and then I forgot it was there.”

“But it’s crumpled and sweaty.”

“I sweat when I sleep, Wes. What are you implying? You’re acting crazy.”

“Were you wearing my shirt, Elias? And my cologne? And…and trying to take my job last night, my friends?” I furrowed my brow as the questions filled my mind. It was all too strange to be a coincidence, wasn’t it? “What are you doing? Why are you doing this?”

“Oh, yeah. Fine, you caught me.” He held his hands up in mock defeat, the white bag swinging wildly as he did. “I put your shirt on and spritzed myself with your cologne, and I lay in bed and pretended to be you because you’re just so cool, Wes. Slowly but surely I’m going to copy everything you do until we’re the exact same person. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be you? It’s the only reason I invited you here… To learn more about you and take over your life, which is amazing, by the way. You’re really on top of the world.” He pulled his pants out from his waist, glancing down. “Don’t ask me where your favorite boxers are.” He batted his eyelashes at me playfully, letting out a laugh.

“It’s not funny. Is that what you’re doing? Is this all some kind of prank? Because if it is, I swear, I’ll—”

“Calm down, man. Has anyone ever told you you’re a little paranoid? It’s kind of intense…” He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “Anyway, this has been fun, but I need to get the room cleaned so I can get to work. I have an appointment in a few hours. Do you need anything else?” He held out his hand, gesturing that I should leave. As if I was the intruder. As if I’d weaseled my way into his life and ruined everything.

I was half tempted to lie down on his bed, refusing to leave as he’d done to me on my first night, but staying in his presence was significantly worse than leaving, even with all the questions burning in my mind, so instead, I sulked away, making my way back to my bedroom. I had more important things to worry about, like saving my job—by some miracle—and getting the hell out of