Page 14 of The Invisible Roommate

“I’m invisible. I’ll be hard to catch,” Emory said.

“I’m rich. I’ll be hard to catch, too.” Gerard crossed his arms over his chest, stalemate achieved. Even if he didn’t really believe his money could protect him. Especially not from grumpy invisible men with boundary issues. “Wait, you’re the unseeable figure everybody keeps posting about on the Knock-Knock Neighbor app—joyriding in golf carts and stealing food and vandalizing the signs?”

“No comment.”

Gerard couldn’t help but laugh at the pointless PR jargon. “You’re invisible. What’s stopping you from getting as far away from here as possible?”

“You ask too many questions,” Emory huffed, obviously avoiding the topic.

Gerard shook his head. “My dad would say the same thing.”

“Didn’t he ever tell you ‘Curiosity killed the cat’?” Emory asked.

“If you were going to kill me, I have a feeling you’d have done it to me in my sleep already,” Gerard said, easing into this conversation, retreating from the ledge of fright. “I’m sure you have plenty of tools and ways to do so in here. Speaking of, what’s with all the late-night experimentation? You’re already invisible, or was that not your goal?”

Once again, Emory’s silence spoke for him.

“You’re stuck like this, aren’t you?” Gerard asked, fairly certain he already knew the answer. He wondered, if he could see Emory’s eyes, would they be narrowed with rage that a pretty-boy pop star like him had figured it out?

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he hissed, ire turned up a notch.

Gerard shook his head, unmoved. “No, I think I do. I scrolled back quite a ways on that app Regina told me about. You were being chased. This is how you decided to avoid the police? Turn yourself invisible?”

It seemed a bit extreme. There had to be more to the story.

More silence from Emory; more palpable tension filled the air, too. It took on a physicality, like it was caressing Gerard’s face. It almost bordered on … sexual?

That couldn’t be right. Gerard was stressed, and his imagination was running wild because an invisible man was sitting in front of him.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Gerard dared.

“I can’t tell you you’re wrong,” Emory admitted finally. A tsunami of self-pity that could’ve drowned Gerard poured out in those words.

Gerard shook his head, recalling the holy water and rosary from ten minutes before. Emory was no vengeful spirit, just a sad man stuck with the unintended consequences of his own actions. Gerard wished he couldn’t relate so easily.

Whatever had gone down with Emory on Iping, Regina didn’t seem too rattled by it. If he had killed a man, it would’ve been on the news or in the island forum. Perhaps everyone was making something out of nothing. Shouldn’t Emory have a chance to share his side of the story?

No matter the case, to have accomplished a feat like this, Emory must have been astoundingly smart, which intrigued Gerard enough to want to know more about the mysterious disappearing man.

Safety mostly assured, he said, “Have we moved past the threats of violence and roughhousing?”

All he got in response was a rash pfft.

Gerard pressed on. “While I’m certainly not going to leave, I may consider letting you stay here and continue working within reason.”

“What’s it going to cost me?” Emory asked, sounding like someone who had been on the short end of the bargaining stick more times than he could count. The robe bunched as if Emory had balled up by pulling his knees into his chest.

“Not much,” Gerard said kindly. “Just your story.”

Emory sighed, shifted, and then said, “Fine, but it might take all night. And consider yourself warned: It’s not a happy one.”

StepTwo

Do Background Research

An Incomplete History of Emory Griffin

8Emory