Page 77 of The Invisible Roommate

“Everybody remain calm,” Sergeant Adye announced. “The winds have reached dangerous speeds and downed some live power lines outside. We are now shelterin’ in place in the library, since there are no windows there.”

“Please move in a slow, orderly fashion,” said the school’s principal, who was doing a poor job of not sounding panicked. “Thank you.”

A tropical storm portended different risks to islanders than it did to mainlanders. While the partygoers all marched toward the library, Gerard assumed they were worried about their crab shanties, their homes, their heirlooms, their boats. So much could be lost in a single violent act of nature. He felt for them, even as he knew he needed to protect Emory from them.

Gerard spoke to Sergeant Adye while Emory stood behind him. He told him that “his cousin” was feeling sick and that he needed to be taken home. “Didn’t you hear? Dangerous. Downed power lines. Everybody to the library.”

Surprisingly, the mood in the library wasn’t all dour. While the chatter had a distinct edge to it, nobody was whispering like the space usually demanded. Tables were pushed together to plop the rest of the drinks and snacks on. Children found spots among the stacks and munched on fun-size candies from their pails or knapsacks.

The only concerning thing about the scene was how many people were removing their masks. Gerard led Emory to the farthest corner and, in a show of solidarity, kept his own mask on.

One of the parents suggested they all gather to share ghost stories, so everybody moved and formed a circle. In the center, people stood their flashlights on their ends. The differently colored bulbs fused into a single shaft of orangish-yellow light slicing upward like a makeshift fire that painted the ceiling with a brilliant glow.

Even though there was no real fire, and the heat had kicked off when the power went out, Gerard grew sweaty under his mask. All he could think about was getting Emory out of there, a goal that thrummed beneath his skin. How long would they have to keep up this charade before they could escape?

One by one, people passed around a costume wizard wand as a talking stick. The ghost stories shared ranged in length and general spookiness. While they served as a good distraction, the storm only intensified, if the pounding on the roof was anything to go by.

As the night wore on, restlessness infected the room.

Emory, on the other hand, seemed unexpectedly calm beside him. Gerard wished he could lift his mask and dissect his expression—an expression that would finally be visible. An expression he loved.

In the bathroom, immediately after he told Emory he loved him, he worried it might come across as if he’d withheld the word until he could see him, but an unconscious part of him had already scrounged up the word and scribed it on the note.

“Who would like to go next?” asked Kellen. Beside him, Angie sat, bouncing Kellen Jr. in her arms. For a baby, he barely made a peep, almost as if he were a prop for Angie’s costume as a mama bear.

Eyes shifted around when nobody volunteered right away.

Gerard’s eyes landed on Emory.

Sitting in the library, in a circle full of costumed people, the air bright with sugar and sweat from those too young to know the virtues of deodorant, Gerard couldn’t pinpoint the moment he’d fallen for Emory Griffin. Maybe it was all the moments strung together in a daisy chain.

It didn’t really matter.

All that mattered was that he loved him.

And what Emory did next made Gerard love him even more.

Emory

“I’ll go.” Emory’s raised hand shook in the air.

Underneath his mask, Emory felt Gerard’s gaze intensify. He focused instead on the fortifying love that seemed to undulate in the air between them. Love was power. Power that fueled his courage.

Whispers passed around the circle. Strange looks roved his way. They didn’t deter him.

In the room, he was the elephant. There was no way of knowing how long the storm would last, but if he spent several more hours hiding under this mask and costume, he’d sweat himself to death. The library was cramped with bodies and books. Books full of stories. After the previous night, it was time to tell his.

The costume wand got passed to him. In his hands, it was an enchanted baton of truth.

“This is a story about a mysterious, menacing invisible monster…”

“Em—I mean, Cousin Cameron.” Gerard’s voice was heavy with warning.

Emory shrugged it off. If he was going to earn Gerard Wells’s love, he needed to do so with a clean slate. No more running. No more hiding.

When he first registered his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he shivered upon not recognizing himself. The longer he’d sat in the circle and listened, the more he realized that he didn’t recognize himself right away, because he was no longer himself. At least not the same version of himself that had hauled his belongings in trash bags onto the island for the first time.

Four weeks had changed him. This island had changed him. Science had changed him. Music had changed him. Most of all, Gerard Wells had changed him.