PANIC

Chapter Twelve - ROOK

I watch Ronin drive off and suddenly my stomach is twisting into billions of knots. This is probably a mistake. I have so little confidence in what I’m doing with my life, and now that he’s gone and I’m here all alone, every decision feels like the wrong one.

“You coming inside? Or you just gonna stand outside and cry?”

Ford is over by my bike. He’s wearing jeans and a Shrike Rook t-shirt, which I’m hoping Ronin didn’t notice because that’s weird. “Why are you wearing that shirt? To piss Ronin off?”

He looks down at his shirt, pretending to be surprised. “It’s a blackbird, Rook. It barely looks like you at all.”

And then he flashes me that chin dimple and I laugh. “Save it, you’re a horrible actor. Besides, the blackbird has blue eyes and the fucking shirt says Rook right across the top.”

“Yes, but that’s the name of the bike. This one in fact.” He smiles smugly as he points to my bike.

“Whatever.”

“I have a present for you, come inside.”

Ford doesn’t wait for me to agree or watch to see if I follow, he simply turns and walks off. And even though I know what that means, I follow anyway. It’s not like I really have a choice. I have to go back inside at some point. Might as well do it his way and get a gift out of it. I end up in the great room that connects to the kitchen. Spencer has been cooking all freaking afternoon and it smells awesome. Ford is back at the table flipping through a stack of papers.

“Hmmm,” I mumble as Spencer hands me plates and silverware.

“Hmmm, what?” Ford asks, not bothering to look up at me.

“I live with two guys. I never really thought of it that way, but it’s pretty clear now.”

“We promise not to walk around naked too much, Blackbird.”

“Or bring stray pets home.” Ford smirks, still concentrating on his work.

“Set the table, Rook, and get the drinks. I won’t card you because it’s your first night, but just remember I’m doing you a favor and you owe me.”

I shake my head and pass out the plates and silverware and then get us three beers. Spence only has one kind and it’s from the microbrewery in FoCo, which is kinda cool. “I might regret staying here with you guys. Ford, get your shit off the table, we’re eating now.”

“See, Ford. Told you, she’s already bossin’.”

Ford stacks up his stuff and puts everything but one large yellow envelope over on the living room coffee table. “What’s this one?” I ask, pointing to the thick package.

“Your gift. But let’s eat first.”

I look over to Spencer as he sets the basket of bread on the table and then goes back to get the spaghetti. “Don’t get excited, Rook. It’s not something cool like a motorcycle. I mean, he gave you opera tickets last night for fuck’s sake.” Spencer practically snorts. “His gifts are as lame as his personality. No wonder he has slaves instead of girlfriends.”

And then Ford glares at Spencer so hard I wonder if it might come with a growl.

“Sorry,” Spencer says quickly, looking over at me. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

I swallow and try to ignore the awkward moment by grabbing some bread as Spencer dishes out pasta on my plate. “Well—here we are,” I mumble into the silence.

“Yeah, well, let’s toast. Rook, I knew you were my blackbird when I first laid eyes on you”—I blush a little. I didn’t expect something personal—“and I was right. You were the perfect model for my paintings and you’re gonna be the perfect addition to my new show. I’m so glad you talked that caveman boyfriend of yours into letting you come join me here. I’d kiss ya, but something tells me you liked it a little too much when we did that last summer, so I’ll spare you the embarrassment of fawning all over me and keep it professional.” He winks and I laugh.

“I still don’t see it,” Ford mumbles. “How? How is that desirable, Rook? If I were toasting I’d say—” He clears his throat. “To Rook, the girl who got back up. The girl who never looks back. I hope you find your dream and it’s everything you ever wanted.”

“Awwww, Ford.”

“And to the end of her first failed fucking marriage because it’s official! May you never have another!” We all shout “Cheers!” together and clink bottles. I knew Ford was working on it, but he never said anything about it happening so soon. “Annulment, Rook. Like it never happened. You are hereby legally a marriage virgin.”

“Thanks so much, Ford. Is that what’s in the envelope?”

“No, that shit’s over there in the living room. This,” he says, holding up the envelope, “is your future.”

I hold my breath for a moment and then let it out. “What’s in it?”

“Everything you’ll need to apply to CU Boulder and an interview with the film department head.”

“What?” I’m stunned. “How? And why? I’ll never get in so soon, Ford. I’m not even done with one semester. And I might suck at this college stuff, I’m not doing well in math, so maybe—”

“Stop,” Ford says in a serious voice. “You’ll be fine. I’ve already chatted with the higher-ups and they’re giving you life credit for the reality show work. That’s enough to declare film your major. You will have to actually get in. But really, Rook, if I did all this, do you think I’d leave you hanging?”

I shake my head. He never would, I know this to be true.

“I’ve got a lot more in this envelope but we’ll do that later this week.”

“Good,” Spencer says through a mouthful of spaghetti. “Because this school shit is boring the fuck out me. Let’s talk about bikes. Or tits.”

“How did I get here? We’re Three’s Company. Spencer is airhead Chrissy, Ford is intellectual Janet, and I’m pretending to be gay so I don’t notice that you two are roommate eye-candy.”

Spencer looks over to Ford. “What the hell did that have to do with tits?”

Ford just shakes his head and laughs.

God, I love these guys.