Jake Undone(3)
Ryan stepped out of his room, and I followed him.
“Okay, you may need to put on some sunglasses for this one,” he said as he opened the door across the hall.
“This…is Jake’s room.”
Jake. The sex room.
If this room had a theme song, it would be Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N’ Roses. It was a complete contrast to Ryan’s bedroom. It was smoky, musky and mysterious. Now, I knew what he meant about the sunglasses. The walls were a neon orange. Everything else in the room was black: black furniture, black bedding and a black window shade to keep out the light, since this room actually had a window.
It was like every component of the room contradicted another part: neon orange and black, bright window with a dark shade. On top of that, there was a large collection of gargoyle figurines atop the dresser, but right next to them was a black and white picture of two adorable little girls who looked identical. Whoever this guy was, he was an enigma.
“What’s Jake’s deal?” I asked.
Ryan ran his hand over his short blonde hair and laughed. “Jake…how could I possibly sum up Jake? He’s…different.”
I laughed. “What do you mean different?”
“I mean, he’s cool…he’s just a lot of things. You’ll have to meet him to know what I am talking about. He’s from Boston. He pretty much takes off and goes back there every weekend. I don’t know what he does there or if he has some side business or something. He’s kind of secretive. I know his family lives there. He’s close to his nieces apparently,” he said gesturing to the photo.
“What does he do for a living?”
“Actually, it’s sick how smart he is. He’s an engineer for a company in the city, and he pretty much can fix anything that breaks in the house. But when you see him, you’re gonna be like, ‘he’s an engineer?’”
“What do you mean, when I see him?”
Ryan grinned. “He’s interesting.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
I didn’t mention to Ryan that I had already kind of gotten a preview of my own regarding Jake’s interests. I could never admit that I was hiding behind a door listening in while Jake “entertained” his guest.
Ryan led me back down the hall, opening the door right across from mine.
“This…is Tarah’s room.”
This was the best bedroom in the house. Like Jake’s, it had a window, but was painted a delicate lavender. There was a built-in white bookshelf, neatly organized with books and pictures and the room smelled like fresh laundry. It looked like a page out of a Pottery Barn catalog. The sun was streaming in, and I was so wishing this was my room.
“So, what’s Tarah like?”
Ryan blushed. “She’s really cool.”
“She is not with Jake, by any chance, is she?” I asked, thinking about the rendezvous I overheard earlier.
“Hell no! Why would you ask that?” he snapped.
“I was just wondering.”
“Trust me, there is nothing going on between Tarah and Jake.”
“And that’s because…?”
Ryan’s face turned red again, and he gave me a look that answered my question.
“Tarah…and you?” I asked.
He smiled. “Yup.”
“Really…”
“Yeah, it’s new…six weeks now. Wait ‘til you meet her. She’s awesome.”
“Nice, Ryan. I am so happy for you. But what if it doesn’t work out? I mean, you’re living together. Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Probably. But I can’t worry about that right now.”
“Well, I can’t wait to meet her.”
“I think you two will get along really well. She’s a hair colorist for a salon in the city. She’s working until close tonight, but she should be home around nine.”
I suddenly yawned, and then my stomach growled. “I am starving, but I haven’t had a chance to food shop.”
“No need. Let’s go downstairs to Eleni’s. My treat. Phenomenal Greek food.”
“I know. I smelled it on the way in here.”
As Ryan and I headed downstairs, I heard the same swearing from the apartment below us. The woman seemed to have a Jamaican accent.
“What is up with the lady on the second floor?” I asked.
“Oh, you just wait. That is just another benefit of living here, Troll. If I tell you, it will ruin it,” he said laughing.
“Okay, I am not even going to ask.”
***
After a fantastic dinner of Greek salad and chicken skewers, we returned to the apartment to have the baklava pastry the owner, Telly, gave us to welcome me to the neighborhood. After just one meal, I already knew I would need to limit my Eleni’s intake, or I was going to go broke and get fat.