The Slut's Guide to Chess

chapter 4

Someone had been in my room.

When I came back from seeing Xander, it was my first thought.

I wouldn't have noticed if not for the countless nights I'd laid awake, staring at Eliott's side of our twin dorm. It had been two weeks since she disappeared but with every tap of the autumn breeze against our window, every echo of footsteps outside our door and jangle of keys in the night, my eyes were wide and waiting.

It was never her, though. She was still missing.

What I noticed first was the third drawer in her chest of drawers was closed. Eliott always kept it slightly ajar so that she could easily grab the pack of cigarettes she'd hidden inside without fuss during the nights or early mornings.

Though I'd never approved of her smoking, it did hand us some of the beautiful memories that I cherished now. That open drawer always reminded me of waking up from the harsh chill that had crept through my blankets, and the sound of rain slamming against our windows as though they'd break at any moment.

Though our room was dark, I remembered seeing Eliott sitting on the windowsill, forehead against the glass as the smoke from her cigarette danced through the window to fraternise with the rain outside. The moonlight highlighted her high cheekbones and pale blue eyes that were heavy with exhaustion.

Still half-asleep, I remembered only staring. I watched the way she moved elegantly like a ballerina on stage as her pink lips blew out the smoke and created a path like silk that weaved gently around her. Eliott was frustrating and hard to read, and stuck in her own head.

And, damn, she was beautiful.

I'd noticed before that night, of course. She possessed an intimidating sort of beauty; pouty lips and heavy-lidded eyes. She was dangerous for me. The type of person I'd be okay with staring at forevermore, no life just gazing adoringly. I was enamoured by it, completely obsessed, and it scared me a lot.

Eliott was like a ghost perched on that windowsill or a memory from another life. Too far away to touch and never mine to keep. When I'd finally gathered up the confidence, I'd stepped out from under my sheets and crept to her side.

Her eyes had glanced lazily to mine and a soft smile pinched at her lips. It was one of those rare moments where she wasn't Eliott, the reckless boy-crazy girl. She was just...Eliott.

She'd extended her arm out for me and I slid in next to her like a puzzle piece. The wind kissed our cheeks like an old friend and through my nerves, I'd sat upright and chanted facts from memory while watching the rain.

But, though I was annoying, Eliott didn't snap. She only pushed the side of my neck down softly to rest on her shoulders and took a long drag on the cigarette. As she released the smoke in a flurry of romantic mystery, I collapsed against her side comfortably.

"Just watch, okay?" She'd whispered while running her fingers through my curls.

Whoever had been in my room had shut the drawer, and as I thought about it the memory fizzled away.

Then, there was the teddy bear. When she was born, Eliott's grandmother had given her a beautiful teddy bear made from only the fluffiest golden fur. With beady eyes and a button-down coat, the bear was something Eliott adored. We'd placed it on the table between our two beds so that it faced Eliott's. She said that it made her feel as though her grandmother was watching over her. Now, however, the bear was gone.

That wasn't all. The little belongings Eliott lined up neatly beside one another on top of her chest of drawers was what caught my eye.

Lipstick, blood-red; Ink, a pot of dark blue, half-empty; Football trophy, under 12's player of the year; Earrings, diamond studs.