Kelly wasn't snooping, really.
Snooping was the sort of thing nosy strangers did when they were at someone's house for a party. Peeking into medicine cabinets, rifling through underwear drawers...that was snooping. Kelly was just taking a quick look around while Olivia was at work, that was all. She'd come out to San Francisco a full two weeks before her job started and her apartment opened up so that they'd have time to catch up, after all, and what with Olivia being so busy at work, they hadn't had all the opportunities they'd wanted to.
And it was just natural curiosity, really. That wasn't anything like the same thing as snooping. It was only that even when Olivia was home, and they did get the chance to talk, Olivia was always so modest about herself. She was filled with interest when it came to Kelly--so much so that it took Kelly almost three days to notice that Olivia had described the last decade of her life in only the vaguest and most superficial terms. It wasn't until she looked back on it that Kelly realized how skillfully Olivia had diverted the conversation away from herself and onto Kelly. When she did realize, well...it was only normal to be a little curious. And curiosity led her to just take a little peek around while Olivia was at work. That wasn't snooping, though.
It wasn't snooping if it was a friend. Kelly was doing a little investigating, that was all. Making sure her friend was really okay. Sure, Olivia seemed happy. She had that same little cat-smile she'd always worn, the one that suggested that life was nothing but a great big funny joke and she knew the punchline. She had money, she had a beautiful house, and judging by the couple of times she came home very late with slightly disheveled clothing, she had something of a love life. But sometimes people pretended to be happy, even with their old college friends. Sometimes the clues to deep-down inner misery were hidden, and you had to go look for them. Which meant that Kelly had to do a little investigating. It was just...concern, that was all. Sincere, well-meant concern.
Kelly wasn't snooping, and she knew it. Because snooping was something other people did, and Kelly wasn't other people. Having utterly satisfied herself of the logic of the act, she opened the door to Olivia's bedroom and slipped inside.
It was very nice. Olivia had excellent taste, and the prints decorating the walls perfectly complemented the colors of the room. Everything was well-kept, which didn't surprise Kelly too much; Olivia had never been a neat freak, but she'd always had a sort of inner grace that seemed to extend into the environment around her. It was as if it took Olivia less work to keep things clean than it did other people.
There was a light fragrance that filled the room, a sandalwood scent that Kelly recognized as Olivia's perfume. She never used much, but it lingered here as it did nowhere else in the house. It made the hairs on the back of Kelly's neck stand on end; she had the peculiar feeling that Olivia was there with her. She had gotten so used to smelling that perfume and associating it with Olivia's arrival in a room that it was all she could do not to whip her head around to look behind her.
And there was the bookcase.
It was the bookcase that had preyed upon Kelly's mind, ever since she'd arrived in Olivia's house last Tuesday and Olivia had given her the grand tour. The house had plenty of bookshelves, of course, reflecting Olivia's eclectic and erudite reading tastes. But the bookcase in Olivia's bedroom was the only one whose books were all placed on the shelf backwards, with their spines up against the wall so that all you could see were the indistinguishable expanse of white pages.
Kelly had known better to ask what they were. It was unforgivably rude, Olivia wouldn't have told her anyway, and they were almost certainly porn. But the question had hung heavy in her mind all this time, until finally she'd broken down and gone...investigating. Taking a look around. Just taking a quick peek at what it was that her old friend, who'd always been so demure and coy about her sex life, liked to read when she was alone between the sheets.
She reached up, her fingers trembling slightly, and pulled one of the books off the shelf. It took a little longer than she imagined it would--the book was longer than it was tall, the bookshelf deeper than it first appeared. The cover was featureless save for the fingerprints Kelly left on it--she realized only then that her palms were slightly moist with nervous sweat--but the spine had a name and a date. 'Milly', it said, '2-18-09'. Her heart racing, Kelly took it over to the dressing table and sat down to have a look.
Kelly opened the book and gasped just a little as she saw Olivia looking back at her. Her friend's photo gazed directly at the camera, as if challenging Kelly to a staring contest. Once again, Kelly fought the sensation that Olivia was there in the room with her--Olivia was at work, she wouldn't be home for hours, Kelly had plenty of time to just flip through the book and put it back exactly as she found it. Olivia would never know.