Текст книги "Confessions of a Kleptomaniac"

Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

F lames ignite, burning everything in their path.

“Hang on. I’ve got you, Luna.”

Arms pull me against them as heat blisters my skin.

Who are you?

I know you.

I can feel it.

“Hang on, okay?” they say as we reach the caving stairway. “And no matter what you do, no matter how bad things get, I want you to hang on. Promise me that you’ll hang on, Luna.”

“I promise,” I gasp, struggling to get air.

I’m afraid, so afraid. I can’t breathe, and my hands and knees hurt. Everything hurts, but I know I have to be strong.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” they promise, and then they run straight through the fire, out the front door, and into the fresh air where I can breathe again.

Friday morning, I mess up. Instead of heading straight to school, I drive to the gas station, pretending the car needs gas. But I’m not really here for fuel. I’m here to try to deal with what happened last night with my dad.

My wrist aches as I wander up and down the aisle, eyeing the snacks while occasionally glancing at the cashier, who seems more interested with texting on their phone than with what I’m doing.

With her not paying attention, this should be easy, yet for some reason, I’m hesitating. I keep thinking of the last time I stole and how Grey caught me. How ashamed I was when I saw him watching me. How nervous I was when I followed Benny up to the front of the store to empty out my pockets.

I almost leave the gas station with empty pockets, but then I receive a text from my mom, reminding me that my grandma will take me to my session today and that I’m to obey her no matter what. Something snaps inside me, and I reach for the nearest candy bar and start to tuck it into my jacket pocket.

“Don’t even think about it,” the cashier says.

My attention whips to the front of the store. She has her phone in her hand, but her eyes are locked on me.

“I’m tired of teenage brats always ripping me off.” She glares at me. “So unless you intend on paying for that, I suggest you get the hell out of my store before I call the police.”

My cheeks flood with heat as I put the candy bar back on the shelf and rush down the aisle with my head tucked down. “I’m sorry,” I mutter as I pass by the cashier.

“Don’t come back here again,” is all she says.

I quicken my pace and run out the door. Only when I make it to my car do I breathe again.

Oh my God. That was close. Too close. Just like Benny’s.

Things are getting out of hand. I need to stop. Need to break this addiction. I just wish I knew how.

“Please put me out of my misery if I ever look that stupid while I’m dancing,” Wynter mutters under her breath as we watch the cheerleading team try to get everyone amped up for tonight’s game. “I can’t believe we have to miss second period just for this.”

We’re sitting on the highest row of the bleachers in the school gym, munching on licorice and gummy worms. Willow and Ari are with us, arguing about something they read in the news this morning. Beck is stuck sitting in the front row with his team, and he looks bored out of his mind.

Now that I’m at school with my friends, I feel a little better than I did this morning. But getting caught trying to steal weighs heavily on my mind. I do my best, though, to focus on my friends and keep my worries hidden from them.

“Since when do you care about missing class?” I ask Wynter as I prop my boots onto the bench in front of me.

“I’d rather go to class than watch this crap,” Wynter complains as she slumps against the wall and folds her arms. “It’s such a stupid tradition.”

I pick at a hole in the knee of the frayed, black skinny jeans I’m wearing. “Yeah, it kind of is, but we still need to be here.”

“We could always cut,” she suggests with a hopeful look.

“If I’m going to the party tonight, then I’m not going risk cutting class.” I offer her a stick of gum, and she snatches it from my hand. “Now chill out. It’ll be over in, like, forty-five minutes.”

“Fine. I’ll be good, but only because you’re going to the party with me.” She stuffs the stick of gum into her mouth. “What time are you coming over tonight?”

I drop the pack of gum into my open backpack by my feet then lean back against the wall. “That all depends on when my grandma falls asleep.”

“The party starts at eight, and I want you to come over early enough that I can pick out an outfit for you.” She pops a bubble. “I have this really, really cute, black, flower dress that would rock with a pair of knee highs and those boots you’re wearing.”

“I might be later than eight.” I slide the strap of my navy blue, silky top higher as it starts to slip off my shoulder.

“Beck hates when we’re late to his parties.” She avoids my gaze, messing around with a zipper on her skirt.

“Since when do you care so much about Beck?” I question. “Or is this about Theo?”

She gives me an innocent look. “I just really want to be there for Beck. That’s all.”

I’m not buying it, but I let it drop. “You can go early, but there’s no way I’m getting out before eight.”

“I’m going to be late, too,” Willow says, pulling her hair into a messy bun and fastening it with an elastic band. “I have to work until nine.”

“I can’t make it until nine, either,” Ari tells us as he digs through his bag for a pen. “I have this thing with my dad.”

“See? It works out,” I tell Wynter. “We can all be late together. And Theo can wait.”

Willow starts to laugh, but then her amusement fades as her gaze swings to something beside me. “Oh, hi, Grey.”

I glance to my right just in time to see Grey sit down beside me. The air gets trapped inside my lungs when he leaves barely any room between us, sitting so close our shoulders touch.

Why is he sitting so close to me? And why do I like it so much?

Grey’s gaze drags up and down my body, lingering on my lips for a split second before he focuses on Willow. “What’s up?” he says and then gives Ari one of those chin-nod things guys do.

Ari waves back, tucking a pen behind his ear. “Hey, how’s that stuff coming along with the Biology project?”

“Good. I printed up some info,” Grey replies, putting his feet up on the bench in front of him. “I’m not sure if I totally understood everything I read, though.”

“That’s okay. We can go over it in class.” Ari pulls out a grey, knit cap from his bag and tugs it on his head. “You don’t need to stress too much over it. Beck was right when he said I’d get us an A yesterday. I have a habit of taking over sometimes and I can’t . . .” Ari’s expression floods with panic for an instant. “I have to get good grades no matter what.”

“I’ll try my best not to mess that up for you,” Grey says, resting his arm on his knee.

“I’m not worried about that.” Ari’s focus drops to his phone as the screen lights up.

I stare at Grey perplexedly. Since when do he and Ari chat like that? The last time I saw them together, they could barely get out heys.

Grey turns to Wynter, seeming as though he’s struggling not to smile. “Wynter, I see you found your way to the gym.”

“Only because I was forced to,” she replies with semi-amusement.

Grey shifts his weight, scooting closer to me. I struggle not to note how amazing he smells, like soap and cologne, but I can’t help stealing an inhale.

“Why aren’t you up with the team?” Willow asks Grey as she slips on a black and red hoodie.

“Yeah, that’s an excellent question.” Wynter crosses her arms. “Why aren’t you up there with the rest of your douchebag friends?”

“I’m still on academic probation,” he answers, glancing down at where the team is sitting. “It’s okay, though. It’s been pretty interesting seeing all of this”—he gestures down at the gym floor where our mascot, a blue and gold fox, is doing a cartwheel—“from a different point of view.”

“You don’t get to play in tonight’s game?” Willow frowns when Grey shakes his head. “That’s so sad. With how much time you’ve spent practicing in gym class, you should get to play.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugs it off. “I still might get to if I can pass the English exam.”

“The one we took today?” I ask.

He nods, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “I got a C on the one this morning, but Mr. Gartying offered to let me take it again after school. If I get a B, then I get to play in tonight’s game, but I doubt I will. It’s not like I can learn an entire course within a few hours.” His lips tug into a small, defeated smile that makes the guilt in my stomach knot.

But I’m confused. I had Beck check with Grey to make sure he found himself another tutor, and Beck reported back to me that Grey said he had it handled. Clearly, he was lying.

Wynter jabs me in the side with her elbow.

“Ow.” I grip my ribs. “What was that for?”

“He needs help studying,” she hisses as she nods her head in Grey’s direction. “Hint. Hint.”

“It’s okay.” Grey offers a reassuring smile. “I really don’t think studying for a few hours is going to do any good.”

“You clearly haven’t studied with Luna and Willow, have you?” Wynter tells Grey as she laces up her shoe. “If the two of them help you, you’ll get an A. Trust me. They’ve helped me a ton of times, and I’m a pain in the ass to teach.”

Grey looks skeptical. “And you care because . . . ?”

“I don’t care, but I know someone who . . .” Wynter’s eyes drift to me, and I tense.

Please, please, don’t say anything about me liking him, my eyes silently beg with her.

“I don’t want Beck to be pissy, and he will if we lose the game,” she feeds him as an excuse, and I relax. “He always is whenever he loses.”

Thank you, I mouth to her.

She shrugs and focuses back on Grey. “And from what Beck says you”—she makes air quotes—“ ‘kick ass.’ And they really need your help to win.”

“Winning’s a team effort,” Grey says. “Even if I do play, we still might not win.”

“But it’d be better if you were there, right?” Wynter continues on with the charade. “It might give the team a better chance.”

Grey lifts his shoulders, shrugging. “I guess so.”

“Then count me in for tutoring,” Willow declares as she slips on her backpack. “I need to practice my teaching skills, anyway. I’m supposed to start tutoring my neighbor’s kids next week.”

“Are you sure?” Grey asks, but he already appears less stressed than he was a minute ago. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’m cool with just sitting the game out.”

“I want to help, but we should head to the library, like, right now.” Willow hops to her feet. “And meet there at lunch and during any of your free periods.” She jumps up onto the bench in front of her, and then her gaze drops to me. “Are you coming, Lu?”

Wynter observes my reaction meticulously. “Yeah, Lu, are you going to help out a friend or what?”

I shake my head at her sneaky little emphasis on the word friend. I get up, anyway. It’s probably my fault he has to take the test over since I was too scared to face him, too weak to face the truth about myself.

I smile at Grey. “Yeah, I’m in. I should’ve helped you to begin with.”

“It’s not your fault,” he says, leaning in and keeping his voice low. “You’ve had your own problems to worry about. How is everything with your parents and . . . things?”

“It’s fine. Things are fine.” Lies. Lies. All lies. I have the marks on my wrist to prove it.

He nods but appears unconvinced. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to help me, but if you want to, I’d really, really appreciate the help.”

“I want to help you,” I promise him. “I should’ve helped you before. I thought you had help, though. Beck said you were handling it or something.”

“I had my mom try to help me,” he explains with a shrug. “But that didn’t work out so well.”

I give him promising smile. “Stick with me and Will, and you should be fine.”

His smile reaches his eyes, and butterflies flutter in my stomach at the sight of it. Hopefully, Wynter can’t tell I’m secretly giddy. It’ll only convince her more that I like Grey.

Willow and I say good-bye to Ari and Wynter, and then the three of us jog down the stairs.

“You really think you can help me get a B?” he asks us as we reach the sidelines at the bottom of the bleachers.

Willow and I grin at each other.

“You’re going to ace this,” I assure him with a light nudge with my shoulder. “Trust me.”

He doesn’t look very confident, which only makes me hope I can back up my promise. If there’s one thing I’m good at, though, it’s school, so I should be able to.

As we hurry down the side of the gym, I notice an abundance of heads turn in our direction, just like when Grey and I went behind the school earlier this week. Beck even gives a what-the-hell look. Piper also notices, and she even pauses mid-cheer to blast me with a death glare.

Grey swings around to the other side of me and blocks me from her view, placing his hand on the small of my back. “People seriously need to get over themselves,” he mutters as we push out of the gymnasium doors. “It’s like they can’t get over stuff. First, it’s the car, and now it’s this stupid thing with . . .” He trails off, tensing.

But I know what he was going to say. This thing with Piper.

“So they finally noticed you got rid of your truck, huh?” I ask as we start up the hallway, heading for the library.

“Logan noticed the moment I pulled up in my new car,” he answers then wavers. “Or new old car, anyway.”

“I saw you had a new one.” My boots squeak against the floor as we slow to a stop in front of the doors that lead to the library.

He finally moves his hand away to open the door and lets Willow and I walk in first. “Yeah, I got it a few days ago. It was my dad’s . . . It’s old, but at least it runs. And it’s all my family can really afford right now.” He looks away, seeming embarrassed by the admission.

I’m a little surprised by it. Grey’s family was always so well off. He had a nice truck—which, yeah, I guess he sold—nice clothes, and they live on the wealthier side of town.

Suddenly, some of the stuff he’s said to me makes more sense, like the fact that he hasn’t had a phone for weeks now.

“I think old cars are cool,” I tell him, not wanting him to feel embarrassed in the least bit. “They have so much history, and just think about how many amazing things happened in that car. How many people learned how to drive it. How many people had their first kisses in there. A baby could’ve even been born in the back seat.”

Grey’s face twists in disgust as the door bangs shut behind us. “Okay, I really hope the last one didn’t happen.”

“It probably didn’t, but still, it’s cool to think about all the stuff that happened in a car that old.” I drop my books onto an unoccupied table in the back corner by the computer stations. “If it could talk, think of all the stories it could tell.”

“Most of my stories would be about my dad.” A shadow of a sad smile rises on his lips. “My dad owned the car for, like, two decades or something. From what my uncle says, he used to race it a lot and do all sorts of crazy things with it.”

I find it almost fascinating to watch Grey talk about his dad. While he gets emotional, there’s also so much happiness in his eyes. I wonder what that would be like to have happy memories with my parents.

“It sounds like he was an adventurous man,” I say.

“He is—was.” He softly laughs, shaking his head. “There was this one time when I was, like, ten, and he tried to outrun a cop to avoid a ticket, which probably would’ve worked better if he wasn’t driving a minivan. He ended up getting a ticket and bribed me with a baseball game if I didn’t tell my mom what happened.”

“Did you ever tell her?”

“No way. I would’ve kept my mouth shut even without the bribe. It’s guy code not to rat out your best friend.”

“Your dad was your best friend?” The idea seems crazy to me, but with how highly Grey speaks about his dad, I’m not that surprised.

He nods with a sorrowful look in his eyes. “He really was.”

“I couldn’t imagine being best friends with either of my parents.” I absentmindedly fold my fingers around my wrist.

“I don’t blame you. You’re parents . . . They’re intense.” He rubs his hand across his forehead. “I saw you at the store the other day with your mom.”

My mood goes kerplunk. “You did?”

He nods with a look of remorse. “I wanted to come up to you, but I was afraid your mom might rip my head off.”

I duck my head and let my hair curtain my face as my cheeks heat. I’m mortified that he probably saw my mom pat me down when I came out of the store. She didn’t even let me get into the car. She made me stand in front of the car and spread my legs and arms out like a criminal while she searched my pockets.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed.” He brushes my hair out of my face and lowers his head, leveling his gaze with mine. “Your parents should be, not you. They’re the ones who made the scene, and they should be grateful that you’re nice enough to put up with their shit instead of making more of a scene.”

“Maybe, but it’s still hard to be the one standing there while they’re doing the embarrassing stuff.”

“I know it is. I wish it wasn’t that way for you. I wish I could somehow make it better.”

“I wish I could make it better for myself and finally stand up to them, be a stronger person.” I bite my lip at my unexpected confession.

“Maybe one day you will. And it doesn’t make you weak because you haven’t yet. You’re not weak, Luna, at all. Some of the stuff I’ve seen you put up with over the years . . .” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard. “And you’re so forgiving about it.”

We exchange a look of understanding, and I can tell he wants to say more.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly.

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not.” Another swallow. “There’s so much I want to say to you.”

We stare at each other intensely until a group of people walk in, making a lot of noise and crushing the moment into smithereens.

I realize his fingers are still in my hair a split second before he does. He looks at his hand, and then our gazes collide as his fingers tangle through the locks, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.

Willow coughs as she sets her bag and books down on the table. The noise startles me, and I jump back, leaving Grey blinking in shock.

I hurry and plant my butt in a seat. “What’s up?” I ask Willow.

“Nothing’s up with me.” Her tone carries an underlying meaning, but she doesn’t overload me with questions like Wynter would. She just sits down in the chair across from mine and looks up at Grey. “You wouldn’t happen to have your test from this morning, would you?”

“I have it in my locker,” he says, gripping the back of the chair.

“Would you mind getting it?” she asks. “If I can see which questions you missed, I’ll be able to get a better feel for where we should start.”

“Sure.” Grey flashes me a smile before he saunters off for the doors with a spring in his walk.

I watch him until he vanishes out the doors then turn back to Willow. “What was with the strange look when I sat down?” I ask as I take out a pen from the spine of my notebook.

She thumbs through the pages of a textbook. “I’ve just never heard you talk that much before to someone outside of our group. That’s all.”

I check the time on the clock above the front desk. “We didn’t talk for that long, did we?”

“You do realize that you two were standing there for over five minutes talking,” she comments with amusement lacing her tone. “I was starting to feel like a third wheel on a date.”

“I’m sorry.” I fold my arms on top of the table. “I didn’t mean to do it. We just sort of started talking and I . . . got lost in the conversation, I guess.”

She clicks a pen and jots something down in a notebook. “Don’t be sorry, but I do want to know what’s going on, especially with what was going on with Wynter. She’s never been nice to Grey or anyone in his group before.”

I grimace. “She thinks I have a thing for him.”

“Thinks?” Her brows rise. “Or knows?”

“I don’t know.” It takes all my strength not to smile as I picture Grey and how he had his fingers in my hair. “Maybe knows.”

She doesn’t seem all that enthusiastic. “Has he ever said sorry to you for what he did?”

“No, but he’s a lot nicer to me and he’s done . . . stuff that’s really helped me out.”

“Like what?”

“Just stuff.”

“Luna, you do know I can tell when you’re lying, right?” she says. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, but just say so. It makes me question how good of friends we are when you lie.”

She’s right. I’m not being a very good friend by lying to her. And I’ve lied a lot to her—to all my friends, especially over the last few days.

“I’m sorry for lying.” I pull the lid off my pen with my teeth. “There’s just some stuff that’s been going on with me that I’m not ready to tell anyone yet.”

“But you told Grey?” It’s not an accusation. Just a simple statement.

“It was kind of by accident that he found out,” I tell her right as the chair beside me is pulled out.

“What was an accident?” Grey asks as he sits down in the chair.

Willow sneaks an I-have-this look in my direction then smiles at Grey. “Me and Luna getting invited to Pete Ashfon’s fall/summer bash,” she lies without missing a beat.

“I hate going to that stupid party.” Grey slides his test across the table toward Willow. “It takes forever to get to his house, and by the time my friends and I get there, they’re wasted and ready to pass out.”

“We’re not going, either.” Willow sneaks a glance at me. “Luna and I kind of made this pact.”

He leans forward with interest. “What kind of pact?”

Willow looks at me, and I sigh but explain.

“When we were, like, sixteen or something, we decided that we’d never go to any parties thrown by”—I choose my next words carefully—“the popular crowd.”

“But you go to Beck’s parties.” He rotates to face me, propping his elbow on the table.

“Beck’s not really popular. Yeah, he talks to you guys at school and while you’re practicing, but at the end of the day, he’s ours.” Willow winks at him so he knows she means that lightheartedly.

Grey chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “So what makes someone popular, then? Because, this whole time, I thought I knew, but now I’m not so sure.”

“You know, I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Willow muses as she looks down at Grey’s test. “I’ll let you know when I do.” She scans over each question he got wrong while muttering under her breath.

He turns to me. “You’re seriously never going to go to a party if it’s thrown by someone who’s considered popular, even if someone asked—no, begged you to go?”

I shrug. “I made a pact with Willow, and you can’t break a pact with your best friend. Ever. It goes against the rules of being a best friend.” I stretch out my legs underneath the table. “Besides, the last time I went to a party, the police busted it up, and my parents had to come get me.”

“Are you going to Beck’s party tonight?” he asks, pushing up the sleeves of his dark blue shirt.

I nod. “I actually am going to that one, but only because Wynter begged me to go.”

“What about the game?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, but I can’t make it to that. I have to go home straight after school. I really wish I could go, though.”

A pucker forms at his brow. He glances over at Willow before he turns inward and leans closer to me. “Your parents are letting you go to a party, but not a soccer game?”

I snort a laugh. “God, no. Even if I wasn’t grounded, they wouldn’t let me go to anything. I’ve always had to go home straight after school since I started kindergarten.”

His face contorts in confusion. “Then how are you going to the party?”

“My parents are out of town and Grandma’s babysitting me,” I clarify. “She sleeps like a rock, so it should be easy to sneak out.”

He doesn’t even so much as flinch from the mention that I have a babysitter. “That’s good . . . that you’re going to it.”

“Are you going to be there?” I ask, massaging my wrist as it starts to ache again.

He nods. “And I was thinking we could talk alone for a while when we’re there. I know we were supposed to hang out at lunch, but I think I might have to ask you for a rain check so I can study.” His gaze descends to my arm, and then his brows dip. “What happened to your wrist?”

My chest tightens as I glance at the bluish purple dots on my wrist. “It’s nothing.” I cover the marks with my hand. “I just did something stupid on the trampoline and ended up getting my arm caught in the springs.”

“Since when do you have a trampoline?” Willow gives me the same suspicious look as Grey.

“It was on Wynter’s,” I lie in an uneven voice as I tuck my arms under the table.

Willow presses me with a look, and I shoot her a pleading look back, begging her to let it go.

Shaking her head, she pulls out a highlighter and drags it across the page.

I know, the moment we’re alone, she’s going to bring it up again, and I have no idea what I’m going to tell her. The truth? God, my dad would freak if I did, but that doesn’t mean I want to lie to Willow. She’s one of my best friends, and I’ve already been doing too much lying lately.

“I wanted to talk to you at the party because I have some stuff I really need to tell you, that I should’ve told you a long time ago,” Grey whispers, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “But now I think maybe there’s some stuff you need to tell me, too, like where those bruises came from because they sure as hell aren’t from trampoline springs.” He reaches under the table, and his fingers graze my injured wrist. “I don’t want you to be afraid. You can trust me. I promise.”

My heart thrashes in my chest every time his skin comes into contact with mine. “Okay.”

He smiles, trying to make me feel more at ease. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to relax. When my dad saw the marks this morning, he warned me that I was supposed to tell people it was an accident.

“If anyone asks, say you hurt yourself on a trampoline,” he said as he glared at me.

“But we don’t have a trampoline,” I muttered as I stirred my cereal, feeling too sick to my stomach to eat.

“Lie then. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” He slammed the cupboard and turned to me. “People don’t need to know what a terrible person you turned me into,” he warned. “This is your fault, Luna. If you’d just behave, then I could control my temper.”

I silently got up and walked out the door to go to school, but when I made it into the car, I screamed until my lungs ached and made the decision to drive to the gas station.

“Let’s get started with this,” Willow announces as she traces the marker across a page and highlights a sentence.

Grey keeps his hand on my wrist, eliciting shiver after shiver from my body.

“I’m all ears, teacher,” he tells Willow.

She faintly smiles then jumps right in, explaining to him why he missed certain questions.

I help when I can, but I’m distracted by what’s going to happen at the party tonight when Grey and I talk to each other. Alone. I’ve never been alone with a guy before at a party other than Ari and Beck, and there’s so much unsaid between Grey and I, so much he knows about me that no one else does. There’s so much he wants me to tell him.

What happens if I break down and tell him everything, and he discovers the nice Luna he seems to like doesn’t really exist?