Life After Theft
Page 73

He hesitated for a few seconds before adding, “I have to call on Monday and tell your parents what happened. But I think you need to tell them first.”
“I will,” I said, although the thought made my stomach feel like I’d just swallowed a chunk of ice.
“I also feel you should know that the two other teachers who were at the school with Hennigan told Officer Burke that you’re a good kid and that he should go easy on you. He thought it was a joke, but I’m telling you so you know that you’ll have support at school.” He laughed. “Hell, the kids’ll probably all love you.”
I hadn’t thought that far ahead. He was right—by Monday, everyone would know that Jeff Clayson was the Red Rose Returner.
Sera would know.
I had to tell her before she heard it from someone else.
I didn’t even know where to start.
As if he could read my thoughts, Officer Herrera patted my shoulder. “Get on home,” he said gently. “You’ll have your work cut out for you soon enough.”
I nodded and got out of the car. Then I stood in the parking lot and waved as I watched Officer Herrera drive away. I unlocked my car and was about to get in when I looked over and saw the last of the stickers still sitting on the pavement, though Bailey’s key was gone. I picked them up and put them in my pocket. Something to remember this by.
My house was dark except for a couple of security lights. I opened the fridge, but I didn’t feel hungry; I felt empty. For weeks I’d wanted nothing more than to get Kimberlee out of my life. And now, it looked like maybe I had.
But not by helping her move on. I’d chased her away, and even when she came back to stop me from turning myself in, we’d just argued more. I felt like I’d failed her. And she didn’t have a backup plan.
I hesitated as I pulled a quart of milk out of the fridge. Maybe she did. Maybe there were other people who could see her. She’d lied about everything else at least once; why not this? Maybe I was just the only one gullible enough to try and help her.
But a painful thudding in my chest told me it wasn’t true. It was the same ache I’d felt when she’d cried on my bed—a smoldering, hollow sense of helplessness. I spit my mouthful of milk into the sink and turned off the kitchen light, my appetite completely gone.
I dragged my backpack up the stairs, enjoying the thud of my books on the steps. It made me feel better, though I couldn’t say why. I walked through my open door and, just because no one was home, slammed it.
Damn, that feels good.
I opened it and slammed it again, harder. I started to smile as I opened the door again.
“Please don’t.”
I froze, still holding onto the doorknob, and waited for her to speak again.
When she didn’t, I flexed my arm against the door and started to swing.
“Jeff.”
I let go of the door and turned to look. “Kimberlee?”
I almost didn’t recognize her. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and there was no makeup on her face—no red lips, or thick black lines around her eyes. She was wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans. She stood leaning against my headboard with a pair of light blue flip-flops on her feet. “You’re back,” she said softly. “I was worried.”
She sounded serious, but I’d known her too long to believe it. “No thanks to you,” I said darkly.
She looked down at her feet. “I should have come with you.”
“Little late for that.”
“It’s a little late for a lot of things,” she said, her voice shaky.
I glared at her, trying to figure out what the trick was. Finally my curiosity got the better of me. “You look different.”
Kimberlee nodded but said nothing.
“Have you been able to do this the whole time?” I asked bitterly.
She shook her head. “No! I promise.” She looked down at herself. “And I can’t change back, either. Not that I’d want to,” she added quietly.
That made me pause for a minute. I figured for sure she’d be mad about her plain appearance. “What happened?”
“After I left here . . . I was so pissed. I went to the mall and tried to steal things, spied on a bunch of couples making out in the movie theater—all the stuff I used to do. And I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
Boy, that sounded familiar. A little payback is always satisfying.
“You did something today that didn’t benefit you at all. It was just for other people and your screwy sense of the right thing to do.”
I didn’t bother to argue.
“And I realized that even though I don’t feel like you do—I don’t care about doing the right thing—I wanted to. I wanted to have something, anything, that I believed in that much. So I came back,” she added after a long pause.
“You did?”
She nodded. “I was too late, though. I even went to the school, but everyone was gone. What happened?” she asked.
With a sigh I dropped my backpack on the floor and related the story. When I got to the part where Officer Herrera came into the interrogation room, Kimberlee started to smile.
“All that drama and I wasn’t even around to see it.” She paused, then said, “You’ve gone through so much trouble for me.”
“What else was I going to do on a girlfriendless Friday night?” I asked, forcing a smile.
We both laughed shakily for a moment before Kimberlee’s eyes filled with tears and she looked down at her feet. “I went to my parents’ house. Inside, I mean; not just to the cave. I hadn’t done that before.”