Life After Theft
Page 75

I grinned. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.” But I sobered as I lifted the small shoe box I had brought—a box Kimberlee hadn’t put in the cave but in its own little private hiding spot in the cove. Because, she had explained, it wasn’t something she stole; it was something she took. I snuck a glance at Kimberlee, standing close to my shoulder, and she nodded encouragingly. “I brought you something,” I said seriously. “And I need you to not ask questions about it. I’ll tell you later, but there’s just not time tonight.” I shoved the box into her hands and she stared at me for several moments before lifting the lid.
Tears filled her eyes as she reached in and touched the long, thick braid of red hair tied with miniature blue-and-green pom-poms.
“Kimberlee’s sorry. She wasn’t before, but she is now.” I glanced back one more time, but Kimberlee’s gaze was fixed on Sera’s face, her brows knit together in concentration. “She knows she has no right to ask, but she hopes that someday you can forgive her.”
Sera tried to speak, but nothing came out. She looked up at me and I tried to show on my face that this wasn’t—could never be—a joke.
She closed the lid again and looked at the sticker—one last sticker—that I’d affixed to the top. “It was you?”
I nodded.
Her hand came up to cover her mouth and she shook her head. “But . . . you just moved here. How could—?”
“I’ll explain everything tomorrow,” I said, hoping I’d still have the nerve when tomorrow arrived.
“I didn’t know!” she insisted. “I didn’t; I promise. I would never . . . I didn’t . . .” She couldn’t finish as tears filled her eyes.
“It’s okay,” I said, rubbing my hands up and down her arms. “Everything is okay. I’m not getting expelled.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, no,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Don’t be sorry. This is not your fault; this is Hennigan’s fault. Don’t blame yourself.”
“I didn’t want to,” she said, clutching the box to her chest.
“I know. And I trusted you. I knew you had a good reason for whatever was going on and I was right. I’m proud of you for what you did. You saved Khail.”
“But I could have taken your place and saved you both,” she whispered.
I shook my head. “No, you couldn’t have. We both know you tried. And if you knew it was me you probably would have lied worse, not better.” She mustered up a teary smile at that. “I had someone else to save me. Khail needed you and I’m glad you did it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded uncertainly.
“Oh,” I said, remembering the last thing. I pulled a small scrap of paper from my pocket. “This is for Khail.”
She took it and read my scrawly writing followed by a phone number. “Preston? Khail’s friend who moved a couple years ago?”
I nodded, then held my breath.
“Should I tell Khail to . . . call him?” she asked, confused.
She doesn’t know. Not even his sister. His best friend. “Just give it to him,” I said, my voice wobbly. “He’ll know what it’s for.”
“Okay,” she said, her thumb idly stroking the sticker on the shoe box. She looked up at me; then her eyes flitted to something over my left shoulder.
To Kimberlee.
Sera blinked and shook her head before turning her puzzled expression back to me. “That was weird. For just a second I thought I saw . . .”
“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” I said, squeezing her hand before she could try to finish her statement. I leaned a little closer and whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Then the door closed between us.
I exhaled slowly, trying to calm my racing heart. I turned around and faced Kimberlee.
She was still staring at the door, but a hint of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”
Kimberlee and I lay on my bed, head-to-head, for a long time that night. Streetlights slanted through my blinds and laid stripes across her face. “How long have you had Preston’s number?” I asked.
“Almost a year. When I realized how fast I could travel as a ghost I spent about a month tracking him down. Seriously took ages. His parents did not want those two together again. I hoped maybe doing that would help me move on. But then I couldn’t tell anyone the number, so it was totally pointless.”
“But it was a good thing to do. See, there is goodness in you somewhere,” I said with a grin.
“Jerk,” Kimberlee said, but she was smiling.
“That’s me,” I said, stretching my arms out to both sides.
“He still hates me,” Kimberlee said after a moment.
I lifted my head and looked her in the eye. “Did you have anything to do with Preston’s parents finding out about him?”
She met my eyes, her gaze steady. “No.” She laughed bitterly. “It’s the one thing I didn’t do.”
“Then it’s not your problem.”
“It feels like a problem.”
“Oh, it is a problem—it’s just not your problem. And after tonight, I think you’ve done what you can.”
“Are you sure?”
I chuckled. “I’m not sure about anything.” We both laughed quietly in the darkness until a comfortable silence settled over us. For several minutes neither of us spoke.