Taking Mine (13 page)

As a matter of fact, it wasn’t until right when Dan and Melanie found out they were expecting. They were close to the age I am now, both working minimum wage jobs. I had caught Melanie meeting Dan in the employee parking lot. She was crying because her parents had kicked her out, and Dan was freaking out because he shared a one-bedroom apartment with Ethan. I was looking for an excuse to steal, looking for an excuse not feel bad about myself, and I had found one.

It’s powerful in its own weird way. I have the power to take something. I suppose I could psychoanalyze how it can relate to having lack of control in my everyday life, but that’s all mumbo jumbo. It’s a rush. It’s doing something and having zero repercussions for my actions. The act of being devious is greater than the actual worth of the item. It’s doing something just because I can. Or, it was. Now, it’s much greater than that.

I think back to late middle school when I began to steal petty things and how much simpler it was for me then. I began with small stuff—pencils or concession money—and then it slowly progressed to cell phones and wallets in high school, eventually landing me at the feet of Taylor. It got to a point where even stealing an unlocked vehicle wasn’t worth the challenge. I’d want the car that I knew I would struggle with. It only pushed the desire to do it higher.

I nudge his shoulder with mine, breaking him from his thoughts. “Are you going to tell me about your criminal past, Sherlock?”

“Who says I have one?” he says, nudging me back.

“I don’t care what you say; no one has the balls to run from a cop unless they’ve done it before. And you’re incredibly nonchalant about working for a chop-shop. So, spill.”

His smile is tight lipped. “I went to prison when I was seventeen for aiding and abetting an armed robbery.” He laughs at my reaction. “It’s not something I broadcast, okay?”

Crossing my legs, I face him. “Elaborate.”

He smiles at my eagerness. “My parents were going through a tough time, always fighting. My dad was an alcoholic and he’d take it out on my mom. She was working three jobs trying to support us.”

I sit as still as I can, not wanting to disrupt him, almost trying to disappear so he's comfortable. “So, my mom was always gone. My dad stayed in the house most of time, leaving me and Jacob alone to entertain ourselves a lot.”

“Jacob?”

“My little brother. He’s a little younger than me, about your age. We ended up doing a lot of bad stuff just to kill time. And mostly because we could. We were out one night with a group of guys we hung out with, and we were on our way to a tiny bar on the outskirts of town that served alcohol to underage kids. My friend Tommy said he wanted to stop and swipe some beer. We stopped at this small tin store right by the county line, leaving Jake in the car.

He takes a break to dig through his pocket and produce a pack of cigarettes. He lights one and inhales before he continues, his voice a little bit lower in timbre. “I’m in the back, shoving these ice cold bottles down my pants, when I hear yelling. I look around the aisle and see Tommy holding a gun up at the clerk, telling him to give him all the cash in the register. Not knowing what to do, I ran to the car.”

“So you weren’t the one to actually rob the store?”

“Other than the beer, no. Tommy came out of the store right as the cops showed up. Several squad cars poured in and I panicked. I took off. I was driving this beat-up Isuzu, barely topped out at eighty, and I knew we were going to get caught. I jutted into a cane field and dropped Jacob off.”

“He was what, fourteen?”

“Fifteen. It was his birthday. I admit I wasn’t the big brother I should have been, not like Kip is. I always figured since he went with me everywhere I could keep him safe. I was wrong, but that’s the way I looked at it.”

I nod, wanting him to know I hold no judgments.

“Once I got back on the main highway. I surrendered.”

“How long were you in jail for?”

“I was sentenced to four years but got out early for good behavior. A little over a year and a half in all.”

His eyes are cast off, looking at nothing in particular, and I’m reminded of how much older he looks. It's daunting. Wanting to break the mood, I quip, “Now I know where you got your mad driving skills from.”

He throws his head back and laughs, smiling from ear to ear. When he looks at me, his eyes are lighter, making me smile with him. “I doubt my one outrun from the law makes me an experienced driver.”

His laughter dies down and it’s replaced with silence. This time it’s comforting. And it’s now I realize that every breath I've taken since leaving Justin's apartment hasn't felt like it’s been trying to kill me. I breathe deep, relishing the feel of…contentment.

It's close to midnight when he drops me off a block from my house. I'm about to open the door when I have a question I need answered. “Why did you agree to work for Taylor?”

“I ask myself that,” he says. “Sometimes I think fate is giving me a lousy hand.”

“Is it the money?”

He shrugs, his arm draped over the steering wheel. “Life has a way of putting me in places with you when it knows I can’t have you.” He looks up from my feet, his gaze gently sliding up my legs and over my body, stopping once he reaches my eyes.

I clear my throat, forcing myself to speak. “A goodbye would have been fine.”

He smiles.

PROFESSOR WHITTICKER DISMISSES
the class with a final warning that fraternizing with student teachers is forbidden and can lead to being dropped from the class with a failing grade or expulsion.

“There goes my chance at passing.” I shove my notebook into my backpack and wait for Kaley to finish reapplying her lip gloss.

“Mm, I highly doubt Lance is good at obeying.” She smacks her lips together and shuts her compact.

“Ashley might be. This is her career on the line.”

“For some reason I can’t believe that any girl who falls for Lance’s charm is a studious rule follower. And if on the off chance she is, I have faith Lance will find a way around it. He’s sleazy like that.”

The chilly air blasts us when we step outside, whipping our hair into disarray. It’s the first day of fall when the temperature is cold enough to wear a jacket. I pull my hood up as we trek across campus. Everyone agreed we were spending too much money at the café, so the study group decided to convene in the courtyard. And Lance kind of got us kicked out when he hacked the café’s Wi-Fi and changed their music station. None of the employees could actually prove it was him, but when he started dancing to a song about anacondas, they had a good idea.

The low temperature is pushing people to actually use the campus grounds again. The courtyard is chock-full of people lying out, eating, studying, and a small group is throwing a football around. Lance comes barreling toward us, looking over his shoulder as he catches a perfect spiral inches from our faces.

Kaley holds a hand up to shield her face. “Watch it.”

He’s undeterred. “Mornin’, ladies. Care to join us in some tag football?”

“It’s too cold to move,” I say.

“That’s why you need it,” he says, squeezing my upper arms together. “Get those juices flowing.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He looks to Kaley and she rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She says it like she’s doing him a favor.

Lance tosses the ball to Kaley and winks. “Do you even know how to play?”

I hear Kaley growl as she throws the ball at Lance’s face and he ducks right as it zooms over his head. His eyes are huge when he looks up at her cocky glower. I laugh.

I find Blake sitting against one of the oak trees and make a spot next to him, clearing out some of the leaves and debris.

“Didn’t want to play,” he asks, greeting me as I sit.

“Nah. You?”

“Heck no. They’ve argued for the past twenty minutes on whether or not the ball was inside the end zone.”

I look up and see Justin explaining the parameters of the makeshift field when Lance chimes in, shaking his head and pointing out new grounds. Justin pulls the football from Kaley’s hands and places it down on the field, done with Lance’s insistence and wanting to start the game. The two teams consist of six players each; Kaley and Courtney are the only girls participating.

“I’m guessing we’re not studying today?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

Leaning against the tree, I put in my headphones and huddle under my jacket. Kip’s been staying up late with me, helping me with practice questions and making flashcards. This morning he gave me an impromptu quiz and rewarded every question I got right with bacon. Between him and the study sessions, I feel better about my academic standing.

I can do this. I’m moving forward and there’s a real possibility I can bring up my GPA enough to apply for law school in the fall of next year.

But for now, I’m focused on graduating, and I’m breathing, and that feels perfect.

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I open my eyes, Justin’s naked torso is the first thing I see. He crouches down in front of me, pulling the earphones from my ears. The sun is out and the clouds from earlier have dissipated, leaving a mild warmth in the air. Suddenly stuffy, I pull down my hood and my hands from my pockets, a thin layer of perspiration coating my skin.

But mine has nothing on Justin’s.

His chest and shoulders are covered in dribbles of sweat, beads of them falling onto the ground at his feet. There’s a small bit of hair that’s scattered around his navel and disappears under the hem of his blue jeans.

“You missed your second class.”

My eyes jump to his eyes. “What time is it?”

“A little after noon. You looked comfortable, so I told Blake to let you sleep. He left a while ago.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up, trying to deflect the sun’s glare. The football game is much larger. The population of players has doubled since I fell asleep, with most of the male players shirtless. “Everyone’s still playing football?”

He looks over his shoulder for a second. “No one wanted to go to class when the weather’s so nice.”
Very nice
, I think as my eyes trail up the arms he has braced over his knees. He grins. “Everyone’s going to go grab lunch. Want to come?”

“I’ve got class in ten minutes.”

He shrugs, and it’s like all the muscles in his body shift with the movement. “Skip. Take a sick day.”

“Yeah,” Lance says, jogging to a stop above us. “Everyone’s meeting in the cafeteria.”

“Everyone’s skipping school to spend the day at school? Does anyone else think this is stupid?”

Justin rolls his eyes, tugging me up with one hand and impressing me with his strength. “Come on. Stop being a Debbie Downer.”

“Gee, thanks, when you put it that way.”

He smiles, throwing his arm over my shoulder and putting his sweaty body next to mine. “You’re grouchy when you wake up.”

Lance follows behind us, tossing the ball into the air as we walk across the courtyard. “It’s probably because the first thing she saw was your face.”

Justin releases me from his side, and I instantly resist the urge to rub myself into him like a cat seeking attention. “Don’t you have Kaley to piss off or something?” he says, pulling his tee back over his head. I stand between them getting dressed, and I keep my eyes diverted, trying hard not to stare.

“She loves it.”

Justin raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, like when she slapped you across the face when you
manhandled
her right before the end zone.”

Lance rubs his cheek, a smile of adoration in place. “It was a tackle. That’s the game. She was just mad because I got sweat on her.”

“It’s touch football, Lance. There is no tackling.”

He waves the football around dismissively, and I’m struck by how alike he and Kaley are. “Semantics.”

Everyone files into the lunchroom from outside, and it sounds like a cacophony of voices, everyone in good spirits with the beautiful day. A couple of guys fall in line behind us and give Justin and Lance praises for such a good game, and I’m kind of sad I missed it, especially because I didn’t know they were going to be playing shirtless.

Kaley comes barreling through the crowd and screeches to a stop. “Knee-Slapper Tommy,” she says, right before she launches her lips onto Lance’s without a second more to explain. Justin takes a step back, his eyebrows hitting his hairline as he looks from them to me.

Their lips are moving so urgently that I feel like I’m watching a freak show. I catch sight of Tom, in his blue-jean-shorts glory, watching them. Disappointment flashes across his face before he shrugs and walks away.

“Okay, he’s gone.”

They separate as fast as they joined. “One of these days I’m not going to save you,” Lance says, wiping excess saliva from his face.

“You wish,” she says, winking at me before marching off.

“How many times has she pulled that maneuver?” Justin asks.

“Lost count.”

We retrieve our lunches and manage to squeeze into a table toward the back.

“Oh,” I say to Lance. “I forgot to mention that Whitticker’s on to one of his student teachers releasing information to the student body. He threatened expulsion if he finds out who it is.”