Confessions of a Kleptomaniac

  At least that’s what I keep telling myself as I drive to the drive-thru and listen to her chatter on and on about all the people who annoy her. After we get our order, I park the car in front of the restaurant and turn off the engine.

  “I was thinking that you could match your cummerbund and tie to my dress. It’s pale pink,” Piper says as she peels off the lid of the bowl of salad she ordered.

  I unwrap the peanut butter sandwich I brought with me. “I’m never going to wear anything that’s pale pink.”

  “You will if you want to go to the dance with me.” She grins haughtily as she grabs a plastic fork out of the paper bag. She nibbles on the lettuce while frowning at my lunch. “Why did you bring a sandwich if you knew we were going to get lunch?”

  “Because.” I take a bite of the sandwich and chew it slowly to avoid saying anything more.

  It’s crazy. I’ve dated Piper for almost a year, and I’m not even comfortable enough to explain my situation to her. While I haven’t told Luna everything, I plan on doing so when I get some alone time with her. I’ve already told her so much about me, more than I’ve ever told anyone.

  Piper adds more dressing to her salad and stirs it around with the fork. “That’s the most pathetic sandwich I’ve ever seen.” She sets the fork down in the salad bowl, flips down the visor, and grimaces. “There’s not even a mirror in this pile of crap. What the hell, Grey? How am I supposed to fix my makeup?”

  As I sit there, listening to her, I try to figure out what the hell I saw in her a year ago, why I thought I needed to start dating her. I remember thinking she has a hot body, something she always shows off in tight, short dresses. She likes to go to parties and is friends with a lot of my friends. I knew she could be a bitch, but I didn’t really care about that. She puts out, and that was all that mattered. Back then, that was enough, but not anymore.

  I set the sandwich down on my lap. “Piper, we need to talk.”

  She must sense something in my tone because she flips up the visor and folds her arms across her chest. “Don’t you dare try to break up with me right before the dance.”

  “That dance isn’t for another three weeks.”

  “Three weeks isn’t that far, Grey.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone else to take you.” I flick the keychain with my fingers as I think of the right thing to say that will cause the least amount of drama.

  “Is this about Luna Harvey? Because, if it is, then that’s just insulting.”

  I tense at her mention of Luna. The last thing I need is for Piper to go after her.

  “Why would you think this is about Luna?”

  “What, you think I’m blind? I’ve seen you talking to her and looking at her when you think no one is paying attention.” She flips her hair off her shoulder. “It’s kind of pathetic and makes you look like an idiot. I mean, picking her over me . . . Most guys would kill to be with me.”

  “Then I guess you won’t have too much of a problem finding someone else to take you to the dance,” I say flatly.

  “You’re going to regret this,” she huffs, reaching for the door handle. “By the time I get finished with you, no one will want to touch you again.”

  “Calm down, okay,” I say as she kicks open the door. “I’m sorry you’re upset, but I can’t keep doing this. We were never . . . really right for each other.”

  “Oh, I’m not upset.” She plants her heels on the ground, tugs on the bottom of her dress as she stands up, and then reaches back in to snatch up her purse from the seat. “I’m pissed off. No one breaks up with me. You knew that when you first started dating me. I warned you, if you so much as tried to break my heart, I’d end you.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t break your heart. We weren’t even in love, Piper. You know that just as much as I do.”

  “Obviously, but that’s not the point.” She digs her phone out of her purse. “The point is you broke up with me after all that whining and sulking I put up with over the summer, and I’m not going to let you get away with it. By the time I get through with you, you’re going to have no one left.” She slams the door so hard the entire car groans in protest. Then she storms off toward the entrance of the restaurant, putting her phone up to her ear.

  I grip the living daylights out of the steering wheel and take a few measured breaths. That was even worse than I thought it was going to be. Still, threats and all, I’m relieved it’s over. Maybe now I can move on from that chapter in my life.

  Except, in the back of my mind, I worry about what’s going to happen if she does make good on her threats, mostly because I’m worried she’s going to try to do something to Luna. I can handle Piper’s temper tantrums, but the last thing I want is for Luna to have to.

  I’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.

  By the time I make it back to school, Piper has told almost everyone that she broke up with me at lunch. Thankfully, that’s the only rumor that seems to be spreading around the hallway. Still, I can’t help noticing that some of my so-called friends are acting differently, like Logan. He does take a moment to corner me in the hallway and express his “concern.”

  “I just hope you don’t go all loner crazy like Jay,” he says, looking way too happy over the idea.

  Jay was the last guy who dated Piper. After spreading around a rumor that he was in a cult and spent a lot of time hurting animals, most of his friends cut ties with him. I’m ashamed to admit I was one of them.

  Maybe I deserve what’s coming. Maybe I deserve worse.

  “Why are you being such an asshole about this?” I ask as I open my locker. “We used to be friends.”

  “You know as much as I do that we were never really friends.” He leans his shoulder against the locker with his eyes on the people traveling through the hallway. “We’ve hung out and shit, but we’ve never really liked each other. In fact, a lot of the time I hate you. You think you’re the shit, which you’re not.” A slow smile spreads across his face as he looks at me. “Haven’t you ever heard ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’? Good luck with whatever you’ve got headed your way.” It’s a threat. Clearly, he has every intention of helping Piper try to destroy me.

  I spend the next couple of classes trying not to notice how different people are treating me, suddenly avoiding me like I have the plague. It takes me until the last class of the day to figure out why.

  “I heard Grey Sawyer has herpes,” a girl whispers to her friend as I enter Biology.

  Herpes? Really, Piper? That’s the best you can do?

  “Yeah, which pretty much means she has it too,” I say to the girl.

  Her eyes widen as she seizes ahold of her friend’s arm and scurries to the opposite side of me.

  Shaking my head, I take a seat at my usual table and wait for class to start. No one sits by me, and no one seems too enthusiastic to be my partner when the teacher hands out a group project assignment.

  I feel unsettlingly uncomfortable sitting there all alone. You did this to yourself. If you’d been nicer, then maybe people would have your back.

  “So, you have herpes, huh?” Beck drops his books down on the table and pulls out a chair to sit down.

  “Apparently, at least that’s what I’ve been told.” I try not to appear too relieved when he sits down, but I am. Like, a ton.

  “You know, I’ve seen Piper come up with a lot crazier rumors, but this one might be the most disgusting one she’s ever spread.” Beck flips open his book as Ari joins us, sitting down in the chair across the table from me. “She must be really pissed off at you. Then again, almost everything pisses her off if it means she’s not going to get her way.”

  “That it does,” I agree as I crack my textbook open.

  I wait for him to start asking questions about what happened between Piper and me, but instead, he nods his head at Ari.

  “I’m not sure if you two have officially met, but this Ari, my partner in crime and the guy who will
get us an A on this assignment.”

  Ari rolls his eyes as he reads through the assignment packet. “I’m not going to do all the work for you this time.”

  “That’s what you say now, but we both know that’s not how things are gonna go down,” Beck tells him cheerfully then looks at me. “He says that every time, but then he gets really frustrated and takes over when he remembers how much I suck at homework.”

  “It all turns out okay, though,” Ari says, opening his binder. “Beck makes up for it by giving the presentation to the class, which I suck at.”

  “So, what does that leave me with?” I ask, twirling my pen with my fingers. “Because I’m not that great at science, either, and while I usually rock the presentation thing, I’m not sure how well the class is going to react when they fear they’re going to contract herpes from me.”

  Ari sighs as he removes his glasses to clean the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. “People really are stupid, aren’t they? And seriously, who believes anything Piper Talperson says? The girl should’ve lost all her credit when she tried to convince everyone back in seventh grade that broccoli was a fruit and that it grew from trees. She even tried to argue about it during debate class and told a story about the broccoli she once saw growing in her backyard. God knows what she actually saw.”

  Beck reclines back in his seat with his hands tucked behind his head. “How did I not know about this?”

  Ari slips his glasses back on, shrugging. “It’s not like we ever talk about her.”

  “True,” Beck says with a bob of his head

  God, if Piper heard what they were saying, she’d lose her mind. I find myself smiling at that.

  I spend the rest of class working on the assignment with Ari and Beck and listening to them tell stories about some of the stuff they’ve done. They bring me into the conversation whenever they can. They’re really easy to talk to, like Luna, more accepting than I’m used to. Watching them joke around with each other forces me to realize how crappy my friends have been over the years, how much time I’ve wasted by hanging out with people I never felt comfortable with.

  When the bell rings, I collect my stuff and head out of the classroom. People continue to give me nasty looks as I make my way to the parking lot with Ari and Beck, but I do my best to ignore them.

  “So . . . Have you gotten your grades up yet, man?” Beck asks casually as we cross the grass.

  Ari is detached from the conversation, engulfed in some kind of text conversation on his phone, but he does glance at me when Beck asks me the question.

  I pat my pockets for my car keys. “A little bit.”

  “You think you’re going to be able to play in the game tomorrow?” he asks, spinning a keychain around his finger.

  “Maybe. It all depends on if I can pass the exam I have in English.” I don’t think I will, though. Not when my mom’s been the one helping me study.

  “Did you get another tutor?” he asks, seeming marginally interested in my answer.

  “I have it handled,” I say with a shrug. It’s a lie. I don’t have it handled at all, but I don’t know anyone else besides Luna who is smart enough to tutor me.

  He accepts my answer, though.

  “Cool. Maybe we can have a good shot at winning.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I feel like a jerk for lying, but what else am I supposed to say?

  We part ways and get into our cars.

  The drive home gives me time to clear my head. Maybe this thing with Piper won’t be as bad as I thought. Perhaps it’ll help me get rid of everyone who simply used me, like Logan. I want a fresh start, right? Well, that also means making new friends.

  I’m feeling pretty okay by the time I pull up into my driveway. But as I climb out of the car, the oxygen suddenly gets ripped from my chest as I notice the sold sticker slapped over the for sale sign in the front yard.

  I drift into the house in a panicked daze, trying to convince myself that it’s a good thing. It means my mom won’t have to worry about a mortgage she can’t afford. My family needs this. But it hurts, knowing the house I grew up in that carries so many memories with my father won’t be my house anymore. I want to cry; instead, I put on a smile so my mom won’t know how upset I really am. No one will.

  Thursday evening, I eat dinner with my parents, listening to them gossip about all the people in the town who don’t live up to their high standards. I tune them out for the most part, allowing my thoughts to drift to Grey.

  I’m still not positive what I’m going to say to him if he brings up the stealing incident tomorrow—whether I’ll tell him the truth or not. I can’t lie to myself, though. All confessions aside, the idea of going to lunch with him makes me feel excited. I just hope Piper doesn’t flip out about it. The last thing I need is to be the target of her again.

  “Luna, you’re going to be working this Saturday and Sunday after church,” my mom unexpectedly announces as she shovels a spoonful of lasagna onto her plate.

  I blink from my thoughts and focus on what she’s saying.

  “Your father and I will be out of town for the weekend for that church camp program we’re helping out with, but my mom will be coming to stay with you,” she explains. “We’ve made her a list of rules and the things that you need to do. She’ll see to it that you get everything done, and don’t think you can get away with stuff just because she’s old. Remember, she took care of Aunt Ashlynn.”

  I stab my fork into the food on my plate. Eighteen years old and she still gets me a babysitter.

  “Who am I working for?”

  “For Benny at his store.” She sets the spoon into the pan. “And you won’t be getting paid for any of the work you do.”

  “This isn’t a job,” my father says as he digs into the pasta. “This is part of your punishment.”

  I set the fork down, no longer hungry anymore. “Did you . . . ? Did you tell Benny that I stole from him?”

  My mom lets out a sharp laugh. “Like I would ever admit such an embarrassing thing to anyone.” She picks up her fork, shaking her head. “We told him that we thought it would be good for you to help our community a bit more, that you were becoming too spoiled and needed to see what it’s like to actually work. And it’ll help improve our family’s appearance. With how you have been behaving lately, you’ve been causing a lot of our church friends to gossip about us.”

  “Okay,” I say quietly.

  “You’re lucky Benny is giving you this opportunity,” she continues. “He turned down the offer a few times, but we were persistent, so be grateful for this chance and don’t argue.”

  I actually like the idea of helping Benny out. Perhaps it can help with my guilt. There’s just one problem, though. Or a fear. What if I can’t control myself? What if I’m in that store, and all I can think about is taking stuff off the shelf when Benny’s not looking? I haven’t stolen since that day, but every time I get stressed out, it’s all I can think about doing.

  “Maybe I should help someone else,” I subtly suggest, “someplace that’s not a store.”

  “You’ll help the person you stole from,” my mom snaps. “And you will do a good job.”

  I nod without further argument. I can do this, I tell myself. I’ll be out of the house, far away from them and way less stressed, which will help with the impulse.

  I finish the rest of my dinner without speaking. After I’ve scraped my plate clean to avoid any “waste not, want not” speeches, I clean up and head for my room.

  “Luna, come here for a second,” my mom beckons me back to the kitchen table.

  I free a quiet breath then back up. “Yes?”

  She meticulously examines me over from head to toe. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

  A chill ripples through me. Great. This can’t be good.

  She reaches up and fusses with my hair. “I think it’s time for a haircut, something way shorter. Maybe something like Mary Persting’s daughter.”

  I jerk back. No w
ay am I cutting my hair as short as Mary Persting’s daughter. Hers is shorter than Beck and Ari’s hair, for crying out loud.

  “I like my hair this way.”

  Her expression hardens at the sound of my clipped tone. “Watch how you talk to me, young lady.”

  I try again, forcing myself to be calmer. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t want to cut my hair. If I do that, then I won’t be able to pull it up and keep it out of my eyes.”

  “If we cut it short enough, then it won’t hang in your eyes.”

  My fingers curl inward, and my nails stab into my palms. “Please don’t make me do this.”

  “Stop arguing with your mother,” my dad warns from the kitchen sink. “If she says to cut your hair, then you will cut your hair. If she says jump, you will ask how high? If she tells you to clean the house, you will thank her for giving you a roof over your head.”

  I bite down on my tongue until I taste blood.

  “I’ll schedule an appointment with Donna for the end of next week. You will go, or you won’t be allowed back in the house.” The threat in her eyes makes me shudder. “And be grateful I’m taking you to a salon. I could do what we did last time and cut it myself.”

  I swallow hard as the painful memory strangles me. I was twelve and had worked so hard to grow my hair all the way down to my lower back. Then, one day my mom decided she hated the long-hair look after one of the other mother’s commented on how trashy I was starting to look. Yeah, I liked to do the whole beach wave, bed head thing, but it didn’t make me look trashy.

  “Nice girls don’t keep their hair that long,” she said like that made logical sense. “Right now, you don’t look like a nice girl.”

  I didn’t want my hair short, and I fought her and tried to run. She had my father pin me down in a chair while she hacked off my hair with a pair of scissors. Her movements were so rough she even nicked my brow, and I still have a faint scar from it.