I GO HOME IMMEDIATELY after school because that’s what my mother told me to do.
I grab a ride on the school bus because I don’t have my bike, and it’s just a bit too far to walk, especially with my heavy backpack. Most of the kids on the school bus are younger, because a lot of the juniors and seniors drive to school. I turned sixteen over the summer, and I got my learner’s permit, but my mom made the executive decision that I wasn’t ready for driving lessons, no matter how much I begged. I did manage to convince her to take me out in our car a few times in a parking lot though. Better than nothing.
Hudson has a car now. He turned sixteen almost ten months ago, back when we were still speaking. He couldn’t wait to get his learner’s permit and pass the driving exam so that he could get a limited license. As usual, he included me in his plans. I’ll swing by and give you a ride to school every morning, Addie.
The car he bought looks like he scraped it together from pieces at the junkyard, and I’m sure he paid for it himself with money from his summer or after-school jobs. But his new girlfriend Kenzie didn’t seem to have any qualms about climbing into it.
When I get to the front door, my mother yanks it open before I can even dig my key out of my backpack. She was obviously watching the front of the house, waiting for me to return. She is wearing a pair of gray yoga pants, and her graying hair has come partially unraveled from her ponytail.
“How was school?” she asks me before I can even manage to step into the house.
“Great,” I say. “It was the best day of school ever.”
“Don’t be a smart aleck.”
I dump my backpack on the floor by the front door, even though I should probably bring it up to my room since I have homework. Both Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Bennett managed to assign homework today. But at least I’m looking forward to the English assignment. He wants us to write about our summer, but in poem form.
Mom wrings her hands together, hovering over me even though she knows I hate it when she does that. “Did you make any friends?”
I groan. “No.”
“What about Hudson?”
I just shake my head.
“I don’t understand what happened between the two of you.” She tugs at her yoga pants, which look too tight. “He’s such a nice boy. You used to be inseparable.”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want me to call his mother?”
I groan again. I definitely do not want her calling Mrs. Jankowski, who at least speaks slightly better English than her husband but is no less strange. Besides, I know exactly why Hudson isn’t speaking to me. And my mom can never, ever find out.
“It’s fine,” I say. “He’s busy all the time with football anyway.”
Thankfully, she lets it go, which is a major achievement. A few years ago, my mom and I had an easy relationship, whereas my dad was a loose cannon—always angry when he’d been drinking and ready to explode over the tiniest thing. And now my dad is gone, and my mom has turned into this hovering worried mother. But at least I don’t think she’s drinking like he did.
No, I know she’s not. She would never.
Mom arches an eyebrow. “Was Mr. Tuttle there?”
“No.” I drop my eyes. “He got… I mean, he was fired or quit or something. But he’s gone.”
“Oh.”
I can tell my mother is relieved. Like a lot of people, she never quite believed me when I told her nothing happened between me and my math teacher. Maybe because my story kept changing just enough to make people wonder.
She looks like she wants to ask me about it again, and if she does, I swear to God, I’m going to start screaming. I don’t want to talk about it again. I told her the truth. I told the principal the truth. And I told the police everything there was to tell.
Well, not everything.
I mean, I’m not a complete idiot.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Nine
EVE
THE ALARM IS GOING off in the shoe store. It’s blaring throughout the entire store, and it’s hard to believe that everyone in the mall can’t hear it.
Oh God, I never should’ve taken those shoes. What was I thinking? I already have enough shoes. I just bought a pair only two weeks ago. I got greedy. But I just wanted them so badly…
What is wrong with me? I’m sick. Nate is right—I have a problem.
There’s a security guard jogging toward the store. I don’t know what the policy is on prosecution of shoplifters, but this is not good. I don’t know how it will look for my job if I have a shoplifting charge against me. I could get fired.
What is Nate going to say about all this? He’s going to be so disappointed in me. I can’t even face him after all this.
I clutch my purse to my chest, the blood rushing in my ears. The clerk is also hurrying toward the exit, and it only vaguely registers that she pushes past me without giving me a second look.
That’s when something occurs to me. I have not yet gone through the exit. The only one who went through is the old woman who just bought a pair of shoes.
“I’m so sorry!” the clerk cries. “I totally forgot to take off the security strip on your shoes!” She flashes the security guard an apologetic look. “This was my bad. She paid for those shoes.”
The clerk leads the nonplussed elderly woman back to the cash register to disarm the security strip, while I stand in the corner of the store, trembling down to my core. I hadn’t realized there was a security strip in the shoes. If I had gone through the exit first, the alarm would have gone off, and the security guard would have found the stolen shoes in my purse.
I dodged a major bullet.
While the clerk is busy, I pull the shoes out of my purse and slip them back into place. I can’t believe I almost did that. I almost screwed up my entire life over a pair of shoes. How could I have done something so risky?
It takes all my focus to drive home without getting killed. My whole body feels like it’s buzzing, and not in a good way. I should never have attempted something so stupid. Just goes to show that I haven’t changed at all over the years. Sometimes I try to kid myself that I’m an adult now, but how can I be an adult when I still feel fifteen half the time?
When I get home, I’m relieved to find Nate’s car is in the driveway. I don’t have to sit at home and wonder when he’ll be back for a change. And when I get inside the house, I smell tomato sauce wafting from the kitchen. He’s even gotten dinner started.
I hang my purse on the coat rack like I always do and wander into the kitchen. Nate is standing in front of the stove, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up as he stirs the contents of a pot on the stove. I imagine an alternate reality where I had to tell Nate I was arrested for shoplifting. Thank God I didn’t go through with it.
Nate notices my presence in the kitchen, and he looks up with a smile for me. He is so incredibly handsome when he smiles. Even after all this time, I still think so. Who wouldn’t?
“I got dinner started,” he tells me. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” I say. “I’m glad you did. You’re so thoughtful.” I smile back at him, although I recognize my own smile doesn’t have as much impact as his does. “I have the best husband ever.”
He laughs and turns his attention back to his pot of tomato sauce. “I’m pleased you think so.”
Something stirs inside me. Maybe it’s all the adrenaline from almost getting caught stealing those expensive shoes, but suddenly, I want Nate. I want him right now, even though it’s not the first Saturday of the month.
I come up behind my husband, sliding my arms around his firm chest. I lower my lips onto the back of his neck. “Nate…”
He laughs again. “Eve, what are you doing? I’m trying to cook us a feast here.”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” My hands move south, even as his body stiffens. “Maybe you can take a break from cooking dinner…”