Diary of a Teenage Jewel Thief(18)

I head for the cold food and grab a premade ham and cheese sandwich and an apple. A milk at the end rounds out my selections.

Trin follows me out of the line with nothing but a fruit salad and a bottle of water, and I wait until she passes me so she can pick a table for us. We settle in at a spot near where the food line spit us out, opposite a few girls I don’t know. They ignore us, and we ignore them.

“So, are you going to teen night tonight?” Trin asks as she peels the lid off her fruit salad. When she goes to place the lid on the table, she knocks her water over, and the bottle rolls off the edge of the table. Without thinking, I reach out and catch it before it can hit the ground. It’s a reflex, not an action I’ve consciously decided on, and I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d tried.

Trin stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. I shrug and set the water bottle back on the table.

Then I do my best to pick up the conversation exactly where we left off in hopes that she’ll forget about my freakishly honed reflexes. What was her question again? Oh, teen night. I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Is it here?” I imagine it’s some sort of pep rally or something.

Trin laughs. “No, silly, it’s at Grade.” She watches me expectantly, like I should know what Grade is. Then, she follows up with, “You know, the nightclub? They do teen night the second Monday of every month.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m not really much of the nightclub type.” I don’t really know if that’s true or not. I’ve never actually been to a nightclub to tell if I’m the type or not. I’m just assuming not.

“No! I do not accept that.” Trin tosses a grape at me. It hits my shoulder and bounces onto the table, then rolls over the edge onto the floor.

“Ouch?”

“Mari, for real, girl. You have to come. You have no idea what you’re missing.” She puts down her fruit salad and clasps her hands together in front of her. “Pleeeeease?” she begs. “For me?”

I bite my lip against the urge to laugh at her antics and pretend to consider my response. “Well, you are very convincing…”

Her bottom lip slips into a pout, and she brings her clasped hands up higher under her chin.

“All right, fine. I’ll go. If it’s okay with my mom.”

Trin immediately drops the begging and sits back in her seat, and I half expect her to give herself a pat on the back. “I’ll just have to come over and convince her. No one is immune to my charms,” she tells me with a grin.

“Maybe so, but I can’t promise I’m going to stay long.”

She picks her bowl of fruit back up and eats a strawberry. After she swallows, she says, “That’s fine. You’ll come, and you’ll love it. You’ll see.”

I’m not so sure, but I’ll let her have her moment.





Chapter Eight


Will slips his hand into mine, and a little thrill tightens in the pit of my stomach. I turn slightly away from him to hide my own blush, pretending to be busy studying the world around us. We’ve been walking together for almost two hours. He’s shown me the field where he and his friends used to hold impromptu kickball games, bought me gelato from his favorite vendor, and even taken me by his cousin’s sister-in-law’s bridal shop—referring to all that wedding stuff as “dark subject matter.”

But as much as I want to get a good shot, I haven’t really been paying a whole lot of attention to my surroundings, I realize as I scan the area around us for potential shadow-photo inspiration. I’ve been too distracted by Will, his proximity, his scent. My gaze lands on a display full of glittery jewelry in a shop window next to us as we pass. A jewelry store. I’m simultaneously a little too interested and a lot more uncomfortable.

I’m loathe to admit it, but the jewels in the shop window call to me. It’s hard to erase years of training, to ignore a lifetime of looking for the shiny in every obscure corner. And here they are right out in front of me. Even from my spot on the sidewalk, I can pinpoint two security cameras and have, without even trying, already mentally picked the lock in the glass front door. The window case lock is even easier to imagine my way through, and in less than a minute, I already have a solid game plan for how I would burgle this adorable little mom-and-pop shop.

My cheeks heat as I realize Will is watching me intently. And something in the way he’s staring makes me realize that this is where my shadow picture is. Thieving—particularly jewels—is the shadow hanging over my life, my secret shame looming like this day’s grim weather.

“Whatcha looking at?”

“I’m planning a heist.” It’s meant to be a joke, but my tone is more serious than I intended.

Will’s wintry eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. What would he do if I were actually serious? I’m not sure I want to find out, and I force a laugh before telling him, “I’m just messing with you. I want to get a couple of shots of the shadows here.”

Will relaxes his posture, lets go of my hand, and moves to lean against a nearby light post with the faintest hint of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

I ready the camera and begin snapping photos of the window display, and in every photo, I make sure to stand so that my shadow falls over the shot. When I’m satisfied that I got enough images to choose from, I tuck the camera back into place and join Will.