Diary of a Teenage Jewel Thief(57)
Will brought my journal over yesterday, and it’s nice to have it back, even if it is being held together by duct tape. I don’t know how Will found it, but I’m not complaining. Petrov’s probably going to go away for a long time, and we turned the evidence over to the Italian authorities. He’s gone, and with him most of the fear and anxiety I’ve been harboring for so long. Even though it’s going to take a while for me to get used to the fact that I don’t need to constantly be looking over my shoulder for potential signs of danger anymore, I already feel relief.
My mother’s been following up with the carabinieri, and it looks like they have enough evidence against Petrov that he will never see the light of day as a free man again. It’s a safe bet they’re actively dismantling Petrov’s syndicate even as I write this.
And now that everything’s out in the open with Will, I can finally be myself. The idea is so foreign to me that I still catch myself trying to hide my past when we’re together. Then I remember that he knows, that he’s like me, and I can relax again.
The one feeling I can’t seem to shake, though, is that unbalanced, slightly adrift feeling that plagued me when we first arrived in New York. In fact, the only time I didn’t really feel it was when I was caught up in Petrov’s clutches. I’m beginning to worry that it might not be as easy living a normal life as I’d hoped. Maybe you can take the girl out of the thieving, but you can’t take the thieving out of the girl. Maybe I’m hardwired to need that extra excitement in my life. I don’t know. All I know is being a normal teenage girl doesn’t look quite as appealing as it did a month ago.
As promised, Will knocks on my door at seven a.m. on the nose, almost as if he was standing outside the door watching the time until exactly then. I hear his knock from my bedroom and rush to get to the door, but by the time I do, my mother has already opened it. “Come on in, Will. Marisol will be ready soon,” she says even as I round the corner at the other end of the gallery.
Will looks as hot as ever in dark jeans and a blue hoodie with a logo from some sports team or another—they all look the same to me. His dark hair is tucked behind one ear and hangs over his cheek on the opposite side. And holy hotness, his smile is practically brighter than the sun, all self-confidence and charm. My sidewalk Romeo. “Morning, flower.”
“Morning.” I try hard not to stare, but it takes considerable effort for me to peel my gaze off Will and place it squarely on my mother, who’s standing behind him looking a little too smug.
It feels weird, having Will pick me up at my front door instead of meet me at the corner, maybe because having my mother watch us leaves me feeling conspicuous and shy.
Will grabs my backpack from the floor next to the door and swings it onto his shoulder, probably intending to carry it for me. Yep, that’s my Will.
My cheeks heat at the realization that I now think of him as my Will, but my embarrassment lessens when he wraps an arm around my shoulders in a casual hug and presses a kiss to the top of my head. A month ago, I would have been embarrassed to have a boy kiss me, even so chastely, in front of my mother, but after everything we’ve been through, this small intimacy feels natural regardless of our audience.
“Have a good day. I love you.” She kisses me on the cheek, then ushers us out the door.
“Love you, too, Mom,” I reply as I follow Will to the elevator. A moment later, I hear the front door click shut. She’s apparently giving us privacy, but really, she’s probably watching us through the peephole.
Even though my building’s elevator is spacious compared to many, it feels small with Will riding next to me. After pushing the button, he stands against the back wall next to me, just inches away, and his proximity reminds me of our ride to his roof the night of our date. And once I start thinking about the rooftop, my mind wanders back to the kiss, and then on to the life-altering, world-shattering kiss he laid on me after Petrov was taken into custody. My stomach clenches nervously, and my cheeks heat. In my head, I’m reliving every second of that kiss, the feel of Will’s lips, his body pressed against mine. But outwardly, I’m tense, holding my posture straight and my expression even straighter so I won’t let on where my thoughts have wandered to.
Will hasn’t mentioned the kiss since it happened, and that realization is enough to jar me from my reverie. Did he not enjoy it? Maybe I’m a bad kisser.
Will clears his throat like he’s about to say something, but the elevator jolts softly to a stop and dings our arrival on the first floor. A second later, the doors part to reveal a lobby already bustling with activity. Instead of saying whatever was on his mind, he places one hand against the door closest to him to hold it open and motions with the other hand for me to lead the way out of the elevator.
The street outside my building is even busier than the lobby, and I have to stick close to Will, practically hanging on his arm, to avoid being plowed over by other pedestrians on the sidewalk. Will waits a minute or two before using the closeness to his advantage. He wraps an arm around my shoulders protectively. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Despite the chill in the air, his words warm me, and I bite back a smile. “Me, too.”
“I have to admit, going back to school now, after everything that happened last week…it feels a little…anticlimactic.”
I stop walking to face him. He’s basically putting voice to the thoughts I’ve been trying to deny. Maybe I’m not so weird after all. “Yeah,” is all I say back, though.