Confessions of a Kleptomaniac

by Jessica Sorensen

  “I’m glad I could help.” She stiffens in my arms as she places a hand on my back.

  I trace my finger back and forth across the bottom of her back until the tension leaves her body, and she fully hugs me back, tucking her head under my chin. God, her hair smells so good, like strawberries and vanilla. I breathe in the scent before slightly tipping my head to the side to look at her.

  “You did more than just help. You listened, and not many people do that, especially for a person who’s treated you so shitty over the years, who still needs to say he’s sorry and ask for forgiveness, which he’s fully planning on doing, but the right way.” Before I can back out, I brush my lips across hers so softly she probably won’t be able to tell if the move is accidental.

  She gasps against my mouth, and my fingers tighten as the need to kiss her deeper pulsates through me. I graze my lips against hers again, and this time, she moans.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit. I almost lose it.

  “No kissing inside the building,” Howard mutters as he brushes by us.

  Luna’s cheeks are bright pink when she scrambles away from me with her fingers pressed to her lips. I carry her gaze, even though I’m a bit nervous. I can’t tell what she’s thinking at all, whether she liked the kiss as much as I did or not.

  “Everyone have a seat,” Howard says loudly from over by the circle.

  “We should probably go sit down.” The corners of her mouth pull into a coy smile as she turns around and sits back down.

  I take a seat next to her as she glances at her phone, seeming bothered by something on the screen. I want to ask her about it, but Howard starts the session and doesn’t give me an opportunity.

  People start talking, but I barely hear anything anyone says, too fixated on every time Luna shifts her weight, when her shoulder grazes mine, when she crosses her legs and her knee brushes against my jeans. My body and mind are hyperaware of everything she’s doing to the point where it’s driving me insane in the very best way possible. I’m not even sure I’ve experienced this kind of a connection with someone before.

  Halfway through the session, she starts rubbing her bruised wrist, and I’m reminded we still have so much to talk about. I know she didn’t get those bruises from a trampoline. No, those marks look like they came from fingers, and after seeing how Luna’s parents treat her, my bet is that one of them did it.

  I only hope she’ll trust me enough to open up and tell me the truth.

  “Is everything okay?” Grey asks the second the session is released.

  “Yeah, why?” I stand up from the chair and put on the jacket to cover up my outfit.

  “You seemed a little distracted with something on your phone.” He runs his fingers through his hair, making the strands go askew. “Like someone sent you a message or something that was bothering you.”

  I open my mouth to lie to him, to be the liar I am, but the truth just sort of tumbles out. “It was actually an email.”

  “Okay.” He chews on his lip, deliberating something.

  God, I can’t believe I kissed those lips. Holy shit!

  “Can I ask what it was about?” he asks. “Or is it too personal?”

  “I have this aunt, my aunt Ashlynn,” I start, shocked I’m telling him this. Then again, he already knows so much about me. Maybe that’s why it feels so easy to tell him stuff. “She’s kind of like the bad seed of our family. My grandma kicked her out of the house when she was around my age because she was doing a lot of bad stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “I’m not really sure. I mean, I’ve heard a couple of stories about her hanging out with the wrong friends, getting caught drinking, and coming home late, but no one’s ever said what specifically got her kicked out.”

  “That seems like mild stuff to get kicked out of the house for.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not surprised, considering how my parents are.” I zip up my jacket. “I’m actually surprised they haven’t kicked me out yet after everything I’ve done.”

  “You really worry they’ll kick you out?” he asks, baffled.

  I shrug, pretending it’s not as big of a deal as it is. “They’ve threatened me about it before.”

  “Luna . . . I’m so sorry. That sucks that you have to worry about stuff like that.”

  “It is what it is.” I wander toward the door, knowing my grandma is going to have a meltdown if I don’t come out soon, and Grey walks with me. “I’ve always kind of known there’s a chance I could get kicked out of my house before I graduated. My parents made sure of that. Every time they’re mad at me, they bring up my aunt Ashlynn’s situation, but no one ever brings up what happened to her after she was forced to leave, and I used to make up all these stories in my head of what happened to her. Sometimes my thoughts would go to a much darker, twisted side, and I’d picture her lying in some rundown building, dead. But sometimes I’d wonder if she had, like, this really awesome life where she could be this carefree person.”

  “Is there any way you could find out?” Grey asks as we stop in front of the door.

  “I used to think there wasn’t. I mean, every time I ask my mom if she’d heard from her, she got really upset and said she hasn’t spoken to Ashlynn since she left.” I splay my hand against the door to push it open, but then draw back when I spot my grandma’s car parked out front. I’m not ready to go out just yet. I need just a few more moments to talk with Grey, a few more moments of peace. “I got an email today from someone claiming to be her.”

  “Really?” His eyes pop wide. “How long has it been since you’ve seen or heard from her?”

  “I was four when she got kicked out, so about fourteen years.”

  “What did she say in the email?”

  “That she wanted to meet up with me to see how I was doing. She didn’t say how she got my email or anything . . . I’m not even sure why she’d try to contact me instead of someone else in the family.”

  “Maybe she knows that you’re a more understanding person than your family,” he says. “Maybe she’s reaching out to you because she knows you might reply to her.”

  “But how could she possibly know that?” That’s what doesn’t make sense. The last time I saw my aunt Ashlynn, I was four. How could she possibly know what kind of person I was going to grow up to be? Was it evident back then that I was going to turn into an utter disappointment for my parents? “And how did she even get my email?”

  Grey suddenly grows uneasy. “Are you sure it’s her? Maybe someone found out about her and is pretending to be her.”

  My brows draw together. “Why would anyone do that?”

  He scuffs the tip of his sneaker against the carpet. “To hurt you.” He sighs heavily. “Luna, I need to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”

  I move away from the door as someone walks by us. “Okay . . . ? You’re making me a little worried.”

  “I don’t want you to worry, but I feel like you need to know.” He takes a deep breath. “Piper might try to come after you.”

  “What?” That is so not what I was expecting him to say.

  “I promise I won’t let anything happen,” he adds in panic. “I just want to make sure that you’re careful when you’re around her.”

  “But I didn’t even do anything to her. I barely even know her,” I say in a high-pitched voice.

  “You might not have purposefully done something to her, but she mentioned you when I was breaking up with her, and it made me nervous.” He blows out a deafening breath. “I know how she is when she gets pissed off at someone . . . like with me and that stupid rumor she’s been spreading.”

  I smash my lips together as anger simmers under my skin. How can she be so hurtful to someone?

  “I don’t get why she brought me up when you broke up with her. I mean, why bring up some random girl you talk to sometimes?”

  “You think you’re a random girl I just talk to sometimes?” He searches my eyes for something. Th
en, looking unsure of himself, he reaches forward and laces his fingers through mine. “Luna, you’re probably the first girl—no, the first person other than my dad that I’ve ever really talked to.”

  I stare down our intertwined fingers. “And you think that’s enough of a reason for Piper to target me?”

  “I’ve seen her try to ruin people over less.” He squeezes my hand, drawing my attention up to him. “But that’s not going to happen. I won’t let her do anything to you. She can come after me—I’m okay with dealing with her drama and shit—but she better not even so much as spread a rumor about you.”

  Something occurs to me then. “Wait? You don’t think she’s the one who emailed me, do you? Because there’s no way Piper could know about my aunt Ashlynn. Not even all my friends know about her.”

  “I doubt it’s her, but you never know.” He yanks his fingers through his hair with his free hand, tugging roughly at the roots. “If she overheard you talking about her even one time—if anyone did—then I wouldn’t put it past her to look into it and do something messed up like email you and pretend to be your aunt. It is kind of weird that your aunt suddenly contacted you after fourteen years at the same time all this shit is going down with Piper.”

  “I don’t talk to many people about it, though, so I still don’t think it could be her.” Or maybe that’s just false hope.

  “But you talk to me about it?” He holds my gaze, and I don’t look away, even when my skin warms.

  “I know.” My uneven tone makes my face flush hotter.

  “Just be careful with this, okay?” He lightly grazes his finger along the inside of my wrist. “Until I find a way to get Piper to chill the fuck out.”

  “How are you going to do that?” I question. “She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who just chills out over anything.”

  “There are ways to break her down. She may pretend to be perfect, but I know she’s not.” His jaw sets tightly as his eyes drift to our linked hands. “If you want to walk away from this, though, I get it.”

  Walk away from what? Whatever this thing is that’s going on between Grey and me? I could do that. It might be easier. Then again, I’ve never walked away from any of my friends, no matter what was going on in their lives, and I care about Grey enough that I’m not about to walk away from him, either.

  “I don’t want to walk away at all,” I say, giving our hands a swing.

  Relief washes over him. “Good. I’m really fucking glad to hear you say that because I don’t want you to walk away from it, either, even if that makes me a selfish asshole.”

  “You’re not a selfish asshole at all. You’re far from it.” My gaze flits to the door as someone honks a horn. “I better go. That’s probably my grandma. But I’ll see you at the party.”

  He nods, and with great hesitancy, I slip my fingers from his and turn for the front door.

  “This thing with your aunt,” Grey says as we step outside into the fading sunlight. “I think, if it is her, it might be good for you to meet up with her. It might good for you to see how she’s doing, and maybe it’ll help you realize that you’re not as bad of a person as your parents try to make you think you are. But promise me that you’ll make sure it is her before you say too much through the emails and agree to meet her.”

  “I promise I will. I was planning on it, anyway.” If only I knew more about her . . .

  “Good.” The tension in his body alleviates, and his gaze fleetingly drops to my lips. “See you tonight at the party?” he asks, and I nod.

  Looking super happy, he turns and heads for the corner of the street.

  “Grey,” I call out. “Good luck with your game.”

  He smiles from over his shoulder. “Thanks. I have a feeling that’s going to bring me good luck.”

  My heart beats wildly in my chest as I float toward the car in a haze, wondering what’s going to happen at the party tonight. I don’t want to set my expectations too high, but at the same time, I feel giddy. I realize as I slide into the passenger seat that I don’t think I’ve ever been giddy over a guy before. My mom was wrong. Dating can be fun, if that’s even what Grey and I are doing.

  “Who was that guy you were talking to?” my grandma asks as I slide into the seat and shut the door.

  I draw the seatbelt over my shoulder. “Just some guy who goes to my school.”

  “And a guy who has to go to this place.” She glares at the single story brick building where the sessions take place like it’s somehow offended her.

  “He’s not a bad guy.” No, Grey’s not a bad guy at all, something I’m learning more and more with each day. He’s sweet and caring and has soft lips exactly like I thought he would.

  I never thought in a million years that Grey would ever kiss me—be my first kiss outside of my circle of friends. Then again, never in a million years did I think Grey would be the first one to find out about my kleptomania. Life is kind of crazy that way, so full of twists and turns and unexpectedness, like my aunt contacting me from out of nowhere. I just really hope it turns out to be her.

  My grandma adjusts her thick glasses higher on her nose then shoves the shifter into drive. “Why do you look flushed?”

  “It’s hot in here,” I lie, cranking up the air conditioning.

  “It’s not hot.” She violently twists the knob, flipping the air right back off. “And those pants you’re wearing are too tight.” That’s all she says to me before steering out onto the road.

  She doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive and hardly speaks to me during dinnertime. Unlike my mom, my grandma is a woman of few words. She has the same views on clothes and how one should act isn’t as verbal about it. She likes to make statements and sort of leave them hanging in the air for people to figure out the underlying meaning themselves.

  Like: “Your hair looks tangled,” which means, “Go comb your hair.” Or: “Your shoes look worn out.” Translation: “Buy some new shoes.” Or, my personal favorite: “You’re too tall.” Yeah, I’m not sure what the heck she really meant by that one. It’s not like I can just stop being tall.

  It gives me a lot of time to think about how I’m going to handle this thing with Aunt Ashlynn, and I come up with a plan. I just cross my fingers it doesn’t backfire on me.

  At around eight o’clock, my grandma pokes her head into my room. “I’m going to bed. Lights out.”

  I scoot toward the edge of the bed. “Wait. Can I ask you something really quickly?”

  She impatiently taps her finger against her watch. “If you must, but make it snappy.”

  “I’m doing a project at school about my family, and I need some information about all of my family members. I was wondering if you could tell me Aunt Ashlynn’s birth date.”

  Her skin turns pallid. “Can’t you just ask your mother?” she snaps.

  “The project’s due on Monday,” I lie way too breezily. God, I’m becoming a real pro. “And I need to work on it all this weekend.”

  “What a ridiculous project.” She huffs an exasperated breath. “It’s July twenty-fifth.” Then she flips off the lights, backs out of my room, and closes the door.

  July twenty-fifth. Okay, that’s a start.

  I sit on my bed in the dark for a half an hour to make sure she’s asleep before I sneak out my window, scale down the tree, and jog to the corner of the street where Wynter is waiting for me in her car.

  “Holy shit!” she exclaims when I yank open the door and dive inside. “What the hell, Lu? I didn’t even see you coming?”

  “That’s because I have ninja skills,” I tease, hunkering down in the seat. “Hurry and drive away so I can stop worrying that my grandma’s going to stop me.”

  “She’s, like, eighty years old. She probably can’t even see in the dark.” Still, she presses on the gas and peels away from the curb.

  I only straighten in the seat when we’re miles away from my home. Then I kick off my sneakers, crank up some music, and prop my feet up onto t
he dash, tapping my toes to the rhythm. “How many people do you think are going to be at this party?” I ask as I roll down the window, and a cool breeze blows through.

  “I don’t know.” She turns on her blinker as she taps the brakes at the intersection. “Probably a lot since they won the game.”

  “They did? That’s good. I’m glad. I wish I could have been there to watch them win.” I tilt my head toward the window, unable to stop smiling.

  “You do, huh?” Her tone implies an accusation. “That’s interesting since you’ve never really cared about sports before.”

  “I have, too,” I respond. “I’ve even gone and watched Beck play a few times.”

  “And you were bored the entire time.” She cranes the wheel into a turn down the side road that leads to her and Beck’s neighborhood.

  “Stop implying stuff.”

  “Just say it, then, and I’ll let it drop.”

  “Say what?”

  “Luna,” she warns.

  “Oh, fine. I wish I could’ve been at the game so I could see Grey play, okay?” My feet fall to the floor as I sit up and put my shoes back on. “There. Are you happy?”

  “Very.” She grins at me as she parks the car in her driveway in front of the garage. “But I don’t get why you’re making a big deal out of this. So, you like Grey. Who cares? Just own it. You’ve liked guys before and never cared when I teased you about it.”

  I know, but still . . .”Sometimes I feel like I’m being ridiculous going after a guy who shot me down once, as though I’m being naïve about the situation and getting too caught up in it before I even really get to know him.”

  “I don’t think you’re being naïve.” She silences the engine, turns off the headlights, and extends her hand for the door handle to get out. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve done anything other than talked to him and helped him with his grades.”

  I bite down on my lip. “That’s not entirely accurate.”

  “What?” She gapes at me through the darkness. “Oh, my God, you kissed him, didn’t you?”

  “No,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt. “He kissed me.”