The Thief

by Aine Crabtree

  “It’s just vegetables,” she said, mollified.

  “Covered in butter,” I said, smiling.

  “That’s called compromise, Juliet,” she said, and I thought I saw a hint of a smirk.

  Maybe I had her all wrong. Maybe I had home all wrong. I ate my plate of vegetables covered in butter, and at least for tonight, I was happy.

  Chapter 10

  Camille

  At school Monday morning, Camille found herself the recipient of more than her usual allotment of attention.

  She slid into her desk at the front of Tailor’s classroom and was immediately approached by someone who’d never addressed her directly before.

  “Where’s Graham?” Rhys Ryan demanded. He stood over her, pale eyes narrowed, arms folded. He could have been handsome, she supposed, if it weren’t for his permanent look of superiority. And his clothes were too clean and pressed, like he’d stepped out of a magazine. Probably hadn’t climbed a tree or a fence in his life.

  Camille shrugged. What made him assume she knew Jul’s whereabouts?

  “She called in sick,” Sakamoto said, coming in from the hall. He twirled an apple deftly with the fingers of one hand.

  “How do you know that?” Ryan asked, then shook his head in annoyance. “Never mind.”

  “Oooh, are you worried about her?” Sakamoto asked, following him to their usual seats in the back of the room. “Is it true love? We could double date. People would talk.”

  “Is there a soap opera that lives in your brain?” Ryan snapped.

  “So that’s a yes. How do you feel about bowling?”

  “You are a moron.”

  “Mini golf?”

  Camille blocked out their continuing argument. Any event that kept Sakamoto away from her was good, as far as she was concerned.

  She was disappointed that the other girl was away, though. Gabriel had said to keep an eye on her, and besides that, they needed to figure out when they were going to put together this lame experiment display for the school festival. They only had two weeks to get it in order, and Camille wasn’t exactly an expert on group dynamics. She hoped Jul returned soon so that she wouldn’t have to manage both boys on her own.

  By the time chemistry came around, though, Sakamoto’s attention had wandered again.

  He sat down next to her in Jul’s empty chair. “I miss Jul. This is boring. Hey, are you ticklish?”

  “No,” she said flatly. She would end his life if he tried anything.

  “Scary scary,” he said. “So the metal arm thing, I think I’ve got it figured out. You’re actually a cyborg, am I right?”

  She tried to ignore him, like Ryan seemed to. Maybe she needed to learn how to hide behind a book like he did. She was already down Jul’s help - all the equations in science class were hard enough without Sakamoto being even more ADD than usual.

  “Robots are antisocial, you’re antisocial,” he went on, oblivious. “Plus it would explain how freakishly strong you are.”

  What? Her eyes zipped to him, but he just wore that same small, unreadable smile. She thought it genuinely strange that for all his chatter he never seemed to have much of an expression.

  “Cyborg, right?” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, cautiously. “Cyborg.”

  “No, I don’t like that either,” he said, leaning back. “Cyborgs don’t get mad. How about a Hulk? Wait, can there be more than one of those? I could ask the nerds, they’d know...”

  Was he toying with her or was he really just an idiot?

  “He’s just an idiot,” Ryan said, apparently able to read her expression. That’s when she noticed what he was reading. It looked exactly like the journal Jul had, but hers had been blank. What he was holding was full of sprawling ink sketches. They couldn’t be the same, but the cover was identical. Noticing her attention, he immediately shut it and put it away.

  On the way to the cafeteria, she was surprised to spot Jul hovering around her locker, looking indecisive. So she’d come to school after all. Camille considered just walking past. Jul’s business was none of hers, and realistically she didn’t have the vocabulary to carry on a real conversation. And yet...

  “You’re sick?” Camille asked her.

  Startled, Jul looked down at her. “Oh,” she said, with some relief, “well, yes. Just a cold. I went for um, a walk in the rain, and I guess it got the better of me. I thought I should stay home, but Bea - I mean, my grandmother - she said a little cold wasn’t anything worth skipping school over, so...” she looked over her shoulder anxiously. “Here I am, I guess.”

  Something had the girl on edge, but Camille couldn’t think of a good way to inquire. So instead she just said, “Lunch?”

  “Oooookay,” Jul said distractedly, glancing around again. “Before the rush. Yeah. Good idea.”

  They picked up trays and got in line. The cafeteria generally had two or three choices, different every day. Despite her dislike of the principal, having Japanese leadership was probably the reason they sometimes had things like ramen, katsudon, and beef curry on the menu. They didn’t taste quite like they did in Japan, but she had to admit it was nice to get some of her favorite comfort foods on occasion. Today, however, she was out of luck. Spaghetti, hamburgers, and some kind of chicken and vegetable pie. She distrusted the pale sauce that oozed from the crust.

  Jul also looked disappointed at the menu.

  “Could I get the spaghetti without any meatballs?” she asked meekly.

  The lunch lady just scooped up a serving and handed her a plate.

  “Thanks anyway,” Jul sighed, shoulders drooping.

  Camille got a plate of the same and moved on to the drink fountain.

  “Hey...um...” Jul said, picking up a bottle of water. “Can I sit with you? I’d rather not, um, sit alone. If you don’t mind.”

  Camille saw her flick a glance to the end of the line, where Ryan and Sakamoto were at odds again. Jul had always sat alone until now. She was avoiding one of them? Her money was on Sakamoto. It must be because of what he’d done to her journal.

  “Okay,” Camille said, getting a cup of some kind of fruity red drink claiming to be from Hawaii.

  Once they sat down, Jul relaxed slightly, though she continued to survey the room, sipping absently on her water. Camille wondered what Jul’s purpose had been, asking for her company specifically. Was she supposed to be intimidating? Or had she just been the closest person at the time? Camille twirled her fork in her spaghetti, thinking that this really shouldn’t bother her. It didn’t matter either way, right? She was just supposed to keep an eye on the girl, for Gabriel. She didn’t need a friend.

  Suddenly Jul went rigid. Camille glanced over her shoulder; Ryan was headed in their direction, carrying a tray, attention zeroed in on Jul. Camille looked at her, baffled.

  “Umm...ahh...” Jul stalled, then her gaze landed on the two closest people. “Mac! Destin!” she said with forced cheer. “You guys should sit with us. You know. Take up all the chairs.”

  Mac Dupree seemed too excited by her invitation to notice her unusual phrasing. “Absolutely!” he said, sliding his tray onto the table. His tall friend was more hesitant, but sat down as well.

  Camille snuck another glance at Ryan. He had veered away, expression sour. Jul’s ploy had worked, whatever her reasons. Why on earth was she avoiding Ryan? Sure, he was in a perpetual bad mood, but he seemed pretty harmless from what she’d seen.

  She turned back around, surveying the table. Whatever Jul was avoiding, she wasn’t sure this was better. The top half of Destin Heron’s face was permanently obscured by a thick curtain of dark hair; the bottom half was already hidden behind an American comic, something to do with spaceships and aliens. Jul’s attention was fixed on her spaghetti, single-mindedly pushing the chunks of meat out of the way. Camille was fine with tucking into her own pasta in silence, but it seemed Mac wouldn’t stand for it.

  “Should have gone for the chicken pot pie,” he said.

&n
bsp; “Same problem,” Jul shrugged.

  Mac gestured to her plate. “Cold pasta, nasty tomato sauce, old hamburger meat.” He swept a hand over his own plate. “Chicken. Vegetables. Potatoes. A glorious flaky crust. They have absolutely nothing in common.”

  “They both have meat in them.” Jul smiled sheepishly.

  “You’re a vegetarian?” he said, like she had a horrible disease. “I am so sorry, you must live in pain every day.”

  Jul shook her head, smiling. Her straight, dark hair swept around her shoulders. “I just don’t like meat, alright? That’s all.”

  “Don’t tell me you are too?” Mac asked Camille.

  In response, she speared a meatball and popped it into her mouth.

  “See, look, even the gold ranger is more sane than you.”

  Camille’s eyebrows went up. Did he just call her a Power Ranger?

  “Being vegetarian is actually really healthy,” Jul explained.

  “Well there’d better be some benefit if you’re going to pass up all the food that tastes good, I guess.”

  “Keep it up, you’re doing really well,” Destin muttered.

  “I mean, whatever,” Mac floundered. “It takes all kinds, right?”

  He was so obvious it was painful to watch. Camille sighed and pushed away her pasta.

  “It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?” Jul said.

  Camille nodded, knowing Jul meant the food, not Mac. The dark-skinned girl could be pretty oblivious too, in her own way. Why am I still sitting with these people? she wondered, slumping down in her seat. Because if I leave, Ryan will probably come back. Maybe she could swipe a couple of cookies on the way out...

  “Told you, should have gotten the pot pie,” Mac said loftily.

  “Pot pie...” Camille muttered, trying out the name. “Weird sauce.”

  “What? No, the sauce is awesome,” Mac objected.

  Destin reached around his comic and nudged his untouched plate towards her. “You can have mine, if you want. I’m not hungry.”

  Camille eyed the dish suspiciously. This ‘pot pie’ seemed to be having some kind of identity crisis. It wasn’t sure if it wanted to be a pie or a stew. It smelled alright, though. And she was really hungry...

  “Thank you,” she said, reaching for it with her fork.

  “How do you get that tall without eating anything, man?” Mac wanted to know.

  “Magic beans,” Destin said, turning a page.

  Despite the weird color, the pie thing was good, Camille decided. She pulled Destin’s plate closer.

  “See?” Mac told Jul. “The pot pie claims another convert.”

  “That doesn’t mean I - oh!” Jul exclaimed, staring behind her.

  Camille felt something cold drop on her shoulder. Applesauce dripped down the front of her shirt. She looked up and saw a girl who might have been beautiful if she weren’t so smug.

  “Oops,” Hayley Dupree said, standing over her with a tray of food and looking utterly insincere. “Sorry, my hand slipped.”

  Immediately, Camille picked up her cup of punch and chucked it in Hayley’s face. Her expression was priceless. The red sugar water ran all down her white blouse.

  “You little bitch!” she shrieked, swiping at her outfit frantically.

  Mac was laughing loudly.

  “My hand slipped,” Camille echoed her, grinning.

  “Ugh!” Hayley shrieked, tossing her water at Camille. Ice skittered all over the table. The rest of the cafeteria had gone silent, watching them.

  Camille shrugged. There were other ways to win fights than using her fists. She grabbed a handful of her spaghetti and flung it at the girl. Hayley dodged most of it - the rest hit her pristine little friend, who squealed and upended her tray on Jul. Apparently that was the starting bell for chaos.

  “FOOD FIGHT,” someone yelled, and then the cafeteria was a warzone, handfuls of meals flying across the room. Jul sunk down in her chair, and Destin hid under the table. Mac managed to get a handful of jello into Hayley’s hair before she fled the room, yelling for the principal. Well. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted. She grabbed some more spaghetti, looking to tag Sakamoto, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Five minutes later, she was in Umino’s office, bits of ice still melting in her hair.

  “What a charming interlude you’ve caused,” the principal said frostily.

  “Hayley caused it,” Camille stated.

  “Ms. Dupree explained it all. What she did was accidental. What you did was on purpose. Now how are we going to make amends?”

  Suddenly the door burst open, and there was Jul, breathless. “Ms. Umino, it wasn’t her fault, ma’am, Hayley started it! Ask Mac and Destin, they saw it too!”

  Umino regarded Jul sternly for several moments. “Even if that were true,” she said, finally, “the fact remains that Ms. Teague exacerbated the situation.”

  Exacerbated? Camille wondered. What the hell does that mean?

  “I just, um, I just wanted you to know she didn’t start it,” Jul said meekly.

  “Very well, Ms. Graham.” The principal rose, straightening her suit jacket. “Still, reparations are in order. Since you seem so enthusiastic in supporting Ms. Teague in her endeavors, I am assigning you both to weekend cleaning detail, effective through the end of the semester. If you want to make a wreck of the indoors, you can contribute to its upkeep.”

  Jul’s light chocolate skin flushed. “Yes ma’am.”

  “And the ganguro?” Camille demanded. Rin Umino was from Japan, she’d know exactly what a ganguro was - dyed blonde, fake tanned, over-applied makeup. Was there a comparable word in English?

  A twitch in her facial muscles was the only sign of recognition. “Ms. Dupree has suffered enough indignity today,” the principal said, her eyes narrowing to a glare. “You need to fix your attitude.”

  Hayley needed to fix her outfit. Camille hid a grin.

  “Hai, sensei,” she acknowledged, making a deep formal bow.

  Umino clearly saw through the overdone gesture. “As I said,” she intoned, lip curling. “Your attitude. I will be speaking to your guardian about this incident.”

  Camille nodded this time. Speak to Gabriel all you want, she thought. We’re winning.

  Jul’s look, however, was one of fear.

  Umino gave her an appraising look. “Just make sure your work is done,” she told the tall girl.

  “Yes ma’am,” Jul copied her earlier nod, but with a more frantic motion, in repetition. “I’m sorry, ma’am, it won’t happen again.”

  So that’s how it was. Jul would assume she was a direct pipeline to trouble now.

  “Very well, you may both go,” Umino said, waving them out.

  In the hall, with the door shut behind them, Jul let out a long sigh of relief. “That could have been a lot worse,” she said. “Your um, guardian? Will they be mad?”

  Camille snorted. “Gabriel? No. High-five, probably.”

  Jul smiled. “You’re lucky.”

  Camille shrugged. Luckier if he’d let me in on his plans. But if Jul hadn’t burst in, Umino’s punishment might have been much worse...

  Camille looked at the other girl and inclined her head down the hall. “Coming?”

  “Oh! Yes,” Jul said. “I guess algebra happens no matter what.”

  “Too bad,” Camille agreed, as they walked.

  “I mean, if we’re going to get sentenced to trash detail, you’d think they’d have the decency to cancel classes. You caused a riot.”

  Camille snorted a laugh again.

  “Oh, excuse me, I mean you retaliated against an act of terrorism. Which inadvertently caused a riot.”

  “A riot,” Camille said, trying out the word. “Me. A riot. Badass.”

  “A food fight is a riot with edible projectiles,” Jul maintained. “We could advance warfare by decades if we could convince all sides to just use leftovers as ammunition.”

  Camille shook her head, smiling. “Good plan.” J
ul was pretty clever when she wasn’t apologizing.

  They turned a corner, and Jul put a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. Rhys Ryan stood in the hallway, expectant.

  “I just wanted to remind you about the display for the festival,” he said pushing his dark hair out of icy cold eyes. “You’re both responsible for it, remember?”

  Jul was looking anywhere but at Ryan, paling.

  “Your paper?” Camille returned.

  Ryan’s attention slid to her, briefly. “Finished,” he stated, then held out a folded scrap of paper to Jul. “Some suggestions.”

  Camille went to take it, but Ryan held it out of her reach. “Suggestions for someone who can actually read them,” he said, and Jul reluctantly took the paper, a light tremor in her fingers.

  “As you were,” he said dryly, and left.

  “Teme,” Camille muttered under her breath, then looked up at Jul. The guy had her spooked, alright. It was none of her business. She should leave well enough alone. “He did what?” she asked.

  “I just don’t...um...he scares me,” Jul said quietly. “We, uh...” she coughed. “He’s right, we really should start putting the display together.”

  Camille nodded. Might as well get it over with.

  “Do you know a good place we could meet?”

  She considered. “The cafe. It’s near.”

  “Oh, that one down the street? They don’t mind people working on stuff in there?”

  “I live there,” Camille said.

  Jul blinked slowly, processing the idea. “Oh. Oh! That’s...kind of awesome.”

  Camille shrugged. Maybe. She didn’t have a lot to compare it to. It was bigger than her old flat and it always smelled like frosting and coffee. If you were into that kind of thing.

  “How about this weekend?” Jul said.

  “Friday,” Camille said. “Closes at 6.”

  “Cool,” Jul said. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

  Or you could explain what’s really going on... Camille thought, but they continued on to class in silence.