Pretty Crooked (17 page)

The lock sprang apart in my hand. Even I was surprised at how easy it was as I pulled the door open. I had to move fast: I guessed I had about a forty-second window, give or take. Drew’s North Face backpack was in here, but when I felt around in the front pocket, the wallet—the fat wallet I’d eyed up for three days—was not.
No matter
, I thought, feeling sweat break out all over my body. There had to be something in here. A phone, maybe? I wasn’t going to risk locker breaking and entering without some kind of payoff.

Seconds were ticking by. I felt my body temperature rising with each one. Ten left, at most, to find something.

C’mon, Willa. Make it happen
.

I hurriedly rifled through the other pockets in the bag and brought up some pens, a lighter, a pack of Trident. And then … what was this? Cool metal, heavy links.

No way. He’d left a watch in there.

I reeled it in and saw it was gold and Burberry.

Really, Drew? A Burberry? In your locker
? It’s like he was just waiting to get ripped off. I would’ve felt sorry for him, almost, if he hadn’t said that vile stuff about Mary the other day.

I pocketed the item, closed the locker, and practically skipped back into the auditorium to listen to Cassidy Greene and her fellow a capellians singing “Ride Like the Wind,” like all the other good boys and girls.

The lack of wallet in Drew’s locker meant I had to make one quick stop on my way to the mall after school. Finer Things Pawnshop was technically in Scottsdale, on a barren little street in an area with a lot of warehouses and water towers and other things that were probably necessary but best left forgotten. The neon signs flared
CASH, EASY TRADE
, and
WE ACCEPT GOLD
from the street. The heat was even less forgiving in this area, with only asphalt road and low concrete buildings to radiate it back. There were palm trees here, as with everywhere else, but they looked ratty and neglected, like they might shower brown fronds on an innocent passerby.

I locked up my bike, taking care to give it an extra few lengths of cable. I was a long way from Paradise Valley, and the last thing I needed was to come out and find my bike wheelless.

Inside the shop a row of electric guitars hung from the ceiling over glass cases of jewelry and coins. Buzzing fluorescent tubes illuminated shelves of TVs, stereos, gaming consoles, and computers, and racks of guns and fur coats stretching for days.

I approached the window in the back of the store, which was like a ticket booth but with bars. An elderly woman with a bright red wig, clashing coral lipstick, and a powdery veneer of foundation stared at me over her bifocals.

“What you got?” she asked in a smoker’s rasp. “Be descriptive. I’m almost blind, even with these damn things.”

“It’s a watch.” I slid it into the slot under the window.

She frowned, turning it over in her small, wrinkled hands. “Man’s watch. Daddy’s? No, don’t answer, sweetie. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear any more sob stories. Are you pawning or selling?”

“What’s the difference?”

“You pawn you have ninety days to change your mind and buy it back. I need to take ID and your fingerprints. You sell it’s mine.”

Fingerprints and ID would not do, not at all. “Selling, then.”

“Well, I can give you five hundred. The watch is worth a lot more, but this is a pawnshop. We’re not exactly known for our fair deals.”

“I’ll take it,” I said, relieved. Five hundred was fine by me—more than enough to get something substantial on my shopping trip.

She winked at me, then pulled off her glasses, exposing watery blue eyes.

“Five hundred it is. Here’s a little secret. Next time, you can try to bargain. Can’t promise I’ll budge, but you should at least try.” She opened her cash register and
pulled out the bills and tucked them into an envelope, which she slid back to me under the window. “Here you go, kid. Merry Christmas.”

It was going to be a very merry Christmas for someone, no doubt.

Inspired by Kellie, I had been tempted to buy Sierra a Stella McCartney top at Saks, but I knew it might give me away, especially since we’d been surrounded by other people when she’d made that remark. Instead, I selected a filmy Catherine Malandrino number. It had a generous fit, a chicly angled neckline, and the softest silk I’d ever brushed my fingers on.

Afterward, I stopped to congratulate myself with a cappuccino at the Plaza Coffee Company, a pagoda-shaped stand in the middle of the mall. Not that I needed it, exactly. My hands were already shaking from the natural adrenaline rush of my day’s conquest. And as soon as I refueled I was going to do some more major spending, care of my good buddy Drew Miller.

“I got these shirts two for one at Ann Taylor,” the pudgy, fiftysomething woman in front of me said to her bag-mule shopping companion. “It was a
steal
.”

You don’t know the half of it
, I was thinking.

Just then a pair of hands covered my eyes. “Guess who?”

It was a guy’s voice. My suddenly blackened vision disoriented me. I had no idea who it could be, and this
wasn’t exactly the best time for surprises.

“I don’t know,” I snapped, on edge. “Who is it?”

“Well, that was quick,” he said, removing his hands. It was Aidan. I went a little weak at the sight of his face, so close to mine. I could practically count his eyelashes. “You really sucked the excitement out of that game.”

“I’m not here to excite you,” I said, still flustered.

He wagged a finger at me. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I think that’s precisely your job.”

A very long, loaded second elapsed as I stared into his eyes, speechless.

“… Because I just so happen to be stuck here, waiting for my car to be serviced. It’s the beauty of owning a Mercedes—the concierge will drive you anywhere you want to go.”

“Sounds great.” I smiled. “But I’m kind of busy. Maybe the Mercedes people can liven things up. Call and see if they can send out a few mimes or a guy in a Barney suit.”

He patted me on the arm condescendingly. “Ha. I do love your quick wit. You happen to be very cute when you snark out like that.”

I rolled my eyes in order to distract him from the twitching that was happening inside. It felt like my facial features were all going on strike at once.

“The eye-rolling, not so much. That just pushes it over the cuteness edge, you know?” He put a hand on my back and peered over my shoulder. “What have you got there in the bag?”

“Nothing.” I felt my face getting warmer. “It’s just a shirt.”

“Can I see?” He reached for it with a quick hand.

“No!” I practically shouted.

Aidan backed up a couple steps. “Fine. Hold on to your bag, then. I wasn’t going to steal it or anything.”

I tried to soften my tone. “I mean, it’s just a girl’s shirt.”

But it was too late. He was still staring at me like I was nuts. “What is it with you, Willa?”

“What about me?”

“Why’re you so cagey?”

“I’m not cagey.” I sighed. This was getting into weird territory. “Like I said: I’m busy.”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Because I have to
, I thought.
Because if I didn’t, I might actually really like you. And then I’d be in trouble
. I turned toward him, trying to scowl, and he was giving me a fake pathetic look.

“Why do I hate you? Hmm. Let me think about that. There are numerous reasons, really.”

“What?” His face puckered up into a frown. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Okay, then.” I relented. “Tell me something about you.”

“Well, I’m a math prodigy, for one thing. I finished Calculus One and Two by freshman year. And I’m pretty great with computers.”

“That’s just nerdy.”

“I had the chicken pox in sixth grade.”

“Yawn.”

“I’ve been to five of the seven continents,” he bragged.

“Is that it? ’Cause that doesn’t really make me hate you any less.”

“How about this? I’m leaving Valley Prep.”

What did he say
? I whipped around quickly, like I was ducking a blunt object. “Why’s that?”

Aidan ran his hand through his perfectly tousled hair. “Because I hate that place. I’m just sick of it. And because my dad thinks I’m his little future CEO robot. The guy needs a serious wake-up call.”

“So you’re transferring?” I tried to picture VP without him and it was like looking at a picture that was Photoshopped into black-and-white. He was a major part of that place, at least for me. He belonged there. I couldn’t imagine going to school and never seeing him in the hallways, or in the courtyard, or in the dining hall—who would get on my nerves in the special way Aidan had? For all my trying not to care, I knew then that I would be sad to see him go. Like really sad. Like
was that a lump in my throat
? sad.

“No. I’m trying to get myself kicked out. Like I told you before, it’s unbelievably hard to get expelled from that place. I’ve pulled all kinds of stunts over the years—setting off fireworks in the gym, tagging my biology teacher’s black Roadster with hot-pink spray paint. I
don’t think I’ve gotten anything more than detention for a week.” He closed in on me and stuck his face close to mine. “What’s wrong? Are you going to miss me?”

My expression had fallen, I could feel it. He could see it for sure.

I forced a smile. The last thing I wanted was for him to think that I would miss him. “I guess the fire alarm didn’t work, then?”

“Nope. Which is part of the reason I’ve been laying low. I need to act when everyone least expects it. And I need to think big, like a giant, flagrant violation of VP’s code of conduct.”

“I see. So what’s next?” I asked, trying to resume the pace of our earlier conversation. “Growing pot plants in the greenhouse? Or how about bringing livestock to class? That might do the trick.”

It was my turn at the coffee bar, and I was relieved that I could turn away from his penetrating gaze for a moment. I couldn’t bear for him to see inside me like that. My feelings had swelled up and I could scarcely breathe, let alone make sense of them. I just needed a hot cup in my hands to bring me back to the moment. I placed my order and paid for it.

“Weren’t you just here?” the girl behind the counter asked Aidan. She looked like she was eighteen or so, but I didn’t recognize her from Prep.

“Yes, I was.” He lifted up a bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans and shook it like a maraca. “I’m just
waiting for this beautiful young lady here.”

Beautiful
?

“Well, please step aside, so I can help the next customer.”

I took my coffee to the milk-and-sugar area. Aidan watched as I set my bag down and dumped a few sugar packets into my drink and stirred.

“The thing is, Willa…”

I looked up from my coffee.

“… I’m dying. Did I mention I’m dying?”

I had to smile then. He always knew how to make me look.

“Dying?”

“So yeah, now that you know my darkest secrets, and you know that my days here are numbered … maybe we can hang out some time.”

“Aidan, did you ever stop to think that maybe I have a boyfriend?”

“You don’t,” he said plainly.

“How do you know that?”

“I have my sources. And who said I was asking you out?”

“You weren’t?”

“Well, I was. But you jumped to that conclusion pretty quickly. Which leads me to believe you have sex on the brain. I don’t really blame you, though.” He stared off into the distance, as if contemplating his own irresistible charms.

“Thank goodness.” I closed up my coffee and threw out my trash.

“Don’t you know, Willa? With that cute little face, I’d forgive you for anything. Well, nearly anything.”

I turned to face him. My heart was ricocheting like a Super Ball on a linoleum floor. Was he serious? Or was this more of his playing around? My senses were all out of whack. I no longer trusted myself.

Oh God
.

It was fight-or-flight time and my head was telling me flight. I couldn’t let Aidan Murphy distract me anymore.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I should get going. I have a lot of stuff to do.”
Like fixing the social order of our school
. “Good luck with your Mercedes.”

I set off, sipping as I walked. I needed to let the caffeine sink in. I needed to process. Maybe turning him down was the wrong thing to do. He was leaving. Who knew how many chances I would get? But all the lights and buzzing and people in the mall—not to mention my nerves—were crowding in on me. I couldn’t think straight.

“Wait!” he yelled as he ran up behind me.

Would he ever give up?

Did I really want him to?

I stopped and stared down at my feet, thinking. What was I fighting against? Maybe now was the time I should just turn around and give him my number, make a time
to hang out, and finally find out if Aidan Murphy was just messing with me or if he really meant business. Yes, that’s what I would do. I drew in my courage with a deep breath and looked up to meet him head-on.

But then he dangled my shopping bag in front of my face.

“Your shirt?”

“Oh, right.” I took it back, feeling my sudden bravado collapse like an inflatable lawn snowman midway through the holiday season. “Thanks.”

“You got it.”

I paused. Something in his face had slackened—some of the toughness had fallen away, like he wasn’t expecting anyone to look at him, like he didn’t have a line prepared. I felt my own lips part, my tongue pressing against my teeth. I wanted to say something, but my mind went blank as I stared into his eyes. I don’t know how long we were stuck there, but it felt like forever.

“Thanks for sticking up for Mary the other day,” I said finally. “That was really sweet of you.”

“In the dining hall? Yeah, well, I can’t just sit there and listen to that guy say stupid stuff like that. It makes me embarrassed to be part of his tribe, you know?” he said, already turning away. “Well, happy shopping, Colorado.”

I nodded and spun around, nearly running into a lady carrying a tray of toothpick-speared cheese cubes. There
was nothing to do but hurry onward as I clutched the bag and hoped that he hadn’t looked inside.