Beautifully Ruined (10 page)

“I’m not sure, Patrick,” Hilary starts, shoving her hands into the pockets of her peacoat. “Maybe it’s too soon for us to, you know,
go away
together.”

It is not too soon!

Definitely not!

Do it!

Patrick chuckles from where he stands. A chuckle that irks me because he could potentially tell her it’s okay to stay. He’s that great of a guy.

I drop my head back in exasperation. My aunt and this man need to leave. They need to leave, like, now! I have things to do tonight. I have a crime I need to commit in a few hours.

As predicted, Patrick opens his mouth. “If you think it’s too soon—”

I cut Patrick off before he can fill her mind with more nonsense about staying home. “Don’t be ridiculous, you two.” I give my aunt a good, playful shove in the shoulders, sending her careening into Patrick’s waiting arms. Yeah, maybe that was a bit too hard of a push but it
is
effective. Assuming she doesn’t think anything’s going on.

And if she doesn’t think anything is going on, the woman doesn’t know me at all.

“Are you planning a party or something?” my aunt asks suspiciously—straightening her jacket and smoothing down her hair. She looks to me, green eyes curious and cautious.

“Absolutely not,” I blurt with a laugh, avoiding my aunt’s eyes. They’re like little pools of green truth serum. I even snort which doesn’t help my case of being
completely innocent.
“I just want you two to have the bestest time there is.”
Bestest time?
What the hell is wrong with me? I might as well write
Future Criminal
across my forehead in neon pink block letters. “You’ve been through a lot lately and Patrick really wants to treat you to something fun. Just have a good time. Live it up, Auntie.”

Hilary examines me before she makes her decision—her final decision if she should escape for a weekend of bliss and whatever the hell else is awaiting them (well, that’s something I
don’t
want to think about, thank you very much) at their destination or if she’s babysitting a sixteen year old, like normal. Really, what trouble could I get into?

Yeah, no one answer that, please.

“Okay,” she finally concedes, looking to me sadly. I’m cheering in my head, mentally dancing in happiness. Patrick leads her around the car like a lovely gentleman—the largest grin covering his face—opening the passenger door for her. I’m giddy with excitement. “I’m leaving the car in your hands, Joey, please don’t crash it. Call me for anything. And I mean
anything
.”

“I promise to call if the house is on fire, if I’m dying, if a meteor strikes directly in our front yard.” I’m embellishing now. She looks like she’s ready to hit me upside the head. “I also know the number for the police, the hospital, poison control, animal control, and whatever I don’t know or have immediate access to, well, that’s why the internet was created.” Waving away her sarcastic look, I plaster the biggest smile on my face. “If anything happens, I promise to head straight next door.” No matter what, anyone next door would help me in my time of need.

The promise to call in case of emergency slightly worries her. Mostly, Hilary’s nervous to be alone with her boyfriend for three days. It’s so adorable. After they both hop in the car I watch Patrick back out of the driveway and drive down the street.

Alone.

I am finally alone.

Normally, that little thought would freak me out but not today. I’m on a mission.

I tug my phone from my pocket and search my contacts for her name. Stopping on Harley, I hit the
call
button.

“Hey, I’m alone.”

I call Kennie, Ksenia, and Milo and say the same thing.

After, I change into black jeans, black t-shirt, and black jacket. I even add a black hat to complete the ensemble. A knock sounds through the house and I bolt down the stairs, opening the door and letting Harley and Ksenia in—both wearing dark clothing. They smile at me and lounge around until Milo walks through the door, his unusually bright hair concealed beneath a hat that matches mine. The next knock alerts us to Kennie’s arrival. She steps through the door, sparkling and festive. She’s in black, all right, but a black sequined tunic top and yoga pants that stop beneath her knees.

“Kennie,” Harley says when she finally gets a good peek at our friend. “You do realize that we’re trying to go unseen here, right?”

Kennie looks down, her blonde hair tied high in a ponytail on the back of her head. “What?” she asks. “I’m wearing black.”

“You look like you’re about to hit the town or something,” Ksenia replies.

“You look like a disco ball,” Harley counters.

Kennie blushes. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

We wave her off and head out to the cars, deciding to take my aunt’s SUV because it is big enough to fit all five of us, and head into town toward my therapist’s office. It closed three hours ago—as is typical on a Friday night—so we should be good to get in and get out without being interrupted. Or caught. That’s key.

It’d be better to do this around midnight but Kennie has a game to cheer for in two hours. After that, uh, I don’t think her sobriety is strong enough to win out and the girl loves to party. It doesn’t help that she’s this week’s host—as selected by the cheerleaders.

“Remember the plan?” I ask, parking in the lot of the high school across the street.

“I keep lookout from the sign,” Ksenia pipes up as she ties her hair away from her face and tucks it beneath the hood of her sweatshirt.

“I’m heading in with you,” Harley tells me. Milo had issues with that part of the plan, thinking that he should go in with me. I nixed that.

“I stay with the car,” Kennie mutters with annoyance. Because she’s shiny, we decided to make her the getaway driver. I toss her the keys.

“I’ll keep a look for any lights in the building,” Milo chimes.

“Sounds about right,” I say before we part and take our places. It’s funny to think that we’re about to break laws. So funny, I could possibly cry. “Oh, and remember to keep your phones on vibrate. The last thing we need is
Sexy and I Know It
being the reason we’re all arrested.” I turn to Milo.

“I changed my ringtone,” he defends. “
What Does the Fox Say?
”

“If I’m arrested because of a damn fox, I promise to trade you for cigarettes,” I threaten.

“Noted.” His thumb swipes along his screen. “Phone is on vibrate.”

Now, was that so hard?

I walk up to the door, Harley trailing behind me, and try the handle. As I thought, but couldn’t make my mind believe, the door is locked. “Did you honestly believe the door—during after ours—would be unlocked?”

“I’m human, I make mistakes,” I respond, blushing from embarrassment.

“Yeah, I’m questioning that GPA of yours.” Harley pulls something from her hair—a bobby pin.

“It shouldn’t take me too long to get this open,” she murmurs as she twists and pokes the pin in the lock. “And you’re positive this place doesn’t have an alarm system?”

“Almost,” I answer, watching her struggle with the lock. She stops, turning to me, her mouth agape.

“
I thought you said this place didn’t have an alarm?
” she asks loudly. I shush her before someone can hear her.

“No,” I begin to correct her. “I said I know this place doesn’t have any surveillance cameras.” I hear a click from the lock and Harley removes the bobby pin, pushing the door open. “If it has an alarm system, well, that I’m not too certain about.”

“It’s unlocked, Joey,” Harley mutters angrily, looking up to me. “But if the cops come, I’m using you as a human shield until I can get away, then I’m stealing your car.” I laugh, noticing her narrowed-eyed glare in my direction. “I’m not kidding.”

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Noted.” I pass her and slink through the empty lobby. It has the familiar scent of crazy and new toys—
ah, home, sweet home
.

We aim for the filing room in the back of the building, passing several closed doors, one with a light seeping through the bottom. I exchange a nervous glance with Harley, but she only pushes me forward toward the door at the end of the hall with
FILES
plastered on the front with a plaque.

Obviously, I suck at breaking and entering—and crime in general—if I ignore the obvious.

I try the knob but it doesn’t turn. I should have seen that one coming.

“Hold on,” Harley mumbles, attacking the lock with the bobby pin, clicking it open in half the time it took for her to unlock the main door.

I slide into the room, smelling the scent of stale paper and dust. My nose tickles with a sneeze and I fight to stop it, tilting my head back and pinching my nostrils close. It doesn’t seem to work. I try my hardest not to be loud but the sneeze erupts from my mouth before I can cover my lips with my hands.

Harley slams the door shut as I dive behind a tall filing cabinet, my heart racing. Harley soon joins me, both of us listening for the slightest sound, the briefest movement. Her hand presses against her forehead. Slamming the door wasn’t her smoothest moment. There
is
someone in the building, we know that, I’m just not sure if they’re close enough to hear us or are even curious enough to seek out the sound. It was a loud slam—I bet Kennie heard it where she is. I’m hoping for Option C, they didn’t hear a thing.

My phone vibrates and a dark feeling overwhelms me.

Slowly, I pull the pink-cased smart phone from my pocket, holding my breath.

Ksenia:
Someone just left. I’m hiding behind the sign, Milo’s behind a bush, but it looks like there’s no one left in the building. I think you’re all clear.

“Ksenia thinks we’re alone,” I tell Harley, sliding my phone back into my pocket, preparing myself to search.

She nods her understanding and we start searching through the
A
files. I search for my file folder, Harley searches for my tapes on the other side of the room. She finds my tapes and shoves them into one of the drawstring bags we brought. They barely fit but she tugs it closed, slinging it onto her back just as I pull out my five-inch thick file. Not what I was expecting at all.

The thing has weight to it.

“Is that all?” Harley asks, astonished with the size of my file.

I think for a moment, shushing her. This can’t be all that’s here. It doesn’t feel like this is all there is. I know it’s a stupid notion but I have a feeling there’s a little more, a hidden cookie crumb I’m meant to find.

“Hold on a moment.”

“Come on, Joey,” Harley begs, looking behind her toward the door. “I’ve got a weird feeling being in here.”

I wave away this
feeling
she’s having and pull open the drawer labeled
L
and search for
Josephine Lucas
, my birth name. Near the back, I find it. It isn’t too large but it’s big enough to make me wonder what’s inside the manila folder. I tug it up and shove it, along with my other file, into the drawstring bag.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say with satisfaction.

We have no problem sneaking back out. I throw everything in the back of the car and Kennie drives everyone back to my house so they can get their cars and head to wherever they need to be. As I drop everything off onto my bed, after wishing everyone a safe travel back home and thanking them for helping me commit some crimes this evening—it’s the least I can do, right?—I shrug off my jacket and throw it behind me onto the chair by the window. I miss the chair and I hear the fabric meet the wall and slide down to the floor.

I turn to correct the problem and see the blinds across the alley right themselves. He’s watching me. As creepy as that sounds, I’m intrigued. I stare at the neighboring house for a moment, waiting for some type of movement, anything, but nothing happens.

I could just be the bigger person and text him first. I could apologize. I could beg for him to take me back. But I don’t do those things. I can’t do those things. I’ll hurt him—at some point in the future, our future, I’ll hurt him—I know to be true. So I close my window and lower my blinds. I’ll buy blackout curtains tomorrow. I’m officially shut into my room with my past and nightmares. It’s time to make a few discoveries.

I tackle the folders first, reading through the first one, the one about
Josephine Lucas
, a girl I don’t even know.

I flip it open and spot a picture of me in the first grade. My curly hair is wild about my head, my glasses are huge, and my two front teeth a missing. My nose is covered in a light smattering of freckles and I almost want to pinch the chubby cheeks of the little girl. She looks so happy, so excited for life and her smile is so
genuine, it hurts to look at the picture. Her smile is so large that her eyes are tightly closed.

But I can’t remember the little girl smiling up to me from the glossy photo.

I start reading:

Josephine Elizabeth Lucas