Page 60 of Can You Take It?

It’s a brush-off. I can tell by the way her shoulders hunch slightly, the way her jaw tightens like she’s trying not to show how much it hurts. She’s used to this—used to being left behind, used to dealing with shit on her own. The worst part? She’s sofucking good at pretending it doesn’t bother her, like it’s just another fact of life she’s learned to accept.

She shifts in her seat, pulling her knees up and tucking them under her chin. I hate that I know more about her than she probably realizes, and I hate that I can’t fix any of it.

“So, what about you?”

“What about me?”

I push through, not willing to let the conversation die in this dark place. “Any embarrassing stories I should know about?”

Her lips twitch, and she finally lets out a soft laugh. It’s small, barely there, but it’s something. I watch her untuck her legs, and I know it’s a sign she’s starting to relax.

“I’ve done things,” she says, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“Yeah?” I press. “Care to share?”

“Nothing you’d care about.”

“Try me.”

“Well,” she says, dragging out the word like she’s deciding how much of herself to give away. I can see that mischievous glint in her eye, the one that always makes me curious about what's really going on in her head. She leans back against the couch, playing with the empty glass in her hand, spinning it slowly. “There was this one time, I was at the mall with my cousin...”

I raise an eyebrow, settling in. This is going to be good.

“So, we were just wandering around, window shopping mostly. That’s when we walk past this little jewelry store, one of those fancy ones where everything’s sparkling in the windows, and I saw this necklace. It wasn’t even the most expensive thing in there, just this delicate little silver chain with a tiny heart pendant. And I wanted it. I don’t know why, but it was like this weird, impulsive thing. I just had to have it.”

Izel's fingers trace the rim of the glass as she talks, like she’s visualizing the necklace. “So, we walk in, right? My cousin’s busychecking out some earrings, and I’m just browsing. The store was pretty empty, and the salespeople weren’t really paying attention to me. They were all focused on this older lady who was asking a million questions about diamond rings or something. I should’ve just walked out then, but no. I decide it’s a brilliant idea to pocket the necklace.”

“You didn’t think they’d notice?” I laugh.

“Honestly? I don’t know what the hell I was thinking,” she admits, grinning. “I figured, it’s a small piece of jewelry, right? They’ve got thousands of those little things lying around. Who’s going to miss one tiny necklace?”

“You do realize you’re sitting here admitting to a felony in front of a cop, right? Doesn’t matter if you were eight when this little adventure of yours went down.”

She snorts, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. “Please. You’re not going to cuff me over some dumb necklace I failed to swipe a million years ago. Besides, I wasn’t eight. I was eighteen.”

I freeze, mid-sip of my drink. “You were eighteen? And you didn’t know shoplifting was a crime?”

She laughs, tipping her head back. “Nope. Not a fucking clue. What can I say? I wasn’t exactly valedictorian material.”

I shake my head, amused but also... confused. Who the hell reaches adulthood and doesn’t know stealing’s a crime? The more she talks, the more little red flags start popping up. But the way she’s grinning at me now, like she’s daring me to judge her... I ignore it. Maybe she was just that reckless back then. Or maybe she’s fucking with me. Could be either one with her.

She sets her glass down, crossing her legs and shooting me that playful look again. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” I blink, catching up slowly. “My turn for what?”

“Your turn to share another interesting story, genius,” she teases.

I let out a breath and lean my head back, thinking. “Okay… there was this one time—years ago, when I was a rookie—I arrested this guy for stealing a garden gnome. And I mean, he didn’t just take it. He dressed it up, drove it around in his truck for weeks, taking pictures of it at different locations like it was on vacation. This guy even made a whole scrapbook of the gnome’s 'adventures.'”

Izel snorts, a genuine laugh escaping her. “You’re shitting me.”

“I wish,” I chuckle. “The dude was so serious about it too. I remember asking him why he did it, and he just looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘Gnomes need love too, Officer.’”

She laughs, and the sound feels good, lighter than the usual tension between us. She reaches for the bottle, pouring another shot and pushing it into my hand. “Alright, that deserves a drink.”

I grin, throwing the shot back, barely feeling the burn. “That was my life back then. Chasing down petty criminals with more stupid than sense.”

“You must’ve loved that. Catching people at their dumbest.”

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