Page 53 of Kiss Collector
“What’s your mom’s number?” I ask Rob.
The small freckles across his face pale. “I— It was his idea!” He points to Zeb.
Oh, right. Nice try.
But when I look at Zeb, he swallows. His eyes are wide and watery. He’s trying not to cry, and I realize in that moment Rob is not lying. Fear and panic rise inside me, and it’s as if my baby brother slips into a dimension I can’t quite reach.
I point to Rob and the other kid with a shaking finger. “Go. Tell your mom I’m bringing Zebediah home.”
“Are you gonna tell her?” Rob croaks.
I waffle. The right thing to do would be to tell his mom, and my mom, too, but I can’t bear to. Because it was Zebby’s idea. My sweet, not-so-innocent-anymore Zeb.
“No,” I say. “Just get out.”
The boys rush from the store, and as soon as they’re gone, Zeb’s head falls and his body is racked with sobs. I point to a spot behind the counter.
“Sit there until I’m done working.”
He pulls himself together enough to crumple into the spot I commanded. He wraps his arms around his bony knees andkeeps his head down, sniffling now and then. My heart feels more ragged than it’s ever been. I can’t help but blame my parents. It all goes back to them. Especially my stupid, selfish, cheating dad.
I pace the store, robotic as I deal with customers, and feeling eternally grateful that nobody else was here when the incident happened. I hope to God Mrs. McOllie or mall security don’t look at the surveillance tape. I’m relieved when my replacement, a girl who commutes to George Mason University, shows up for the late shift, and Zeb and I can leave. I finger the coupon in my pocket that someone gave all the mall employees today: a free pretzel from Uncle Andrew’s.
I stop in front of the shop and get an almond one, Zeb’s favorite. I don’t look directly at him, but I can see him wiping his nose and face on his sleeve. We walk silently from the mall to the minivan and both climb in. I set the pretzel in his lap. Zeb looks up at me in confusion.
“It’s for you.”
“What? Why? No, I can’t.”
I turn toward him, grabbing his hand. “I love you, Zebby.” I swallow hard. “You’re a good boy who made a bad decision. But if anyone else had been there, you would be in police custody right now. I want you to think about that really hard.”
His entire face crumples, and I pull him toward me, wrapping him in a strong hug as he lets out a low, wounded wail. I know his pain, because his pain is mine, and mine is his.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” I say. “I just need you to learn from this. Can you do that? Can you never,everdo anything like that again?”
“Yes.” He hiccups. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.” I pull away and wipe my face, then inhale deeply and put the car in drive. “Now eat your pretzel.”
I want to put him in Bubble Wrap and make all his decisions for him—better decisions than my parents and I have made for ourselves. I don’t want it to be like this for him, and it kills me that I can’t keep him safe and innocent. Why is life so hard and complicated?
Chapter Nineteen
Thursday Night
My phone buzzes as I sit on the couch with Zebby. He’s still off after what happened at the Bowtique.
It’s a text from Lin.Porpoise Beach party. Wanna go?
I’m relieved that she’s texting me. She and Monica have been quiet today, barely responding to my texts about what happened with Rube and Joel. I know they’re still annoyed, but maybe this night out will be what we need to get back on track.
Porpoise Beach isn’t really a beach. It’s a local lake with sand brought in for a makeshift beach. It’s Garrison High territory, another rival, but not as vicious as Hillside. Lin has some friends at Garrison who she knows from gymnastics classes.
Before I can agree to go, I need to clear the air.
Is Monica still mad at me?I ask.
No. She’s over it. Are you?
