Page 26 of Sweet Keeper

“Steal—no, more likeborrowhis phone and delete…bringit to me, and I’ll delete the message.”

It’s official. Bree Pierce is a mad woman and has a death wish. There’s no way in hell that I’m going to be able to pull off a robbery. Besides, Carter would cut my balls if he caught me stealing his phone.

“Not gonna happen.”

“Please?” Bree asks with a pout.

Not even if she crawled on her knees.

“Don’t even try,” I cut her off. “It would be best if you gathered what’s left of your dignity and left.”

A long and strained sigh erupts from her.

“I’ve resigned to believe that it doesn’t exist. I was born without it. It’s the only flaw of my personality.”

“I can think of a few more,” I whisper under my breath.

“What did you just say?”

Bree’s eyebrows shoot up, and her glare is daring me to repeat what I said just to see if I have the balls to do it.

I’d rather keep them safe and away from her rage.

“That I need to study more.”

She bites her lip.

“You won’t help me?”

I purse my lips together on a tight line.

“I’m not suicidal,” I say, grabbing the doorknob. “Do you want my most profound and honest advice on how to handle this? Drop out.”

“From college?” Bree creaks out the question.

“At the current time? From life.”

I offer her a final smile, enjoying her expression that yells to the four winds how much she wants to kill me, and close the door. Going back to my place at the table, I touch the laptop as my eyes linger on the paused video.

Reality hits me like a cold wave. I’m wasting my time. I’m not going to learn a thing this way. I won’t pass the class, and I’ll have to say goodbye to my scholarship. I’ll end up working with my dad or sweeping the cut hair from my mother’s salon.

Biting my inner cheek, I make a desperate decision that I’ll probably regret in the future.

I’m going to steal that damned phone.

Chapter Eight

Ican’t stop the tremble shaking my hands. They just keep moving out of control as I walk through the hall on my way to the chemistry classroom. I’m hyperconscious of the extra weight in the pocket of my jeans. It’s light, but I’m paranoid and anxious, so it feels like I’m carrying a brick. Hell, it’s not eventhatbig of a deal, but I can’t help but feel that I’m going to get thrown in jail if I get caught by the police.

I stole the phone.

I, Stanley McKinley, stole a freaking phone. Not just any phone, but my housemate’s. I’m not even sure how I pulled it off. I sneaked into his room when he locked himself in the bathroom. It didn’t take me long to reach the phone sitting on the nightstand, charging and accessible. It was an easy task. However, that doesn’t mean that I didn’t feel like I was about to die the whole time. During those two minutes, I felt and heard every noise down to my core. I sweated like a pig, and I still haven’t been able to calm my heartbeat.

If my mom finds out that now I steal phones to pass my classes, I won’t see the sunlight again.

Or maybe I’m exaggerating.

Considering how detached Carter is when it comes to social media and keeping in contact, maybe he won’t realize that his phone is missing. He barely uses it. I’ve heard him curse when it rings, so it’s not like he cares.

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