Chapter 7: Stripe

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"What?! Steal a Guinea pig?! What are you?! Insane?!" I yelled across the car at Craig while tugging on my hair.

"Precisely," he said back at me.

Oh hell no. I'm not doing this.

"Craig, no. We are not stealing an animal. Do you have any idea how much trouble we could get into?"

I was yanking on my hair so hard that clumps were coming out into my hands.

"Yes I know, and I honestly don't give a shit. Also, stop pulling out your hair. You don't need to be shedding in the car because then my mom will definitely find out that I had someone in here with me."

Is he serious right now? He has to be joking.

Ignoring the statement about the hair, I crossed my arms and shook my head.

"No. I don't care what you say. I'm not h-helping you."

He glanced over at me and smirked.

"Oh really? I thought you couldn't say no to me."

I turned away from him as my face began to blush a light red.

"I can when it comes to committing a fucking crime," I growled from under my breath.

He rolled his eyes at me.

"We're not going to be committing a crime Tweek. We're actually doing the pet store a favor."

"A favor? What do you mean by that?" I asked.

He sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"That shop has been open for years and barely anyone buys from there, well unless it's a cat or dog. The smaller animals never get any attention. The animals that are in there now are the same ones that have been there since we were 12. It's not good dude."

I sighed back at him and closed my eyes. He was right. Those poor babies had been practically rotting away in cages. It broke my heart just thinking about it.

As we stopped at another red light, he looked over at me and smiled.

"Whenever I go on walks when my mom and dad fight, I always make sure to walk past the pet store. In the windows by the entrance is where you can see the guinea pigs. One of them always comes up the the glass and stares back at me. It's like he wants me to take him home, and tonight I'm finally going to."

I looked down and away from Craig as I twiddled my thumbs.

"But, your parents won't allow you to have any more guinea pigs remember?" I blurted out, trying not to come off as rude. "You don't have the best luck when it comes to them."

What I was saying was true. Craig had multiple guinea pigs when he was little, but they all managed to just drop dead somehow. The last time he had one was when we had been in middle school, but his mom quickly banned him from getting another after it accidentally ate a lego. He literally had a guinea pig cemetery in his back yard. He frowned as he turned his attention back onto the road as we drove through the intersection. He was ignoring what I had said, but I didn't blame him though. I wouldn't want to be reminded of it either. His dad had constantly blamed him for every single one of his pet's deaths even though it was never his fault. Imagine being 8 years old and having to go bury your beloved guinea pig all by your self because it was "your fault."

Poor Craig.

I could tell that he was upset, so I kept my head down and watched out the window as we made our way down the street that the pet store was on. We parked down the road and away from the store so no one could see the car. He must've noticed that I wasn't looking at him because he then tapped me on the arm.

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