Crazy but Sweet, Sweet but Crazy

12: paper bag and grandmother

Elliot and I stood in front of my locker, reading a concise letter printed in Arial font- maybe size 12- on an A4 sized piece of paper, folded neatly into a cream colored envelope.

"If you have any shame about how your father tried to frame the innocent Lockwood family," I read aloud, "you won't be dating Elliot. Nor would you even be in this school. Please stop embarrassing everyone at Valley Oak."

Elliot pushed his hands into his pockets, and looked at me with an expression I couldn't read. "What are you going to do about this?"

"Usually I make these into confetti, but that'd be a shame." I closed the door of my locker, blood slowly but surely rising to my throat. "I'm heading somewhere else. Go to class, it's starting in fifteen minutes."

He wrinkled his nose. "What is that look on your face, that makes me think you turning that letter into confetti might be a better choice?"

~ * ~

"There's some serious thieving going on in this school," Mr. Clark, the fifty-something year old head-of-security of Valley Oak Academy grumbled, clicking through the CCTV clips.

"Young lady, you better keep a lock on your locker if you're going to keep anything expensive. We're not supposed to show this to students, but..."

"I'm so sorry for the trouble, Mr. Clark. I know it's really troublesome for you, but... the camera's not expensive- it's just really important to me. My grandmother- she lives really far from me- gave it to me for my birthday."

The anger that was shaking my voice was adding to the effect.

Mr. Clark's eyes softened as he took a gander at me, and then resumed clicking through the clips, scanning the screen. "Yeah some things simply don't have a price tag."

Standing beside me, Elliot raised his eyebrow, pointed to himself, and mouthed, 'I'm the hypocrite?'

Ignoring him, I returned my attention back to the CCTV screens.

Finally, Mr. Clark stopped. "Hey, that's your locker, right?"

Yesterday, 7.21pm. A girl with deep auburn hair, pulled into a low braid, just slightly shorter than the lockers on the third row.

She stood with her back to the CCTV, but the quick movement of her hand into my locker, was unmistakable. Not taking something out, but in.

Then, after closing the door, she deftly turned around, and facing the direction of the camera, headed down the corridor.

Reneé. My fingers dug into my curled up hands. So much for wishing for a quiet senior life.

"That girl," whistled Mr. Clark. "You want me to help file a report? For disciplinary action."

"It's okay, Mr. Clark. I know her," I said, clamping my hand over my mouth, sighing. "I'll talk to her. Thank you so much for your help."

"You should get a teacher involved, young lady- thieving is serious business!"

~ * ~

"So what's your plan?" Elliot asked, as we briskly walked to class.

"I'll wait for a delivery to my house."

"You mean a dead cat or a chopped up doll kind of a delivery?"

"You're wonderfully quick when it comes to these kind of things. Yeah."

"I'm always quick. And then? Put it into her locker?"

"Yeah, what else?"

"That's your strategy? An eye for an eye?"