For the remainder of the school day, Kim floated from class to class. She passed Jared once in the hallway on her way to English and then once again as he was exiting the Chemistry portable while she was on her way to the Music portable. Each time, their eyes locked and they smiled at one another.
Lara teased Kim on the bus all the way home. She declared that he better actually call her this time or else tomorrow she would squeeze him by the sack until she heard grapes pop.
"Oh my god," Kim giggled, leaning her head forward against the school bus seat ahead of her.
"What's that mean?" Paige asked the giggling girls.
"It means-" Lara started.
"Never mind!" Kim shot a warning glare at her best friend and the two girls laughed while Paige looked on, dumbfounded.
Kim said her goodbyes to Lara as she disembarked the bus with Paige. Unlike every Tuesday for the past few months, Mrs. Connweller's car was sitting in the driveway. Kim thought that was odd. Tuesdays were usually the same as Mondays; Kim would prepare dinner for herself and Paige —tonight's tacos — and Mrs. Connweller would get home some time after the girls were already in bed.
Kim ascended the concrete steps and unlocked the door with the key she kept on an old leather keychain of her favorite Pokemon, Squirtle.
"Mom?" Kim called into the house as Paige skipped into the living room and sat down in front of the TV for her evening cartoons. No answer; but she could hear footsteps shuffling upstairs.
Kim took off her coat and dragged her backpack upstairs, "Mom?" she called out once more.
When Kim turned the corner and opened the door to her bedroom she was horrified at the sight before her. Drawers were open, her clothing scattered everywhere. Her closet emptied onto the floor. The plastic storage totes from under her bed were all pulled out and turned over with everything dumped out. In short, her room had been ransacked, plundered, and pillaged. Mrs. Conweller briefly turned to look at her daughter before flipping over Kim's jewelry box and shaking out the contents.
"Mom! What are you doing?!" Kim shouted, her eyes wide and mouth agape.
Mrs. Connweller didn't answer her. Instead, she stepped forward and jerked Kim's black backpack off her shoulder and threw it on the bed, pulling the zippers apart.
"Mom! Stop!" Kim shouted, attempting to take back what was her's but Mrs. Connweller held out her arm, keeping Kim from intersecting her investigation.
"This!" Mrs. Connweller yelled and tossed the unopened Maybelline mascara out of the bag and onto her bed, "and this!" she shook her head holding up the unopened Revlon eyeshadow; the one Kim had stolen earlier that day.
"Mom! Come on!" Kim cried. She was humiliated but mostly confused as to why she was being shaken down for contraband.
"Where's the rest of it?" Mrs. Connweller started going through pockets on Kim's bags, madly.
"The rest of what?!" Kim squeezed her hands into enraged fists.
"The rest of what you stole, Kimberly," Mrs. Connweller's eyes were wide and angry. Kim had never seen her mother so furious in her entire life.
"Wh- what?" Kim swallowed. How? How did she know?
"Didn't think I'd find out, huh?" Mrs. Connweller laughed. It was a harsh laugh, a disappointed laugh. "Like an idiot, I went down to Paige's daycare this afternoon. I felt badly all morning for telling you that you couldn't join a school club. I figured that my Kimmy was a good girl, I'd see what I could do. Well, wasn't I the fool," Mrs. Connweller exhaled another severe laugh. "I had an hour to kill between patients. And as I am sitting in the daycare's admin office waiting to see just how much it would cost to keep Paige in daycare a little bit longer on Wednesdays and Fridays so you could go to your stupid club, I get a call from Rita McKay asking me to come down to the drugstore. She has security camera footage of my daughter committing theft in the makeup aisle."
Kim swallowed. Fuck.
"So instead of seeing my Tuesday evening patients, I had to cancel so I could come home and find the crap you stole and pay for it so that the McKay's don't call the police on my kid!" Mrs. Connweller shouted. She'd initially planned to wait for her daughter at the door and search her bag upon coming home but the longer she waited the more convinced she was that perhaps her daughter had other stolen property hidden away upstairs.
"M- m-m-m-... Mom, I'm sorry," Kim stuttered. She truly felt awful. She hadn't opened the makeup because she'd intended to return the eyeshadow tomorrow. It didn't feel right to keep it. She doubted that her mother would believe her, though.
"Save it, Kim. Where's the rest of it?" Mrs. Connweller shook her head and continued to dig through her daughter's bag.
"That's it! It's only the eye shadow. I swear! I have a receipt for the mascara," Kim pleaded.
Mrs. Connweller's hands froze. Her fingers reached into the front pocket of the backpack and she slowly pulled out the dimebag of Embry's pot that Kim and forgotten to pass off to Fran.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Mom, that's not mine. I swear!" Kim panicked as her mother discovered the forgotten pot. "Mom, please," Kim pleaded, "you have to believe me! Look, I only took the eyeshadow and I felt horrible about it. I was going to bring it back tomorrow. I swear. And the pot really isn't mine. A friend gave it to me to give to another friend. I forgot, alright," Kim didn't like the sound of her own voice right now. It was an octave higher than usual and it left her throat feeling thick and strained.
"What friend?" Mrs. Connweller challenged Kim.
Kim shook her head. She wasn't going to snitch on Embry.
"Yeah — I thought so," Mrs. Connweller said. She was in shock, looking down at the green plant matter concealed in the tiny plastic bag. She'd just come to terms with her daughter being a thief but she didn't want to believe her daughter was also a pothead.
The room fell silent… Then the phone rang.
Mrs. Connweller shook her head, "clean this up," she muttered, waving her arms at the havoc that she'd just unleashed on Kim's room.
Kim sighed. Great. This was going to take hours.
Mrs. Connweller gathered the mascara, eyeshadow, and Dimebag in her palm and then picked up the light pink phone on Kim's nightstand, "hello?"
"Um, hi. Good evening. May I speak to Kimberly, please?" Jared asked as politely as he could. He wanted to make a good impression so he had practiced what he'd say should someone other than Kim answer the phone. It paid off too. He thought he sounded like a respectable young man, worthy of speaking to Mrs. Connweller's daughter.
"Who's this?" Mrs. Connweller's eyes darted over to Kim where her daughter was frozen with terror.
"It's Jared Cameron, Ma'am," Jared replied, "is Kimberly available to speak?"
"No, Jared. Kimberly is not available to speak. In fact, Kimberly is grounded until further notice so there is really no point in you calling here again. Understood?"
"Uh- I uh- huh?" Jared stuttered.
"Goodbye," Mrs. Connweller slammed the phone down.
"Mom!" Kim shrieked, utterly mortified.
"Stealing makeup! Marijuana in your bag… And now boys are calling the house?! What is wrong with you, Kim?" Mrs. Connweller crossed her arms in disapproval.
"Nothing is wrong with me, Mom!" Kim said, uncontrollable anger bubbling up within her. Kim never lost her cool but she'd just had about enough. Her face boiled hot.
"No makeup, no boys calling the house, no archery club, no more leaving school property during lunch hour; don't you dare set foot in that drugstore ever again. Okay? You're grounded until further notice. You go to school and then you come home. You go to your room until dinner time, unless you're babysitting Paige. Do you understand me?" she stared hard at her daughter. Mrs. Connweller pulled the phone plug from the wall and wrapped the cord around the set, taking it with her as she walked towards Kim's bedroom door. "Actions have consequences, Kimmy."
"Oh! Don't I fucking know it!" Kim cursed.
"S'cuse me?" Mrs. Connweller turned around, her brows arched up high, unfamiliar with her daughter's rebellious tone.
"All I ever do is pay consequences for actions! For your actions!" Kim said, throwing piles of clothing back into her drawers without folding them.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Mrs. Connweller scoffed.
"I'm a prisoner because you screwed up your life!" Kim shouted. "You were a slut in high school so I can't date, because you got pregnant!" Kim accused her harshly. "I NOW can't do anything fun because you then decided to go ahead and have a midlife crisis baby! Nope! Can't be a normal kid! I have to stay home and play the built-in babysitter! All I ever do is pick up the slack around here! I don't get anything for myself! What about me!?"
"Hah! What about you!?" Mrs. Connweller yelled at her daughter for her disrespectful words, "asking you to show a little bit of responsibility around here is the least you can do. I work my ass off for you!" Mrs. Connweller spat, harshly, "I am barely going to have a moment of reprieve between Troy graduating and you beginning college. Not to mention driving your ass back and forth between here and Port Angeles for appointments — and paying — for those expensive fucking braces you begged me for!" Mrs. Connweller put her hand on her hip, "oh but, no, you're right! You don't get anything, poor little Kimmy," Kim's mother grumbled sarcastically and walked out into the hallway.
"Ugh!" Kim screamed out of frustration, "you're so unreasonable. I can't fucking wait for Dad to come home!"
"Yeah, well, don't hold your breath on that one," Mrs. Connweller muttered.
"What?" Kim felt as though her heart stopped. Blood drained from her face and suddenly the atmosphere was deafeningly silent. "Mom?"
Mrs. Connweller sighed. Fuck.
"Nevermind. Just clean this up," Mrs. Connweller's voice softened.
"No!" Kim dropped the pile of clothing from her grasp and ran to the door to face her mother, "what did that mean, Mom?"
Mrs. Connweller inhaled deeply, "fuck… look, Kim…" she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, "we were going to wait until your father came home before telling you…"
"Tell me what?" Kim's throat tightened. Her mouth was dry and her breath was shallow. "Mom?" Kim pleaded with Mrs. Connweller.
"... Okay… Kim… things aren't working out between your father and I anymore, alright," Mrs. Connweller explained, watching her daughter's eyes become glossy, "we've talked a lot about this and have decided that it'd be best if we went our separate ways."
"You're getting a divorce?" Kim whispered. Her entire world was crumbling before her and all she could do was watch. Everything she ever knew was slipping away.
"It's for the best," Mrs. Connweller replied.
"For who?" Kim couldn't believe her ears. "For me? For Paige?!" Kim cried, "who is this the best for?!"
Mrs. Connweller had no words for her daughter. She knew that there was nothing she could possibly do to explain this to her. It was too complicated; too adult for the teenager to fully grasp.
"Don't tell Paige, okay," Mrs. Connweller warned Kim, "she's too young to understand. And I already fucked up by telling you before Dad got home."
Tears dripped down Kim's splotchy face. Nothing made sense anymore; her world was unrecognizable. Kim had no more words. She was silent. Defeated.
"I have to go to the McKay's and pay for this," Mrs. Connweller said, holding up the eyeshadow, "is there anything else you took?" she asked, trying to maintain her strict voice. She had a pit in her stomach for losing her temper and blowing the news to Kim about her failed marriage before Mr. Connweller could return. They'd planned to have the conversation together. Mrs. Connweller had a difficult phone call ahead of her to her soon-to-be ex-husband.
"It was just that," Kim whispered.
"Okay… I'll be right back. I guess I'll pick up a frozen pizza on the way home," Mrs. Connweller rolled her eyes, by the time she got home it would be too late to start cooking dinner, "hah, steals makeup, smokes pot, has boys calling the house and gets rewarded with pizza," she muttered.
Kim's eyes snap up at Mrs. Connweller. Fuck you. "Forget it. Enjoy your stupid pizza. I'm not hungry," Kim retreated back into her bedroom and slammed the door.
Jared was faster on all fours. However, where Kim lived — a small brick house sandwiched between identical homes on a narrow road sharing a close treeline — it would be too risky.
Jared had run his finger through the phonebook, looking for Connweller. When Lara Jenkins had scolded him earlier that morning for not calling Kim the previous night, she'd mentioned that there was only one Connweller in the phone book.
When he retrieved the address, Jared got in his jeep and drove to the residence without a plan. If he couldn't talk to her, he wanted to at least be near her. When he arrived on the narrow street he parked across the way.
Amongst the row of houses — situated closely together — it was difficult for him to zero in on who was saying what from which house. Jared listened hard.
"…gets rewarded with pizza," Jared heard a faint voice from Kim's house
"Forget it. Enjoy your stupid pizza. I'm not hungry," Kim's voice was clear. Jared would recognise her angelic cadence anywhere.
He leaned forward, trying to hear more but the women ceased to speak so he sat there in silence, attempting to hear movement inside. He was pretty sure he'd worked out which bedroom must be Kim's by the direction in which he heard a bedroom door slam.
Moments later, Mrs. Connweller swung open the front door, stuffing objects into her purse. As she twisted the key in the lock Jared heard her mutter to herself, "teenagers are the worst human beings."
Jared smiled and chuckled softly. Sounds like Kim got into it with her mom. He observed as Mrs. Connweller got into her small beige sedan and backed out of the driveway.
Kim wandered to her window and leaned her forehead against the cool glass, watching as her mother's car disappeared around the corner.
Jared sat up straight when he saw her come to the window. Her face was puffy and red; her eyes swollen. He tilted his head to the side — a habit he was accustomed to in his wolf form — if he were phased, he'd likely express himself a sympathetic whine.
Poor, Kim. What a week she's having.
That was the third time he'd seen her in tears in two days. Jared gripped the steering wheel tightly to keep himself from swinging the jeep door open and going to her. He felt a little bit creepy. Here he was, again. Watching Kimberly Connweller from a distance, without her knowledge. This was definitely not a good look for him if he got caught.
Kim didn't notice Jared sitting outside of her house, in his jeep. Once the taillights of her mother's sedan had disappeared into the night, all she could see was her own reflection. Kim glowered at her face, her eyes looked especially small when she'd been crying. And the makeup she'd acquired only hours ago was long gone. She'd just have to get used to not having her mascara to secretly apply in the girls lavatory at school.
Kim turned around, looking at her chaotic bedroom. It was ground zero of hurricane Mrs. Connweller. Kim couldn't bring herself to care about the mess. She was devastated. She had lots of reasons to be shattered tonight. She'd crossed a line she never imagined she'd cross; theft. To make matters worse, her mother found out. Not to mention the marijuana — that honestly didn't even belong to her — discovered during the intrusive inspection of her backpack.
Kim was ashamed. She'd accused her mother of being a slut in high school and then called her selfish for conceiving Paige. She'd made out like her life was so horrible. It wasn't. Kim didn't hate her life. She just wished she had more of it. More of her own life. Time to be a stupid self-centered teenager. Less responsibilities. More… joy?
And then… Jared. Not being allowed to talk to him. That hurt too but she probably deserved it.
The most tragic of all was how Kim learned that her father wasn't coming home.
Kim's worst nightmare was getting that call. The call that every child of a military parent dreads. That something unthinkable has happened. Something horrific, like an IED. That her father would be delivered home to her in a box — or not at all if his end was particularly gruesome and there wasn't enough of him left to send back. She never imagined, not in a million years, that her father would choose to not come home to her.
Kim pushed the clutter off of her bed and onto the pile of crap that littered her bedroom floor.
"Kimmy!?" Paige called from downstairs, "Kimmy, can I have a snack?"
"Anything you want!" Kim yelled back, doing her best to make her heartbroken voice sound upbeat.
Kim took her iPod from the nightstand and crammed in the tiny white earbuds. Hitting shuffle, she sobbed as she laid down, reaching for the Black Tea Rose candle on her nightstand. She'd burned through the wicks months ago. All that remained was some wax in the glass vessel that still held remnants of it's comforting musk. Kim closed her eyes and fell asleep to the poignant melody of Broken by Lifehouse.
Unable to do anything for Kim, Jared pulled out onto the small street and drove back home. Faint sobs faded in the distance and he wondered what troubled her so.