Page 30 of Even After Sunset

My eyes automatically jump back to the cashier, but she’s busy putting the roll of tickets back in a drawer just underneath the counter. She didn’t see him.

ButI did.And I feel sick to my stomach.

A quick peek over my shoulder reveals that Silas is sauntering down one of the aisles toward us. I turn back to the cashier and quickly say: “Um, actually, can you add two chocolate bars to that? I’ll just go grab them after I pay.”

There are a few people in line behind me, so I know she won’t notice when I don’t go back and take the chocolate bars.

She smiles. “Sure thing.” She rings in my total and I hand her the cash.

“Enjoy the carousel!” she says, handing me my change. I hope she doesn’t notice how sweaty my palm is. It feels like everyone in the store knows what just happened - what Silas did and what I just did to cover for him. I’ve neverbeen with anyone who’s shop-lifted before and I hate it. I feel dirty; like now I’m somehow part of it by covering for him.

Breaking any kind of rule makes me uneasy, and this goes way beyond rule breaking. This pulls me so far out of my comfort zone that I actually physically feel the stress tugging behind my temples.

I thank the woman and stride straight over to where Silas is pretending to check out a shelf of dancing robots.

“Let’s go.” I say, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt.

Silas looks down at where my hand is pulling at the fabric, then up at me, confusion etched in the lines of his face. Like he truly can’t fathom why I would want to get out of this store as fast as humanly possible.

“Uh. Okay.”

I’m so mad I want to shove him out of the store. I bought him food earlier, and he tried to reject it. Several times. I didn’t even make a big deal about it. But he still acted like I was being unreasonable—and then he goes andstealsfood?

“You’re such a jerk.” I bite the words through clenched teeth, then turn and storm off toward the large arrow above the back door that says “Carousel: This Way”. I hear Silas just behind me, his long strides easily keeping up with my fast pace. He yanks me around once we get outside in a large covered area.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“You!” I throw my hands up. “You’remy problem!”

He still manages to look confused, and it makes me even angrier. “I saw what you did in there,” I spit out. “And I covered for you. I just paid for the two chocolate bars you stole.”

He backs away, and for a second he does look embarrassed. But then it quickly gets shrouded in defiance. Of course. Classic Silas Carmichael, I’m quickly learning.

“Oh, so here we go again,” he snaps. “Acting all high and mighty. Like you’re the hero swooping in to save me from my horrible—”

“This is not me saving you! This is me pointing out that you just committed acrime, Silas.”

“Oh, for the love of…” He rolls his eyes. “Acrime?I just took a couple of seventy-nine cent chocolate bars!”

“You stole. That’s a crime.”

“Ok. Well, thanks for the heads up.” His voice hardens. “But I don’t need you pointing out everything I do wrong, or trying to steer me on the right path all the time like you’re… like some kind of missionary or something.” He takes a step back. “So just stop it, okay? Stop trying to fix me, like it’s your right, or your duty or whatever - just because you know shit about my past.”

“That isnotwhat I’m doing.”

“Yes! It is!” He insists. “And I know you think you’re trying to help me, but I don’t want that. I neveraskedyou to do that.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I haven’t asked you for anything, alright?”

“Oh, I know.” I scoff. “I’m plenty aware of that.”

He rolls his eyes but I continue: “I mean, God forbid you let someone try to help you, Silas — that you let a friend make you a grilled cheese sandwich! Or buy you a muffin and a cup of coffee! Godforbidyou let someone give a crap about you!”

There’s a loaded silence after that, where Silas just stares back at me: slightly confused, still fuming. I inhale a calming breath and lower my voice because I’m conscious that a few people are starting to stare.

“Sorry.” I mutter. “It’s just… I just don’t understand why you keep doing stuff like this. You’re going to get caught, and then they’ll actually have areasonto send you back to Trenton. Or worse. And I don’t want—”

“Jesus!” He practically screams. “You’re still doing it!”

“So what if I am?” I throw back. “If you think that trying to keep you from getting arrested again, and thrown injail,means I’m trying to ‘fix’ you, then fine. Yeah. Guilty.”

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