Just a Bottle of Fairy Dust

3. Heart Skips a Beat

A/N: Not a romance story. Just an essay I did which my teacher awarded me 26/30, yay! :)

My hand lingered on the polished door knob, and my fingers flexed, unsure whether or not to twist the object.

"Go on." Anthony urged, his voice tinted with excitement.

Sensing my hesitation, he rolled his eyes and unlocked the mechanism, pushing the door wide open.

"Behold." He gave a dramatic bow before gesturing at the storage room. "My stash of loots."

My breath caught in my throat. As I entered the room, my heart skipped a beat. Mahagony shelves lined the room, and random, mismatched furniture like a coffee table, two lawn chairs and a glass cabinet too. However, what made the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end were the items placed on the furniture. Some were intricately designed, while others made no sense at all.

I watched as Anthony swiftly grabbed a scarf off a lawn chair.

"Dolce and Gabbana." He smirked. He put the navy fabric down and took a few more steps until he reached the coffee table. Pulling out a drawer, he revealed a black, classy wallet.

"Armani."

My jaw dropped as he continued to show me more ridiculously expensive items he had no use for. A Cartel engagement ring, Nike air pumps, an antique vinyl record, a soccer ball...

"How long has this been going on?" I demanded, although my voice came out weaker than I had hoped.

"A year of so." Anthony commented nonchalantly as he placed a glossy, winter-themed snow globe back into the glass cabinet. He looked me in the eye, and asked, 'You won't tell anyone, right?"

I nodded, my mind whirling with an endless stream fo thoughts.

Anthony was my eighteen-year-old neighbour, who was also the son of a family friend, which meant we basically grew up together. Our parents would call us "Ant and Grant", the tag team who always found a way to land into a heap of trouble. Even though Anthony was two years older than me, we had no trouble getting alone. We were both the only children in our families, so we shared everything together: toys, arguments and secrets.

As I grew older, I learnt that Anthony did not have the same bubble of joy my family provided me. I realised why he never accompanised me when I was decorating my Mothers' Day card. Anthony lived with his father, who was a wealthy businessman. Buying Anthony all the trinkets he wanted to fill up the aching gap his wife had left behind was his way of letting his son know he shared his sense of loss. However, it probably never occured to Anthony's father than one person living in a huge house had left Anthony feeling more alone than anything else.

About two years ago, Anthony informed me that his father had started seeing a woman who worked in his department. I detected a note of bitterness, and figured out that his mother was not his favourite person in the world, but he definitely did not want anyone to fill her place. He started getting moodier, refusing to spend time with me or even his other friends. He became snarky, and was often sauntering off by himself.

That was until a few months ago, when I ran into him at the grocery store. I was surprised to see him there, since their housekeeper Kate did the shopping. Anthony started to tell me about his father, and how he learnt to cope with his abandonment issues by picking up new skills. Before I could comment, we walked past a crate of apples, and I grumbled at the high price now that the sale was over.

Anthony merely cocked an eyebrow. "You want them?"

"Well, I did."

Before I could stop him, he nicked two ripe apples, stuffed them into his jacket and promptly walked off towards the 'Exit' sign. I jogged after him, abandoning my basket of goods. When I caught up to him, Anthony had already taken a bite out of his apple. He tossed me the other fruit, and I barely grabbed it, still stunned at what I had just witnessed.

"Thrilling, isn't it?" He grinned, gleaming with glee. "I love the adrenaline rush."

"Is this what you meant by coping with your dad?" I frowned, looking back to see if anyone was chasing after us.

"Yes. It makes me feel alive." He took another bite out of his apple, crunching loudly.

"Hang on, are you saying you've been engaging in petty theft?"

Anthony held up a finger, silencing me. "It's not petty if you know how to steal from the big league."

I crossed my arms, my eyebrows knitted firmly together. "But why? You can easily afford anything, why then need to steal?"

He shrugged, as if the crime he just committed was nothing. "I told you. I like the thrill." He paused, then turned to give me a grave look. "Grant, you know what I just told you is a secret, right? No one can know."

I agreed then, not knowing what else to do. Anthony started hanging out with me, sensing that I was on his side. Most of the time, after a "good time" with Anthony, I would stay awake until the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning.

I kicked the pebbles on the pavement, the anxiety rising in my throat. Anthony wanted me to go over to his house, but I never imagined it would be to show me his room of secrets. I never imagined he would steal enough to fill an entire room. I never imagined his stealing sprees had been going on for such a long period of time.

"I'm home."

My mother floated out of the kitchen, smelling like Mexican food. The moment her eyes landed on me, her face fell. "What's wrong, Grant?"

The rock on my shoulders felt like it was suffocating me, and I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. "Mom, would you still help a friend if you knew it would get them in trouble?"

She looked confused, but her answer was firm. "Yes. That's what friends do."

I ran up the stairs to my room and lunged at my phone, locking the door and ignoring my mother's shouts. My hands were trembling but I dialled the number of the police station before I could back out. The words flowed out of my mouth as I spilled Anthony's address and secrets. My eyes were glued to the front door of his house as I watched the scene unfold from my eyes.

A police car pulled up, and a cop rang the doorbell while the other stood idly on the porch. Kate answered, and Anthony appeared from behind her, checkign who their guests were. His eyes grew wide with alarm, and an officer stepped forward to handcuff him. Kate's face was filled with distraught while the other officer explained to her why they were arresting Anthony. Before he got into the car, he gave a longing stare at my window. It sent chills down my spine despite knowing I had tinted windows.

Guilt gnawed at my heart. I could not be sure what I was feeling more guilty about: the fact that I had kept our first promise, or that I had broken the second one.

A/N: Short, I know, I'm sorry. My finals are in less than twenty days and I am freaking the freak out. :( Be back soon and I have plenty of ideas and new characters for most of my stories (but I will probably leave The Runaway alone since it's still really really foreign to me). I actually aim to try to finish either Look Out Batman, Here Comes Supergirl or Mafia Girl (why do all my titles have Girl in them huh) before 2014. So.... wish me luck!

If you want to see an active side of me: www.poynterbitch.tumblr.com :)

Cheers, lovelies!