Stealing from the Bad Boy [completed]

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

In just a few seconds, two concerned adults came rushing to the door and opened it to see Rosie crying. "There's been an emergency. I need your help."

"What's wrong my dear?" The woman asks.

"My dog has run away," Rosie begins to ruffle through her bag to pull out a pre-made flyer with a picture of a dog.

Rosie's job is quite simple, she gets way too hysterical and give way too much detail about her missing dog that isn't really missing. Meanwhile I'm stealing a stick.

The width of the tree was wider than I thought, I had to jump up a few times until I could reach a lower branch. I tried not to seem too excited about reaching it otherwise Mr and Mrs Tanner would spot me and call the police, or worse... Cameron.

It spent two minutes balancing on a branch and moving up to the next, by the time I reach the roof I can faintly hear Rosie sobbing "Why me? Why Misty, she is such a good dog?"

I stood on top of the veranda and moved as slowly as possible trying not to make noise. There were two dormers, one open and one shut. An old friend of mine used to have a dormer and if she had a sleepover we would all get scared thinking someone could open it, she assured us however that they can't be opened from the outside.

The dormer closest to me was shut meaning I would have to carefully walk across the ledge to the other.

The shutter that kept the window open was the only thing blocking me from getting in. The shutter on the window took up about twenty centimetres of a thirty centimetre ledge. I would have to carefully squeeze around the shutter to get to the other side.

These shutters have locks that keep them open, so the wind doesn't constantly make them flap open and shut, but it also meant I couldn't close it to get around. What a cruel world.

I take off my beanie as if it would miraculously help my stability problem. I place it down just beside me on the ledge and pray it doesn't fall off. Rosie is still down there describing the dog and getting Cameron's parents to call other neighbours. All of those drama and acting lessons did her good.

I hold onto the edge on one shutter and take my left foot to put it around the other side. Facing in, I slowly start to swing my weight around to my other foot and shuffle around the panel. Once most of me is in front of the window I carefully lift up my leg and bring it back to me.

The window was open just a tiny bit, I could get my fingers between the crack and started lifting it up. After both climbing the tree and skilfully shuffling over the ledge, falling into Cameron Tanner's room will definitely be the most terrifying.

Especially when you're looking right at him.

He is sitting on a swivelling chair moving side to side while facing the window. He has the biggest smirk on his face.

I'm set back and begin to lose grip on the window, I slip back and my feet begin to move backwards from him. I can feel my foot slipping off the end tile and my body loses grip. My arms begin flapping around trying to grab hold of something as my legs fall back and Cameron grabs me by the arms.

My feet are dangling off the edge of the roof, I can only pray that Rosie is distracting them well enough.

My stomach begins to burn as the grazes from the tiles dig deeper. Cameron slowly pulls me back in through the window. Him pulling me up is making the pain worse, but I rather this than falling off the roof.

I make it to the sill and grab on for myself, pulling myself up. He lends out a hand and helps me from the sill to the floor.

"Take a seat. I'll be right back," he says pointing to his bed. Before I could say anything he had left the room. I walk over to the bed with my hands over my stomach.

'Why the fuck is he here? He was supposed to be at the beach all day.' I think to myself.

I can hear people talking downstairs and faintly hear Rosie still moaning about her dog. She still thinks the plan is going on smoothly, she thinks I'm getting the drumstick. The plan was that once I had the stick I would text her and she would back off the house, then I would climb down the tree and meet her back by the car.

I had to get the stick, but not while Cameron was here.

I stand up from the bed and begin to examine his four walls. Covered in posters and shelves full of CD's and books. Movies from all different genres and eras. I was jealous. My room was larger than his but this felt like a real bedroom. A bit chaotic and a bit messy. He had a David Bowie poster on the back of his door with a beautiful mural of Aretha Franklin. It looks like Cameron painted her himself.

Framed photos of Cameron with a smaller version of himself on top of his shoulders hung on the same wall as a desk and lamp.

He looks so happy in the photos it makes me smile. One at a park and one at the beach on the sand.

I hear the creek of the door behind me and jump back onto the bed.

"Hi," a little boy says as he pushes the door open. "I'm Caleb." He casually walks into the room.

I can tell he is Cam's little brother they look the exact same only one is half the others height.

"I'm Natalie."

"I know, you're that girl Cameron talks about." My cheeks blush up.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. All the time."

"What about?" Now I'm just curious.

"That you're pretty and smart."

I can see Cameron walk up the stairs and make his way into the room.

"I'll see you Caleb."

"Bye," he leaves the room and passes his brother on the way out.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing."

"I got you this," he closes the door behind him and begins wrapping an ice pack in a thin towel. "Put it on your stomach." He hands it to me and I reluctantly take it.

"Thanks."

"You okay?" He looks at my grazed legs and arms.

"Yeah I'm fine." I stand up and begin walking back toward the window I came in from.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. Aren't you going to kick me out? Call the police?"

"What? No. Just sit down you're hurt."

"I'm fine." I start to lift up the window again and put one leg out. The right side of my torso begins to burn and I retracted my leg. I wince and back away from the window, I pass Cameron and walk toward his door.

"Wait," he closes the door I just opened. "You can't leave. My parents will see you."

"How else are you going to kick me out?"

"Just wait until my parents go out. They're going to some Saturday dinner with friends and they'll leave soon," he pauses. "Then I'll kick you out."

"Great," I put on a sarcastic smile.