Chapter 4

20 0 0
                                    

-: Chapter 4:-

I made our tea and went downstairs to find Jaspar sitting on my couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he ate the remainder of my popcorn while watching the movie I had previously been watching.

He let out a laugh at something that happened on screen. “Oh, God, I love this movie.” He then rose his gaze to see me. “Oh, there you are. I’ve been wondering where you went.”

I didn’t say a word, too much in shock I guess, as I handed him his cup of tea and took a seat beside him on the couch.

“Ah, thank you.” He smiled, taking a small sip.

I couldn’t stop staring at him. What happened to the Jaspar I knew – or thought I knew? The one who was so closed off? He must’ve noticed me staring because he paused the movie and turned towards me with an exasperated sigh.

“I guess I owe you an explanation.” He took another sip of his tea before setting it on the coffee table. “Ask away!”

I blinked. “Oh…right.” I ran my fingers through my hair once as I tried to come up with something to say. I had so many questions swimming in my head but they got jumbled up together until my mind drew a blank. I spotted the glue and the scissors on the table.

“How did you do it?” this obviously wasn’t the first thing I wanted to know. I mean, I wanted to know why on earth he had a bag full of money or why he decided to pay me a visit, but I guess this question will do…for now.

“Do what?” he rose an eyebrow. His arm was lazily draped on the back of the couch, a little too close to my shoulders. I tried to ignore that, though, and focused instead on finding out as much as I could about this strange boy.

“Clean everything up, get those art materials, all that, before the cops came down.”

“Well, the art shit, I found easily in my backpack. My little brother must’ve put them there. I’m glad he did too. Much easier to stall when you have random junk in your bag.” He patted a black backpack next to him that I hadn’t even noticed was there. There was so much black on him that everything sort of blended together. “As for cleaning, I literally just shoved everything into my bag. I found a broom in the closet I was to hide in and swept everything up. That’s all there is to it.”

“So there’s bits of glass in your bag?” he nodded his head slowly, refusing to look up from his bloody hands. “There’s literally a trash bin right there.” I pointed behind me to a small red bin.

Jaspar let out a sound that was between a sigh and a laugh. “I panicked okay?”

“Want me to empty out the glass for you?” I offered.

He smiled at me. “Nah, I got it. Nothing I can’t handle.” He paused, thinking about something while keeping his eyes locked on me. I was about to ask him something else when he snapped out of his daze and looked away from me and back to his hands. “Got any more questions?”

“Mhm” I hummed. “The officers said you robbed a bank. Is that true?”

He replied without hesitation. “Yup. I did rob that bank.”

Was it strange that I wasn’t even surprised? All the pieces clicked together perfectly. I’d be worried if he said no. “Why?”

“Sorry, can’t answer that.” He looked around the room, at the paintings that hung on the peach walls. Mom’s paintings. “By the way, where’s my duffel bag?”

“I’ll only give you your bag of stolen money,” I put as much emphasis on the words ‘stolen money’ as I could. “Once you tell me why on earth you robbed a bank.”

RobbersWhere stories live. Discover now