Chapter 22
All too quickly fall break came and went. One minute I was over at Dreux’s snuggled up watching The Lost Boys, and the next I was waking up early to return to school.
Before my mother left town, Scott had taken her out to dinner which he got in late from. Every day since I’d overheard them speaking on the phone. I was hopeful things would work out this time around. They both were older, smarter, and most noticeably happier.
I felt the same in my life. Things with Angela at the shop were brighter and more relaxed. She rolled her eyes in a motherly way every time Dreux came to take his break with me. She’d even gone as far as inviting me and Scott over for dinner one night.
Everything was steady and stable. I was at peace.
Except I was still annoyed we were back to school so soon.
Vanity was scrolling through my phone as we sat in homeroom, or first period study hall.
She was going through the playlist Dreux had made for me.
Every other song left her bobbing her head in approval.
“Okay. Come through, Dreux.” She handed me my phone back and sized me up.
“Guess this explains why you were scarce most of break. You must’ve been under him. ”
My jaw dropped. I had not spent the entire fall break hooking up with Dreux. Maybe two times tops.
I narrowed my eyes at Vanity. “Don’t act all innocent. Zion’s braids have been looking fresh and perfect, and he’s not going to the shop.”
Beyond the fact that Zion was Dreux’s best friend, we’d all gone to the movies last weekend where Vanity was practically glued to him.
“Bitch!” Vanity pretended to hiss at me as she tossed a sparkly pen my way.
I recalled her extra bubbly front these days as I gave it back to her. “I take it all flags are green for Zion?”
“Oh, god yes,” Vanity was quick to say. “He actually listens. I told him I hate when people answer with ‘sure’ because it just sounds like I’m burdening you, if that makes sense.”
“No, I totally get it. Almost makes you not want to ask for anything.”
“Right!” Vanity agreed. “But after telling him that, Z makes sure he never says it. I told him I don’t like beans in my tacos or nachos, and he got me a nacho salad without them from Taco King. These are small, but Ebram never cared.”
“Fuck him,” I said, glad she was rid of him.
The class our study hall was held in was on the first floor. A glance out the window behind Vanity saw the front of the school. When I looked over, I spotted a police van parked beside the faculty parking lot. The large black and white vehicle with MGPD emblazoned on the side couldn’t be missed.
“What’s with the cops?” I asked.
Vanity turned and peeked out the window. She shrugged as she was back in her own phone. “Probably the K9 unit. They do a drug and weapons sweep, like, once a year.”
“Whoa.” At my school in LA, they’d done that once my freshman year until the PTA got together and argued against it, citing it was an invasion of privacy to go through the students’ personal lockers. With the right amount of influence and money, the sweeps were abolished my sophomore year.
“Yeah, they hardly ever find anything. I mean, this is Meadow Grove—”
The sound of barking interrupted whatever Vanity had been about to say. What was clearly more than one dog was out in the hall barking up a storm.
“Shit, spoke too soon,” Vanity lit up as she eyed the classroom door.
“We got action!” some student exclaimed.
“Wonder who it is?” another said as everyone zeroed in on the door.
In the next moment there was a knock at the door with a figure appearing in the tiny window.
Eyes enlarged and mouths dropped open. Whatever was going outside was linked to someone in this room.
Mrs. Williams abandoned her tablet and went and answered the door. A cop stood in the entryway. I recognized him as Dreux’s cousin. Officer Rick St. Julien.
He said something to Mrs. Williams and she paused. She walked back over to her desk and grabbed a sheet of paper from the corner, all of us watching and waiting on bated breath.
Mrs. Williams looked up from her paper, her gaze searching the room until it landed on me. “Saylor, can you step outside please?”
The room fell silent and all eyes were on me.
A lump formed in my throat and I felt a roll of sweat trail down my back.
Nervous, I stood up and swallowed. Rick was waiting for me at the door.
Out in the hall a German Shepherd was sniffing at a blue locker. Two others were sitting and watching behind it.
As I followed Rick to the commotion, dread settled in my stomach. It was my locker.
“This locker belong to you?” Rick asked as he hung back, eyeing me down with an empty look. His hands gripped his utility belt and he seemed so much bigger now considering the situation.
Quietly, I nodded, eyes locked on the Shepherd as it pawed at my locker door and whimpered.
“Open it,” he commanded.
I faced my locker as tension set in. My hands shook as I reached out to grab the lock and put in my combo. Twenty-four, ten, twenty-eight. Right, left, right.
I undid the lock and pulled the door open.
All at once everything stopped.
I expected to see a few books and a hoodie I’d left behind before break. Instead, sitting on top of my calc textbook was a large bag of what looked and smelled like weed. Worse, inside the bag were individual baggies of it.
What. The. Fuck.
Immediately I whirled around, facing Rick and shaking my head. “It’s not mine.”
Rick sighed, lolling his head back and peering at the ceiling with a single shake of disgust. “Please turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
The other officers turned and faced me, prepared to force me if I didn’t comply.
For the third time in my life, I was being arrested. And the worst part was, I was actually innocent.
Thirty minutes later, I was alone and cuffed in the senior office, waiting for Scott to show up. The entire sweep had gone off without a problem, save for me.
I’d heard an officer say the bag in my locker came out to just over three pounds.
Of all the shit I’d done, this was going down as the worst of it. Possession with the intent to sell was a whole fucking felony. I was seventeen, old enough to be charged as an adult.
I couldn’t hide that I was scared. I was shaking and close to tears. How would I get out of this? How would I explain I had no idea where the weed came from? How would I convince anyone to believe me?
The door to the senior office burst open and Dreux and Bonham rushed in.
“Geez, pirate, you’ve been holding out,” Bonham said as they approached me.
Dreux glared at him. “Not funny.” He turned and assessed me, his eyes searching mine for something. When he noticed the cuffs and my position sitting with my arms behind my back in the hard plastic chair, his jaw tightened. “Shit.”
I couldn’t look at him, so I hung my head in shame. “They’re not mine.”
“I believe you.” Dreux kneeled down in front of me, meeting my line of vision. “Hey, I’m here.”
“We both are.” Bonham came and stood beside Dreux, folding his arms and standing tall. “Pick your head up. We’ll figure this out.”
Tears came to my eyes and threatened to spill. From where I was sitting, I was pretty fucked.
The principal’s door opened and Rick stepped out with Mr. Hughes. One look at his cousin and he was shaking his head.
“Get to class, Dreux,” Rick ordered. “You can’t be here.”
“I’m not leaving her.” Dreux held his ground. His hand rested on my knee as a show of support.
“It’s not up to you, Mr. St. Julien,” Mr. Hughes stepped in.
“Saylor, we’re taking you to the station,” Rick said as he came closer. “We’re placing you under arrest.”
My lips trembled as I hiccupped on a sob. “But…Scott…?”
Rick grimaced at the sight of me nearing a breakdown. “He’ll meet us at the station.”
“Rick—”
“Dreux, there is nothing you can do for her,” Rick snapped as his head whipped in Dreux’s direction.
Bonham stood glowering between Rick and Mr. Hughes. “How do you even know if it’s hers?”
Rick rolled his eyes. Having had enough, he came and helped me stand. He pressed his hand to the small of my back and ushered me toward the door to leave.
My legs were unsteady and I couldn’t see through my blurry vision. “Please.”
Another officer beat us to the door and opened it as Rick led me out into the hall. Students were going to and from class, but they stopped to see the show. Lining up on either side of the hall, it was my very own walk of shame as we parted down the middle.
I couldn’t remember the last time I cried, but as Rick recited my Miranda rights and I was blinded by the flashing of cameras, I sobbed like a baby.