The Day an Idiot Robbed Wal-Mart

-Chapter 12-

-CHAPTER 12-

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" I whispered, leaning towards Cameron. I felt like the cameras sitting in front of us could see into my soul.

Yes, cameras. That was what I was freaking out about. After we'd accepted Mr. Teal's offer, somewhat hesitantly, I might add, he'd jumped on board with full commitment. Within a day, he'd secured us an interview on the local morning show, and the date for it was so soon that I'd suspected he'd lined it up before we had even agreed to his little plan.

"Just remember," Cameron whispered back. "Look devastated and crushed." It was sort of a joke, but also our legitimate instructions. Mr. Teal had figured it would be in our best interest to milk the most out of this situation, hence the immediate interview date and quick release from the hospital. He wanted us to look the most worn out and beat up we could for the cameras.

Fidgeting, I wrapped the fabric of my skirt around my fingers a couple times, then unwound. Rewind, unwind, repeat.

"Cameron, I'm in a dress," I remarked randomly, still playing with the fabric.

"Mhm," he replied, seeming half out of the conversation. "And it looks very nice."

I bounced up and down in the seat a little. "That's not the point. The point is that I'm in a dress, when I should be in a sweater and sweatpants, covering up all these gross bruises. I should also be curled up on my couch with a book or movie, but instead, I'm here." They put me in a dress because it would show the bruises on my arms and legs the best, I knew that. I suppose I could have had a say in what I was wearing, but Mr. Teal made me feel like everything had to be manufactured a specific way to play out the right way.

"Shh," he hushed me, as the lady who would be interviewing us walked up.

I didn't say any more, but my mind was still buzzing. It wasn't fair. Cameron got to wear dress pants and a long sleeve shirt, and I was in a dress? I glanced his way. Okay, so he did have a bandage taped to his head. I guess that was punishment enough.

 "Ms. Knite, Mr. Ferris." The lady nodded her head to us. "We go on in forty five seconds."

It sounded like a short time, but forty five seconds was actually an eternity before the cameras started rolling. It was incredible the amount of stuff they got down before the countdown was over, and that included makeup for both Cameron and I, and a quick rundown of questions to expect. At the last moment, our interviewer rushed in and plopped on the couch, not even introducing herself to us. She appeared frazzled but quickly relaxed, putting on her stage face.

Pretty soon we saw a hand go up, flashing three fingers, then two, then just one, and a red light lit up.

"Welcome back to channel two," the interviewer piped up, suddenly cheerful. "We've had a couple new guests join us during the break, and you may remember hearing their story after the wild storm on Wednesday." She turned to us, flashing a bright smile. "Is it all right if I call you by your first names? Last names are just so formal."

"Absolutely!" Cameron replied, smiling right back. I managed to nod and force my lips to turn up the slightest bit. I didn't want to be here, and I knew Cameron didn't either, but he was better at masking it.

The interviewer, whose name was Aileen, I believe, leaned forward and gazed as us, rather intensely. "So let's get down to what everybody wants to know about; your traumatizing night in Wal-Mart. We want to know how it all started. Now, we're aware you were strangers prior to this situation, how did you two first meet?"

She was staring directly at me, so I answered, "Oh, well when the sirens started blaring I sort of . . . freaked out, and Cameron found me and pretty much brought me back to my senses."

When I finally broke eye contact with Aileen, I glanced beside me to see Cameron offering a smile in my direction. She continued with her questions, but it all seemed a little hazy to me. I was pretty sure my answers made sense, and I let Cameron handle the trickier ones concerning the details we weren't really allowed to discuss. The case was still being handled by the authorities, and there were specific restrictions on what we could tell people about it all. Cameron had a pretty good grasp on how to take questions down rabbit trails to avoid the actual point.

When Aileen announced the break, Cameron visibly slumped back into the chair, his posture deflating. He really knew how to fake it for the camera. Aileen stood to grab a snack, not speaking a word to us, so I leaned towards Cameron.

"This is a bit odd, huh?" I asked, glancing around the room.

He nodded, following my gaze around. "I hope we don't have to do much more of this. I don't really like exploiting our situation for gain, it just feels wrong."

I frowned. "You know what I just thought of?" He met my gaze. "If our faces are on TV, the robbers are going to know our names, and since they haven't been caught . . ." I trailed off.

"Hey, Lace," he said, placing his hand gently over mine, which was resting on my knee. "I don't think they'll continue to be a problem for us. With the police on their trail, there's no way they're still sticking around. They probably got what they came for and split."

"I hope you're right." He squeezed my hand tightly, then released it as Aileen returned. I was just thankful to have some company here. If I had to be doing this, at least I wasn't alone.