Through the Floorboards

5

Spending the next week or so avoiding 102 and making sure Lilliane didn't invite him over for whatever she thought they could be was the least of my worries from the week that had left us.

I could barely close my eyes at night without thinking about the night of Travis being in the apartment touching me while Lilliane was in the other room. I curse myself now because I should have never let it get that far. I also think that I need to find a new hobby to distract me from his ways.

On the other hand, the article is coming along well. I mean, the trial has been super slow; they had previously been in the midst of getting a jury, and since it was Wednesday the week after everything had happened, I was confused as to why it was taking so long.

However, today was a very important day for me and my article. The trial had been set for this morning, and hopefully it would only take today to come up with a verdict, but anything can happen in the eyes of the law.

—————

As I was wrapping up some of the loose ends in my article, my boss strolled in earlier than usual and very much in unfashionable clothing. I actually had to do a double take because I couldn't imagine him not being stylish.

"A tracksuit? To work? Where is my boss, and what have you got down with him?" I asked as he rolled his eyes as he zoomed past my desk without another comment.

About 5 minutes later, as I was collecting myself to head to the court, my boss came strolling past, still in his tracksuit. He looked over at what I was wearing and rolled his eyes.

"You never saw me! I am not even meant to be in today, but I left something here and thought nobody would be here at 8 a.m., let alone just coming up to 8:30 a.m., seeing as Wednesday is at home day," he explained as I chuckled. I mean, this man still looked nice in his grey Nike tracksuit.

"It's giving Roadman-esc, but scouts honour, I won't tell anyone that you wear regular clothes," I said as I stuck three fingers in the air and lightly whistled the Hunger Games tune.

He looked at me, confused and also shocked at the same time. "You were in scouts?" He asked as I looked at my fingers and then paused my whistling, looking at his dead pan.

"No, that was the hunger games... You know what? Ignore me. I need to get to the courthouse anyway, but I will update you later," I said as I collected my stuff in my hands and made my way to the lifts, leaving my boss watching me with confusion on his face.

Maybe it was a younger generation thing, but as a 25-year-old, I am confused as to why you wouldn't know that. You don't mind watching The Game of Thrones, but The Hunger Games is too boring. It's basically telling me that you have a hidden perv in you.

The courtroom this time around for the trial was packed. I mean, from front to back, there were people already piling into the courtroom wanting to get the best seat possible. As everyone entered, so did the jury, and there was a fair variety of them, young like my age and old like my mom's age.

"Sorry, can I squeeze past?" I said a little louder, then whispered to the man sitting in one of the rows that were a little less crowded.

For this type of case, I really didn't want to stand or sit with any other journalist because they wanted to ask you what paper or station you were from or what your opinion was. I wasn't there for that. No nonsense.

The man who was quite a tall sitter for someone who was sitting in the middle of the courtroom—I mean, I wouldn't want to sit behind him at all. He looked over at me quickly and muttered a quiet agreement, and I didn't think much about it.