The Perfect Us ||A Sodapop Curtis x Reader Story||

What Can I Do?

Y/n's POV:

After Steve and Soda left, the police took my dress into custody to make sure nothing was on it that shouldn't be. The date for my trial is slowly creeping up and I'm getting more antsy by the second.

I laid down in the bed, if you could call it that, and closed my eyes. 

"I sentence you to life in prison!" The judge banged.

"HAHA! THAT'S WHAT YOU DESERVE BITCH!" The socs yelled and laughed.

"Cookie, I got back with Sandy. At least she isn't a murderer like you!" Soda said.

"Steve?! Steve where are you?!" I screamed.

"Cookie, Steve's dead. He couldn't handle the fact that you murdered someone," Johnny said.

"No! Please! This isn't right! Please!" I screamed, collapsing on the ground.

I woke up, panting. That dream wasn't real, it isn't going to be real. I said to myself over and over.

Today was the last day Jacob was coming. Then, the trial.

"Hey Miss Randle, how are you today?" Jacob asked walking into the cell.

"Hey Jacob, not great. Just scared about the trial is all," I say, looking out my "window".

"Well, I'm sure everything will go smoothly. Let's talk about what it's going to be like when you get there," he said, sitting down in the chair he usually does.

"Okay, you don't have to call me Miss Randle by the way, that's what everyone called my mother. Everyone just calls me Cookie," I said.

"Really? Your paper says your name is Y/n, I've just been calling you Miss Randle as a formality. How'd you get Cookie?" He asked curiously.

"Well, when me and Steve were little and learning to talk, my first word was 'Cookie' and to no ones surprise, his was 'Chocolate cake'. My mom had always called me Cookie, and when she died, I wanted sort of a permanent memory of her, so I told every to call me Cookie. It's stuck ever since," I said, smiling softly at the memory.

"I'm sorry about your loss, when did your mother pass?" Jacob asked.

"She died nine years ago. My dad was a dead beat drunk and left us a while ago. So, the house kind officially unofficially went to me and Steve. Mom left it in her will to us when we turned 18, and we just did so, yeah. We don't have much blood family and the ones we do have are all in asylums or rehabs," I said, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal.

"Wow, I'm so sorry," he said looking at me. We sat in silence a bit before he spoke again. "Okay, um let's go over what's going to happen tomorrow. I see the police gave you your dress?" He said, motioning to the pink one Steve and Soda brought.

"Yeah, Steve and Soda picked it out."

"Good. You'll look nice. Okay, tomorrow you will get ready, an officer will bring you out to the trial, then the judge will come in. The Sheldon's lawyer will present his case and evidence on why you should be jailed. Keep your cool no matter what he says. They've been digging into you trying to get as much dirt on you as possible. Anything they can use against you they will. If you're asked to the stands, just go. Answer their questions, give no additional information, and move on. Once they're done, I'll make my case. I'm going to call up Ponyboy and Johnny to the stand. Don't freak out. I've already talked to Darry."

"Okay, this sounds like a lot," I said anxiously. "What will happen after?"

"Well, the judge and jury will be excused from the room. They'll give us a 30 minute 'recess'," he did the last part with finger quotes, "to recollect ourselves. Then, after the 30 minutes are up, the judge will call us back in, and he will make his verdict. If things go very well, you might not get any time. Well, a few months, maybe a year. Horribly, you're looking at a life sentence."