The Badboy and The Jailbird

Prologue

"You did what?!"

I hear this a lot. Mostly from my mom, but sometimes from policemen, relatives, friends, and others I come across. One year ago, sitting in the police station, my mother's voice pierced the air with this very phrase.

One Year Ago

"You did what!?" My mom yells at me after the chief of police just finished explaining why they brought me in. She is a stout woman, with dirty blonde hair, a degree in Bakery Science, and a passion for writing books she never finishes. We don't have much in common.

"Mr.," I peer at the officer's name tag. "Huffman just told you. Don't you listen?" I reply arrogantly.

"What is going to happen to her?" Her voice here indicates my mother is most likely not worried. She has an irrational belief that everything will always turn out fine, or she wants everyone to believe she thinks that.

"Well, since we have very clear evidence that she stole from them, and she will plead guilty in court," He shoots a pointed look at me and I nod sheepishly. "She will probably receive 1 year in juvenile hall. Of course, we will have to take her in for more questioning." The Chief motions to the closed door behind us.

"But why? What about high school?"

The officer quickly replies, "Well, she had an accomplice that we didn't catch so we wanted to question her on that, and she will have a tutor in Juve so that when she gets out in a year she can go right into senior year."

"Well, okay." My mother looks at me with pitiful eyes and kisses my forehead slowly. I scrunch my nose up in disgust and get a strong whiff of the Cheif's cologne. "If that's all, goodbye and thank you, Chief Huffman." My mother starts to stand up and so does the officer. He presses a button on his desk phone and two slightly younger officers come in and handcuff me. After doing so they lead me through the door and down the hall into the dull interrogation room.

My father suddenly weasels his way into my mind and the fact he wasn't here during all of this relieves me. Jay Stephan Blue died in a car wreck 1 year and 6 months ago while he was drunk and coming home from a party. He drove into a little hotel, attempting to stay the night, but instead smashed right into the lobby, going about 60 mph and killing 1 other person (a woman around 50). Our family never speaks of that day. My mother figured out she was pregnant with her boyfriend's baby about 2 months ago. I hate him for that. I already have an eighteen-year-old sister and that's enough for me. As much as I hate my father, I am glad he hasn't been around to see what a fuck up I've become.

I sit down in the chair while they fasten one of the cuffs to the metal loop on the table. The chief sits down adjacent to me.

The room is silver. Silver walls, silver ceiling, silver table, silver chairs, and silver floors. Silver everything. There are no windows and no other people, other than the officer in front of me and the two standing at the door. They are both quite tall probably around 6'2 and in their early 20s. Both of them have the same-looking hair and faces so my guess is they are brothers. I turn back to face the officer.

"Ask away," I say in a bored tone.

"Tell me everything you know about your accomplice." The chief's eyes contain a challenge that I accept. Anything that I can remember I disclose, although this is not much.

"Ok. He was sort of tall-ish, he had dirty blonde hair... um, blue eyes, that's all I really remember." And it was true that's all I did remember.

The officer starts to ask questions, "What was his name?"

"I don't know. I saw him outside, he asked what I was doing. I told him and he wanted to help." The officer gave me a look saying he doesn't believe me and I just stare back, convincing him it's true.