Teenage Crime

Chapter 9

The restaurant that took two long hours to get to was nothing special. Simply a steakhouse with over expensive wine and chinsy Christmas decorations. Aspyn couldn’t figure out if the restaurant had managers who were too lazy to take them down, or if it had a Christmas theme. She guessed the ladder half.

         Towards the middle of dinner, Mr. O’Strander directed his attention at Aspyn.

         “Aspyn?”

         “Yes?”

         “Your father called last night. Wanted to know how you’re doing.”

         Aspyn looked down. “Did he?”

         “He wants you to call him, he says he has to talk to you about some things.”

         Aspyn slowly nodded, swallowing hard.

         “He emailed me this morning, saying tonight would be a good time. Would you like to step out and call him?”

         The waiter led her outside to the back of the building. It was a dark alleyway, the kind you see in some crime show where someone gets murdered.

         She dialed her father’s number, bracing for the worst.

         “Hello?” She heard her fathers voice say over the phone. He could hear laughter in the background. It sounded faintly like Leighton, but she couldn’t tell.   

         “Dad? Why’d you want me to call?”

         She heard Leighton, presumably, ask if it was her. Her father quickly ‘yessed’ her.

         “How are you doing?”

         “Fine. Why are you calling?”

         “I want you to know that this is for your own good, Aspyn. I have arranged for you to go to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting Saturday morning.”

         “What?”

         “Aspyn, you’re lucky you’re not going to jail. They found two grams of cocaine on you. That’s punishable for up to five years in jail. I could be sending you to a rehab center. Is that what you want? God dammit Aspyn, why can’t you just keep yourself out of trouble?”

         Her fathers voice was rising.

         “Where is this stupid fucking meeting?”    

         “Mr. O’Strander will take you there. Harry will go with you for moral support.”

         “I don’t need moral support. I’m not addicted to cocaine.”

         “Listen Aspyn I don’t need to be paying for all of this. Our attorney said it would be good for you to go to support groups to show the judge you’re taking initiative to change. You’re 17 and this is your sixth time being arrested. You’re facing up to ten years in jail. Do you care, Aspyn? Because I’m not sure I do anymore.”

         Aspyn swallowed back her tears.

         “That makes two of us, dad.” She croaked, her voice cracking. She hung up and dropped her phone. She slid down the wall, sitting on the wet ground.

         She didn’t need to go to fucking support groups, she didn’t need a bunch of strung out, middle aged druggies patting her on the back telling her she’d eventually have her life straightened out. Maybe she didn’t want to straighten out her life. Maybe she enjoyed teetering off the edge. Hell, it’s not like it didn’t help her ever.