This May Go On Your Permanent Record by Kelly Swails

Chapter 3

JUDGEMENT DAY

The next morning I stood in front of the little mirror over the sink and adjusted my clothes. Ms. Knight had sent over a dress shirt, a pair of slacks, and some dress shoes, all my size and all brand-new. At least she hadn't sent a dress. I hadn't ever gotten to change my clothes before going to arraignment court. It struck me as odd. When the officer had brought them—it hadn't been Stanton—I wondered how Ms. Knight had known what sizes to get, but then figured I didn't want to know. Knight—or whoever paid my bill—could have gotten the information from my mom, but I doubt she even knew my sizes. She hadn't bought my clothes since third grade.

Once I'd brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and carefully washed my now bandage-free hands, I was ready. The officer brought a breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs and I ignored the knots in my stomach and painful scrapes long enough to eat them. Afterwards I sat on the bed and picked at a hangnail until the officer came back for me. She led me to the back of the station and outside where a black SUV idled in the alley. Sunlight blinded me as she opened the back door. Shielding my eyes, I slid into the soft gray leather back seat and enjoyed the new-car smell. The officer closed the door and I jumped as the automatic locks clicked.

"Buckle up," Ms. Knight said over her shoulder as she adjusted her sunglasses.

"Why are you taking me?" I said. "Shouldn't the police be doing this?"

"You're an expert in police procedure, are you?"

I met her eyes in the rearview. "I've done this before."

"Not here," she said, "and not with me."

On the way across town Ms. Knight talked about what was going to happen in the courtroom. As her words filled the car my stomach clenched and I had to pee. I was going to court with nobody but my lawyer at my side. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I really wished my mom was with me. At least I wouldn't be alone. I watched the scenery outside the window to distract myself.

Once Ms. Knight pulled into a parking spot, we got out of the car. Even though it was still early the sun's heat radiated off the pavement. The overwhelming smell of hot asphalt made me gag a little. I started to walk to the courthouse, but Knight stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"Hold on," she said. She brushed my shoulders, adjusted my hair, and stood back. She put a finger on her lip as she inspected me. I had the urge to wash my face again. Finally she pulled something from her pocket. "Put this in your hair," she said.

I held out my hand and she dropped it into my palm. A pink Hello Kitty barrette mocked me.

"You're kidding, right?" I said. I hadn't worn anything pink. . . well, probably since Mom stopped buying my clothes.

"It's going to make you look younger and more innocent," she said.

"I doubt a barrette is going to do that."

"Humor me."

I grimaced, swept my bangs to the side, and clipped them back. "Satisfied?" I said.

She fluffed the hair around my ears and nodded. "Now I am." She picked up her briefcase. "After you."

I walked along the tree-lined sidewalk and climbed the stairs of the courthouse. The old building looked every bit its age. Huge stonework lions sat on either side of the wide concrete steps. Both the lions and the steps had cracks on their surfaces. Inside, marble tiles covered the floor. The place smelled like old paper and furniture polish and prestige. Our footsteps echoed off the vaulted ceiling.

"Courtroom's on the second floor," she said.

I nodded and laid a hand on the wooden banister. I climbed the wooden stairs, walked across the hall, and stopped outside the courtroom. I stared at the double doors. My fate waited on the other side.