Now There's Drama

110

If she wanted the real information she'd have to speak to Wesley. Christie checked the local juvenile detention centre for opening times before making a call to meet him. Whilst alerting she fabricated a story which included her being his girlfriend and she was carrying his child.

Reaching the detention centre she kept counting and made sure she counted her steps so they were divisible by five.

A warden opened the door and she gave her name and ID. They took her through to where the other family members sat with their children.

Wesley's face lit up he saw Christie. He was in his jumpsuit like the rest of them, handcuffed and sitting at a round table.

Christie sat opposite him, swinging her legs over the bench and trying to catch his eyes, which he had downcast. "Just letting you know I said I was your girlfriend and I'm carrying your child."

Wesley let out a laugh before a few tears dripped out of his eyes. "Thank you for coming. I miss you guys so much, Mum and Frankie were here yesterday and I don't want my little brother to see this kind of thing. I don't want you to see it either. And Christmas is coming up and all I want is to go home. They've refused bail and I'm innocent," Wesley said, folding his hands and resting his head on them.

"I know Wes, I'm going to get you out," she said, folding her hands, neurolinguistics, hopefully that would calm him.

"Thank you Christie, it's so good to see someone on my side." He dipped his head, refusing to meet her eyes.

"How's everyone treating you?"

"They're alright, I mean some of them I probably would have been great friends with if we met outside of here. Some of them aren't so much, you have to fight your way to the top in some cases."

Christie studied his face, which was covered in bruises as were his arms. "So no one knows about..." Her eyes trailed down.

"No, I'm scared of being killed. How do you know?"

"Tegan was talking about it when we were driving into town to save Marc's arse. On a more important note do you have any ideas on who killed Kip?"

"If I ever get out of here I'll hit her. Umm...I don't know I was out of the change room pretty quickly," he whispered. "Kip takes forever to change. Have you seen how long it takes him to change for PE? Whoever did it had to be quick though. Was there an air vent?"

"Wes you're a genius."

He smiled briefly before his face darkened. "Could you do me a favour? Please call Lorenzo his number is 0555-687-821, tell him what's happened and that I'm sorry," he asked, fidgeting in his seat.

"Of course." The two of them stood up and climbed out of their seats, the officer watching them intently. Christie moved closer and kissed Wesley's cheek. "Our fake baby and I are very proud of you," she said placing a hand over her stomach.

"Thank you," he said, smiling.

Christie was let out and caught the bus home sitting next to a crotchety old woman, who kept glaring at her. She fidgeted with her phone, dialling Lorenzo's number but leaving it there. As the bus jolted and jerked Christie had the time to contemplate the solitary nature of life, crime and punishment.

The old woman shifted away from Christie, probably seeing her come out of a juvenile detention centre was the reason her face scrunched up every time she looked at the younger girl. Christie scowled back at her, every time she made eye contact.

The woman's face softened when she saw Christie stand up at Astwright High School bus stop, the school that produced model citizens.

Hanging her head she walked back home, dodging anywhere that might result into bumping into someone she knew.