Sarah Smiles

Bittersweet

Sarah's POV

Brendon and I are sitting in a small waiting area at the police station. He sits in a chair and I sit on the floor in front of him, leaning against his legs. He's rubbing my shoulders, patting my head, doing anything he can think of to comfort me. It isn't really working.

"Dear, you're OK now. Jamie's going to jail, as long as you can tell the nice police officer what he did to you." Brendon whispers in my ear. He slides out of his chair and onto the floor behind me, my legs crossed, his stretched out in a v shape around my body. He turns me around so that we're face to face.

"Bren, I don't want to talk. It hurts to talk." I cry into him. He hugs me and rubs circles into my back.

"I know, Sare, I know. But you have to tell them what he did, hun, or they can't help you." He soothes. I nod and stay pressed into his shoulder in the most safe hug I've ever had.

"Sarah? We'll be questioning you now. If you want, your friend can come too." A police officer smiles sadly at us. I nod and take Brendon's hand. He helps me to my feet and we follow the officer to a small room in the back of the station.

The whole police station, overall, is not very big. There are four or five work cubicles, a couple desks, a small waiting room, a break room and an interrogation room. We get to go into the break room, where there are a few cups of coffee on the table and a glass of what looks like apple juice with it. I hate apple juice, it makes me gag.

We sit on an oversized couch across from a couple of police officers. "OK. Can you start from the beginning for us, sweety?" One asks, she looks like a mom. The way she says 'sweety' gives it away. I wish my mom called me sweety. . .

"It was a normal school day. We got let out early to go to our lockers before the hallways got too crowded. I turned around to leave, and- and there was Jamie Bolton, captain of the wrestling and football teams. He's pretty much the star athlete at our school and he thinks that he can get away with whatever he wants." I pause, not wanting to go into details about the assault. Brendon traces circles on my hand, making me feel safe and secure. "Well I tried to pass by him, but he pushed me back against the wall and . . . groped me. I fell to the floor, I felt humiliated, there was already a crowd of people growing around us. I was so afraid." I start to cry into Brendon's shoulder again. He puts an arm around me, allowing me to stay.

"It's OK, Sarah. You don't need to go into detail." He mutters into my ear. Then to the officers, "I'll continue with what I saw. So, I was coming to pick up Sarah to go for a driving lesson. When I went into the school, I saw some jock making out with her. Now I know Sarah well enough to know that she would never allow that. I saw the kid pull away and kick her, hard, in the stomach. He just- he just walked away like it was nothing." Brendon fumbles. He collects himself and starts again. "I took Sarah to my car and went to go find the guy, and, in the heat of the moment, I tackled him and punched him in the face. I then called the police station." He finishes, looking ashamed of his rash decision.

"Don't worry about that." The male officer says. "We're going to keep him overnight and then transfer him to a juvenile delinquent center. You're going to be alright, Sarah." One of the officers awkwardly tries to reassure me by patting my hand. I look at Brendon, relieved, and his face is a mirror of my own emotions. I'm so glad he was there when I needed him.