The Boy Who Lives In My Garage > jariana (COMPLETED)

twenty-three

Two hours later, we pull into the Ferndale Police Department's parking lot. My mom's Trailblazer and the SUV that pulled away from the Bieber's house are both in the lot.

We rush to the door and into the warmth of the building. My parents are sitting on a bench in the lobby. Despite all the issues I've had with my parents over the years, I'm relieved to see them. I'm relieved they came through for me.

"Bathroom," Alyssa says, nodding to our left.

I nod and let the three of them head into the women's restroom. As I approach my parents, tears sting the back of my eyes. They both stand. Without a word, Dad pulls me in for a hug.

"Thank you for your help," I say into his shoulder, holding Jason's note tight against his back.

He lets go and holds me out at arm's length. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's been a long day, and I'm nervous, but I'm okay." Next I turn to my mom. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Mom says. "We'll get through this."

"Where's Justin?" I ask.

"He's in a holding cell right now," Dad says. He motions to the paper in my hand. "Let's see this letter."

While my parents read, I spin Kayla's ring on my thumb and look around the lobby. There's a long hallway with several forks, and I wonder which one leads to Justin. He's so close, yet so far. I try not to worry about him, because after surviving a few months on the streets, a holding cell must be a piece of cake.

By the time my parents get to the end of the letter, Mom is wiping at her eyes, and Dad has to clear his throat before he can speak. "Wow," he says. "Okay. Let me try to get this to them."

I put a hand on his arm to stop him. The Bieber's didn't want to listen to my thoughts on Jason and Justin, but maybe they would listen to my own story. The one I think I have to be brave enough to share. "I'd like to give it to them. If I can. I need one more chance to talk to them. Please."

At first, Dad looks like he's going to argue with me, but slowly his expression changes. He nods. "No guarantees. But I'll try." Once he disappears down the hall, Mom and I walk over to my sister, Rosalinda, and Misty, who have emerged from the restroom. Mom squeezes Heather's shoulder and says, "Thank you girls for being with Ariana, but you three should be in school."

"Will you text us? Let us know what happens?" Misty asks.

"I will. Thank you," I say. "I couldn't have done this without you guys."

"Aw, sappy group hug time," Rosalinda says, pulling the four of us together. I hold on tight and manage a smile.

When we let go, Alyssa pulls me in for an individual hug. "Good luck, little sister."

"Remember. Mental tequila," Rosalinda says.

"Got it."

After the requisite "drive safelys" and "good-byes," Mom and I are alone. We walk slowly back to the bench where she and Dad were sitting when I arrived. The clack of her heels against stamped concrete echoes off the walls. "Mental tequila?" she asks. "Do I even want to know?"

"It's harmless," I say as we sit down.

"If you say so." She shakes her head. "I can't believe you girls drove to Traverse City."

"Yeah. About that. What punishment is left when I'm already grounded until I'm thirty?"

Mom sighs. "That whole 'grounding' thing doesn't seem to work for you. Maybe we could work something else out. A few honest conversations. Maybe some overdue therapy. And definitely cleaning the entire house from top to bottom once a week until you move out."