"Hey, Jules, it's Jason. Again. Listen, I'm sorry for everything I said last week, can you please call me back? I'm not going to stop until you do. I love you so much, and I didn't mean a word of it. Please forgive me. Um, call me back, please. I love you. Bye." I hung up as Brian pulled into my driveway, sighing before dialing her number again.
"Julia. It's me. Please call me back. I love you so much, baby, please. I'm begging. Please just call me back, or text me, or something. I'm desperate. I love you. Bye."
"How many messages is that?" Brian asked me as I climbed into the front seat, slumping down. "Eleven. Just since I got up. And I got up half an hour ago." "No reply?" "Nothing." "What did you do, man. She sounds freaking pissed."
"I called her a whore," I mumbled, looking out the window. "Well, girls normally don't like being called whore's, just so you know." I turned my head and sent him a death glare, my fingernails digging into the leather of the seat as I resisted punching him. I was so much on edge lately, mostly from the worry of Julia not forgiving me, but from everything. The weed and alcohol was starting to have less of an affect the more I worried, so I just used more until I passed out.
"Looks like you dressed up for the occasion," he said, nodding his head towards my grey skinny jeans and my blue v-neck. "It's the government. They're lucky I got out of bed."
The rest of the car ride was filled with an awkward silence, Brian trying to make conversation and me giving him one or two word answers. By the time we pulled up to the courthouse, he was ready to get rid of me. "Well, uh, have fun," he said awkwardly as I opened my door. "Yup." I slammed the door and walked into the courthouse, sighing. This was going to be interesting.
..............
"All rise for the honorable Judge Dart." Everyone else rose to their feet while I stayed in the uncomfortable wooden chair, picking at my fingernails, humming. "All rise, Jason," the lawyer, or whatever he was called, since I hadn't been arrested, hissed, grabbing my arm and tugging me to my feet. I huffed impatiently and shoved my hands into my pockets, slouching my shoulders like Aunt Margret told me not to.
The bailiff motioned for all of us to sit down, and I made a show of plopping myself into my chair as loud as I could; he glared at me, earning himself a nice cheeky grin from mwa.
"Alright, what do we have here?" The judge look at me over the rim of his glasses, peering down at me like I was a bug. "Jason McCann. Hmm. I understand you're not old enough to legally live on your own, am I right?" "If I was, I wouldn't be here," I said flatly, over riding my lawyer as he opened his mouth to talk. The judge's eyebrows went from making wrinkles in his already wrinkled forehead to low over his eyes, the friendly gaze in his eyes vanishing. "Mr. McCann, even though you are not under arrest, I ask that you treat me with respect in my courtroom, understood?" I rolled my eyes.
"Sure. Why not." He grit his dentures together and looked down at my ‘file'. "And you're brother is recently deceased." "No shit, Sherlock," I sassed, wagging my body in my seat, taunting him. "Good for you! Want a cookie?" "Mr. Dunes, I ask that you control your client." The judge's lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at my lawyer, who immediately flushed bright red and turned to face me.
"You can make this hard, or make this easy, Jason. They're not going to have any sympathy towards you if you don't-," I started bubbling my lips together, like you do in the pool when you're trying to make bubbles, looking boredly around the room. The dull humming sound filled the room, making the judge raised his head and glare at me and my lawyer. "Jason! Stop it." I lowered my head and stopped the noise, pretending to be ashamed. "Thank you. Was that so-," pop.
