Perfectly Imperfect | ✓

Two

It's been a week since Tristen's passing. In that time span Rosealine and I have only been at school twice. According to our friends there's been an assembly teaching the importance of drinking and substance abuse and safety, and a memorial tree dedicated to Tristen in the courtyard. "It's bullshit really, you can't just acknowledge someone's existence when it's all too late. And all these 'friends' of his didn't even know his last name." I continued to ramble on as I entered Rosealine house. She seemed off guard and strangely quiet. Everyone had their own way of grief, I blame everyone and myself while other find different ways to channel it. Rosealine, she was numb. I couldn't help but think of all the pain she felt. I took the opportunity of her pondering to sneak into her room and grab her 5sos hoodie and most comfortable shoes. I chucked them at her finally waking her from the daydream. "Let's go." I started out the door. "Where are we-" she asked. I held her arm in mine and started down the road.

About thirty minutes later I felt the two of our hearts ease as the aroma of soft serve and seawater surrounded us. "Nothing will change the fact he's gone." She said.

"I know, nothing at all bunny."

"I still love him."

"I know."

"Even though I wanted to eat Jacobs face off."

"Even though you wanted to eat Jacobs face off." I smiled. We made our way over to the beach and listened as the shore and waves met vigorously. I leaned my head on her shoulder and she leaned her head on mine, " It's gonna get worst before it gets better you know. But that's what we're here for." I sighed. " I know." She muttered. " I love you."

" I love you too."

I don't remember dozing off but we both shot up to our feet as a voice attempted to present itself above us. "Rosealine and Allison?" The rough mans voice spoke. "Yes." We hummed simultaneously. "Creeksprings Police Department." He presented his badge before guiding us across the street to his car. "You're being taken in regarding question in the case for the murder of Tristen Carrington." He started before closing the door. My heart became heavy and my head swirled and I met Rosealine's terrified gaze, what just happened?

We waited for what seemed like two hours alone in a bland room with a single table and chair. I don't know if it's because we had no form of communication to peach other or the rest of the world in those few moments but I felt as if I had been kidnapped for years. "Allison Rodgersman?" A curvy bold woman stepped through the door in a dark gray pantsuit. I nodded hesitantly. "I'm Mrs. Evans, your family lawyer, you do have the right to plead the fifth in which sorts I will use all reliable evidence to prove you innocence, or you may choose to speak freely in which you may be convicted to stand in trial and hold responsibility for the murder charges of your friend." She sat next to me getting straight to the point. My throat was dry and I couldn't even get a croak out to ask any questions. I had so many. I mean, murder? Held accountable? Why am I here? Where's Rosealine? As if my mind was being read, the detective appeared with a glass of room temperature water sliding it towards me. "I'd like a minute with my lawyer please." I stated. "That won't be necessary Ms. Rodgersman, I only have a few general questions, none of which are related to the following case." The young man in front of me insisted. I turned to my new partner and she nodded giving me reassurance to follow through. I nodded back encouraging the young man to continue.

"Where were you last week Saturday at 9:35 pm?" He met my gaze.

"Rosealine's house," I tried to keep it all short and straight to the point.

"Why were you there?"

"No unrelated questions please Detective." Mrs. Evans cut in.

"My apologies. How well do you know Mr. Carrignton?"

"Very well." I answered.

"Do you know anyone who would've had any motive to harm or plot against Mr. Carrington?"

"No."

"Not even a jealous ex."

I felt Mrs. Evans' piercing stare burning holes through the young detectives skull. "No."

"Was there any alcohol present during the night of the murder?"

"Detective. No case related questions." Mrs. Evans firmly stated, clearly irritated with the young cop.

"Again my apologies. That should conclude our interview." He stood up and reach for a handshake. I shook his hand and he gave a slight smile meeting my eyes before walking out.

"Are you okay honey?" Mrs. Evans asked before I walked out of the room. Nodding weakly, I found my way to the scent of coffee in the break room. As my hands shook, my fingers guided their way to a vanilla latte. "Are you sure you need anymore caffeine?" A strangely familiar voice startled me. I jumped nearly dropping the cup. "Oh I'm sorry, here let me help." The young Detective rushed over taking my cup and placing a lid on it. "Detective Lucas. I'm very sorry about your friend, and about pressuring you in there my bosses were watching." I shrugged taking a small sip of the liquid lava. "Are you sure your okay?" He asked brushing my forearm. I flinched not in the mood to be touched, the only person I needed was Rosealine. "I just found out my best friend was murdered in the same house as me, instead of drowning." I shuddered still not meeting his glare. "Here." He reached behind me scribbling something down on a napkin.

"Call if you have any questions or concerns or even if you need someone to reach out to. I'll try my best to inform you with as much information needed." He gave me a half smile, and I finally meet his bright orbs. I couldn't help but give a quarter smile back. "Thanks." I muttered walking out of the break room, as if the stars had aligned in our favor, I bumped right into Rosealine who seemed as if she just saw a ghost. "Bunny you okay? Did they pressure you?" She shook her head. "There's pictures of the body in his file, I caught a glimpse." She said with a shaky breath. I pulled her in tightly, "Let's get out of here."

As we exited the cramped, dull corridor we opened into the break room to find Rain, Toby, Harley,Parker, and Liana lined up at the front desk. "Guys?" I called out. "Questioning." Liana said. We followed each other's confused blank stares to the exit door as Rosealine and I walked home.

Who, of all people would've and could've killed Tristen?