Recovery

Chapter 8

I chew on my lip the whole ride to the police station.

"Why couldn't we just do this at home again?" I ask, my voice wavering with nerves.

Mom sighs, and looks at me in the rear view mirror. "Honey, the police station has interview rooms, with cameras and voice recorders, that way you won't need to tell them again if they forget." I nod my head absently, actually thinking about how I'm getting treated like the criminal when I'm actually the victim. Huh. Ironic, isn't it? I feel myself getting defensive as we pull into the police parking lot.

I open the car door, after mom and Brent, and we all walk into the spacious foyer together, meeting officer Dowling at the front desk. He leads us through a maze of hallways, and I find myself thinking about whether or not they did this on purpose, to make it harder for people to escape from the holding cells. I shudder at the thought of being in the same building as potentially dangerous criminals.

"You okay?" Brent whispers in my ear.

"Ya," I whisper back, "but aren't there, like, murderers here?"

I guess officer Dowling hear my question and he laughed. "Sweetie, there are no bad guys here right now. It's perfectly safe." How old did this guy think I was? Four? I roll my eyes and look away. I think of how that must've looked, me going all 'rebellious teenager' on a police officer, and I giggle. That rewards me with weird looks from all three people walking with me. That makes me giggle more. Soon I'm hysterical with laughter.

Brent clears his throat. "I think she's going crazy." I snort, and that makes him chuckle, and me laugh harder. Soon the two of us are laughing and we lean against the wall, doubling over and gasping for breath. It's not long before mom and officer Dowling are laughing too.

After five minutes of hyperventilating, we continue down the hall and turn into a small room, with a small table, with two small chairs on either side of it. Everything about this room was small. Well, everything but the men inside it at least. They definitely were not small. Officer Dowling slid in on one side, and I slid in on the other side so that we face each other. Brent sat beside me and mom sat next to officer Dowling.

I look down at my hands, and start telling my story. I tell it the exact way I told Brent except I leave out the part about Max. The tears start falling about halfway through, and I feel Brent wrap his arm around me in an awkward side hug.

I finish my side of the story, and, as always, I feel nauseous.

"I'm going to be sick," I declare, standing up and looking around for a garbage can or something. Finally, in a last-ditch effort, I grab Brent's SnapBack off of his head, and my pop-tarts make a reappearance. I turn around, and everyone's staring at me, their expressions tell me that they're grossed out.

Finally, officer Dowling clears his throat. "There's, ah, a garbage can beside your mom there..."

Oh great. How did I not see that? I walk over to the garbage can and drop Brent's now ruined hat into the garbage can.

"You owe me," Brent grins at me. "I didn't really like that hat, to begin with." He winks at me and I remember that it was the hat that his high school girlfriend, Nina, gave him for Christmas two years ago. Ooh. Great, that was his only SnapBack, so I'll definitely need to buy him another.

I sit back down and take a sip from the water bottle officer Dowling hands me. I look at my lap. "Sorry, that was embarrassing," I say, forcing a feeble laugh.

"Well," the officer stands up, "I think we're done here." The rest of us stand up too, and, once again, we follow officer Dowling through the maze of hallways.

Eventually, we make it to the front lobby.

"Amber, get Steve to empty the garbage in interview room 216, will you?" Officer Dowling reaches behind the desk counter for something, and the receptionist, Amber shoots me an understanding look and types something on her phone. Probably texting Steve to clean up my mess. Oops.

Officer Dowling comes up from the desk with a paper and a box of doughnuts. So apparently that stereotype is true.

"So, I'll need you, Alexis, and you, Margret, to sign here and here," he said gesturing to some blank lines on some sort of legal paper. But hey, since when was he on a first name basis with my mom?

"Thanks, Landon." My mom looks at him and smiles. Okay, now that's a bit weird...

My mom takes a blue pen and I'm just staring at the box of doughnuts. That would be rude if we didn't get any. That's like stealing candy from a kid. That's just not right.

"You can have one after you sign the paper," apparently officer Dowling noticed my staring. I shut my mouth as I start blushing, and take the pen from my mom. I sign where I had to, not even bothering to read anything, I trust that it's not some silly bribe. It shouldn't be if mom agreed to sign it, anyways.

"Brent, could I get you to sign here too?" Officer Dowling asks. "It's for if a witness was present," he clarifies. While Brent signs the paper, he opens the doughnut box, and holds it out to me. I look at him, and he's smiling. Probably at how goofy I look. Doughnuts are even better than pop-tarts. Mom should marry this man! I reach for a Boston Cream and take a bite, holding my left hand under my chin to catch any crumbs.

"Alexis, you're being rude!" My mother scolds me, glaring at me.

"Ith naw oithonuth!" I say, my mouth still full, crumbs falling out of my mouth as I smile cheekily at mom. She rolls her eyes and I hear officer Dowling and Brent both chuckle.

My mom takes a chocolate doughnut, and Brent takes one of those vanilla ones with the sprinkles.

"I have to say that I like Boston Cream too," officer Dowling grins at me as he takes the last one in the box. For some reason, I feel protective of the last Boston Cream. I try my best not to let it show. I always refuse to eat the last of anything, and my family always needs to sneak the last of everything when I'm not there.

"Did I do something?" Apparently the officer saw the anger in my eyes.

Brent rolls his eyes. "You ate the last Boston Cream."

He holds if out to me, his eyes innocent. "You want it?"

I shoot him a dirty look and Brent starts laughing. Poor officer Dowling looks so confused right now.

Amidst his laughter, Brent manages to say, "she refuses to eat or watch someone eat the last of something. We need to go behind her back to finish off everything!"

I frown, and see the officer give me a funny look. "Well, we're done here, so I should be going..." He awkwardly walks down the hall, and glare after him, he would be writhing on the floor right now if looks could kill.

Mom hands me something damp. It's a baby wipe, she always carries them in her purse no matter where she goes. I wipe my hands, and wring it out, pretending it was officer Dowling's sorry neck.

I feel a firm hand on my shoulder, and I turn around, and start walking to the door, only to walk smack dab into Brent. He chuckles and turns around too , leaving one of his hands on my shoulder, walking through the doors behind mom, to the car.

"Time for school shopping!" Mom says in an over zealous voice, as I get in the car, with mom and Brent in the front this time. I wring my hands in my lap.

Great.