The Unpredictability of You and Me

fourteen - arrested

Two AM. December 6th. NYPD Office in the Bronx.

If you told me three hours ago that I would be sitting inside a jail cell, wiping my face after having an anxiety attack in the corner, I would have never believed that. But, here we are.

"Jade-" Adrian tries for the second time from the cement bench across from me.

"Please don't," I interrupt.

His face has dried blood in a trail down from his forehead to his cheek, under his nose, and on his lip. He looks like a mess. But who am I to talk? I probably look just as bad.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. I ignore him, blinking the tears out of my eyes, and look away.

"Jade Sanchez?" The police officer calls out.

I wipe my face and stand up quickly. "Yes?"

"We were able to get in touch with your parents. They're on their way."

I don't know if I should be relieved or scared. They're literally going to murder me, but I also can't wait to leave this dingy cell.

A door opens loudly after a few excruciating minutes. It's my parents. Please kill me right now. They both take one look at us in the cell before turning around and talking to the cop.

"We're here for Jade Sanchez and Adrian Perez," Dad says in his business voice.

The cop flips through some papers. "Miss Sanchez is free to go with no charges. However, Mr. Perez is being charged with breaking several rules of his probation, assault of a police officer, and disorderly conduct."

Mom lets out an audible gasp, but Adrian doesn't show any emotion from next to me. "Do you know what happened?"

The officer flips a page. "A neighbor called about a noise complaint from the apartment the kids were in, and when we got there Mr. Perez was fighting with another guy. He also punched a police officer, and when we tested him for blood alcohol levels, it came out above the legal limit."

Oh yeah, I almost forgot he assaulted a police officer. When the police showed up, he wouldn't stop punching DeMonte, and they tried to rip him off. Adrian got up and literally punched one of the police officers in the mouth. Then, he started laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"His probation officer will be coming tomorrow morning to discuss what's going to happen," the police officer continues, unlocking our jail cell. "Until then, you're free to go."

✘✘✘

"What the hell is wrong with you, Perez?" Mr. Mayberry almost yells as soon as Dad opens the door to let him in.

I see Adrian roll his eyes before turning around to face my dad and his probation officer. Well, as much as he can. His right eye is kind of swollen shut, but it's getting better. I haven't talked to him in two days, not since the night we were arrested, because I still can't believe he'd be that stupid. Also, he hasn't even tried talking to me, and there's no way I'm going to him first.

However, he did tell my parents that us going to jail was not my fault at all, so I'm thankful for that. Not that it made them any less angry at me, because I still went to the Bronx at night alone, without telling them. Now, we're both grounded for the next month.

"Not only did you break probation by leaving Manhattan, you also got drunk and managed to get into a fight, arrested, and assault a police officer!" Mayberry continues.

"I know. I was there. You don't have to repeat everything," Adrian cuts in.

"Who was the guy you got into the fight with?"

"Someone who lives in my old neighborhood."

"So you just attacked him for no reason?"

Adrian rolls his eyes. "He came at me."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

Mayberry throws him a look. "If you keep lying, you're going to make this harder on yourself."

Adrian rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I might have slept with his girlfriend right before I moved here."

My jaw drops out of shock. Mom and Dad make audible sighs, and Mayberry palms his forehead with his hand. He mumbles something under his breath before strolling over to the sofa. He opens up his file he brought with him and frowns. "You're going to be put on house arrest."

My eyes go wide. For the first time in days, Adrian shows some emotion on his face for a split second. "What?"

"I have an ankle monitor for you here with me. You are only allowed to go to school and straight back home. After two weeks, if you manage to not break any rules and stay within boundaries, you'll have a 6 PM curfew on weekdays, 8 PM on weekends. Break curfew or leave any boundaries, and it's straight back to juvie." Mayberry pulls out a black box-like ankle monitor from his bag.

Adrian doesn't move. My parents look just as shocked as the rest of us. "Is there any other options?" Mom asks.

"No. A judge wanted to send him back to juvie now, but I managed to convince her to settle with house arrest," Mayberry says. He turns to Adrian. "Look, we all want to help you. No one wants to see a kid like you in prison. You have a bright future if you'd just stop trying to ruin it every chance you get."

The look on Adrian's face, as usual, is unreadable. My mom said him going crazy that night was because he's bipolar. She took him straight to another psychiatrist, one who could prescribe him medicine. They came home two hours later, and he marched straight into his room and didn't come out for a full day, until school on Monday.

"Are you going to put the ankle monitor on me or not?" Adrian snaps.

Mayberry and my parents exchange a look, before he gets up with the ankle monitor. Adrian lifts up the bottom of his sweats on his left leg, sticking it out.

"How did visiting your grandma go?" Mayberry asks while sliding the black box over Adrian's leg.

"Wonderful," he grumbles sarcastically.

When Carter found out we visited their grandma, he cried. He was so surprised that they even had a grandma. Mom called her yesterday and they talked for a while. When Mom found out that she didn't have any close family members on the East coast for Christmas, she invited her over for Christmas and didn't take no as an answer. He started crying even more after that.

Adrian didn't tell anyone about his dad, though.

"There," Mayberry says, standing back up.

Adrian looks down at his ankle monitor, scowling. "Are we done?"

"Yes."

With that, he gets up and takes off into the hallway, slamming the door to his room shut behind him.

"He's a difficult kid," Mayberry says, sighing.

"He can't help it," Mom says. "We're trying our best with him."

"I know, but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, nothing will change."