Not Another High School Love Story

6. Good Times Are Gone

This is already shaping up to be the worst day of my life. We're all in so much fucking trouble, and to top it off, I still feel terrible. It's not so bad now that I've got some water in me, and I know the rest is just nerves, but I'm pretty sure I might throw up again at any second. The cops had been surprisingly polite when they'd caught me, I mean, they probably deal with this kind of thing all the time, but it's not enough to buy us any leniency. They basically just lectured us about the dangers of underage drinking and how we need to make responsible choices, but that's it. I hoped they might let us go after that, but they called our parents instead.

Even though I hate to admit it, I wonder if they took it easy on us because of my dad. They know who he is, they said as much when I told them my name. Like I said, everyone loves him, including me, but I can already see his face in my head. It won't be pretty. I'm not alone though, Grace's parents are definitely going to freak out, she looks just as petrified as I am when I glance over at her. Apparently she'd been caught right away, so it wouldn't have mattered if I went back for her or not. Brent got busted too, I don't know how, but he sits on the other side of me.

Of course we're not the only ones who got caught, there were a couple others, but now they're gone and it's just we three few. We're all scared, so we haven't really said much, but at least we have the deafening hands of the clock to keep us company as they spin around. Grace picks at the loose threads in her shirt, and I can practically hear what she's thinking. We've been friends a long time, I know what she's like when she's scared. Brent, on the other hand, is a mystery, and I've never seen him like this.

I guess fear's just another thing I didn't think he was capable of, but he gives himself away as he stares at his shoes, motionless and without blinking. His lips are drawn taught, and I see him grinding his teeth. It's weird to think that he's afraid of anything, but obviously he's as human as the rest of us. I want to say something to him, to either of them, but I'm just as scared. Instead I reach over slowly, palm up, and wait. Before long I feel a familiar hand in mine, and I comfort Grace the only way I can now as we brave this next new experience together. If I had to be here with anyone, I'm glad it's her.

Yet she pulls away from me way too soon when we hear something change. The office we're in is made of glass, so we're able to see what's happening just outside of it as we turn to view Grace's mom coming. I can't make out what she's saying from in here, but even if I could I doubt I'd catch any of it. Mrs. Porter speaks impossibly fast to the cop who walks behind her, and it's evident she's not too happy, but that's not very surprising. She says nothing when she enters the office, but she doesn't have to, the look she gives her daughter is sufficient as Grace goes to her side.

Before they leave I dare to look at my best friend, and then at her mother. Mrs. Porter acts like she has a lot to say to me, but instead she just points for a long time, and I avert my eyes shamefully when they leave. Then it's just me and Brent, and somehow it seems quieter than it did before. He still hasn't moved, and it's sad how defeated he looks. Obviously I can't offer him a hand to hold, at least I don't think, so I'm not sure what else to do for him. Either way he needs something, I can tell, and I work to stow my fear so I can be there for him too.

"How did you get caught?" I begin, man to man. I'm having a little trouble remembering just how it all went down, but I can recall those last few seconds before I slipped back into the house. "I thought you ran?"

"I was waiting for you." He answers right away, but it doesn't fill me with awe. This time it's not so much an act of kindness, and I can hear the accusation.

"Why? I didn't ask you to." It's not my fault he got arrested, and I refuse to be blamed. I already feel bad enough, I don't need this from him. My curt response must be offensive because he turns to give me a glare, but his anger wavers after a minute and he just shakes his head, going back to ignoring me. I think about it some more, and I realize that no matter how it comes across now, he had good intentions. Great ones, actually. Still, why would he take that kind of risk for me? I'm more patient when I begin again. "It could've been worse, at least they're letting us go."