Eighteen

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JENSEN HOUSEHOLD
IMOGEN'S POV

"Why didn't either of you call me right away?" My mom asked, as we all sat at the dining room table. Me, Clay, Justin and my parents, and Clay sighed. Deputy Standall told me that I could call my mom at any time since I'm 18, and also because of that factor, my mom didn't have to be present in order for them to talk to me. Justin's still 17 though, so he needed to have an adult or a lawyer with him. Yes, I am older than him, but not by too much since we're in the same grade.

"We didn't want you to worry." Clay said.

"Well, we're worried." Mom said.

"Clay. . Justin and Imogen said you were brought in last week too." Dad said.

"It was just random. They were talking to a lot of kids." Clay said, which was true, but this time, they specifically came to the three of us, for an old thing that we were now going to have to explain to our parents.

"So why would you agree to talk to them again without a lawyer when they clearly think you had something to do with this?" Mom asked.

"Because I don't have anything to do with it." Clay said.

"We're getting you a lawyer." Mom said.

"Mom. Clay didn't do anything. .-" I started to explain, but I was cut off by my dad, of course trying to keep the peace as always, I love that man.

". .-Okay, let's just. Let's take a minute." Dad said.

"He had a gun in his hand, Matt." Mom said.

"Yeah, that was. . that was nothing." Clay said.

"Nothing? A gun is nothing? Where did you get it?" Mom asked, and Clay sat silent, we all did. "Where is it now?" She asked, and I could see the tears in her eyes. "Clay, what the fuck were you thinking?" She asked and my eyes widened.

I've never heard my mother cuss.

"Lai. .-" Dad started to say, but Clay started to talk over him.

". .-It doesn't matter, okay? I was upset and I borrowed the gun from a friend and gave it back." Clay said, slightly raising his voice.

"What friend?" Mom asked, and then she looked at us. "Justin, Imogen. Do you know?" She asked.

"Leave them out of this." Clay said, and Mom immediately looked back at him.

"Clay, I don't think you understand what's going on here." Mom said.

"I didn't do anything." Clay said.

"But the police think that you did." Mom said, and I understand what she was trying to say. Even though Clay didn't do anything, and I'm sure we all know he didn't do anything. Once the police thinks he's done something, they'll do anything they can, grasp at any straws they can find to try and find any kind of evidence against him.

"Yeah, but I didn't!" Clay said, raising his voice more.

"You know as well as I do that the court system is not perfect and that innocence is not a perfect defense." Mom said.

"You don't believe me? You think I did something?" Clay asked.

"Clay, she's not saying that. You just need to be prepared. If the police name you as a suspect, pubically. . it could get really bad, even though we know you didn't do anything." I said, but he was still looking at our mom for an answer, one that she didn't give.

"I don't fucking believe this!" Clay exclaimed, standing up from the table.

"Okay. Hey, let's just take a breath." Dad said, raising his voice a little louder, and Clay looked at him.

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