175 Years

Cow Poop

"All rise."

The scuffle of chairs echoed through the courtroom as thirty-something people rose from their seats.

"Court is now in session."

The bailiffs voice boomed across the open space shaking Macy's already shattered nerves. The judge, white hair and grizzled, slid into his seat.

"Before we get started, I must say it is under rather sad and disturbing circumstances that we meet. The two of you, that is --" taking his glasses off, he motioned to the plaintiffs, -- "two very bright, yet curious, kids. I am not sure whether to apologize or thank you for what is being brought to light."

Kids? Yeah, like they were too young to know anything? Macy hated this attention. Could barely lift her head and look at the judge with how uncomfortable she was. Uncomfortable? That was an understatement. A slight tug on her hand underneath the table slowed the racing of her heart.

Ocean blue eyes met hers. She'd become so comfortable around them. How he did it, she wasn't sure. But every time he looked at her, it was like time froze. At the most traumatic times in her life, those eyes were present. She should hate them and the mess they'd brought. But she didn't. Couldn't.

"Macy Lane to the stand, please."

God, all eyes were on her. It had taken a second to realize. Everyone was waiting. Once on the stand, she pulled the chair out carefully so it didn't squeal against the floor. Just what she needed was more judgment from all these people.

She pulled the chair out from behind the stand to take her seat, careful to not make it squeal against the floor.

"Please state your name and tell us about yourself."

"My name is Macy Lane, and I'm a photographer for the Sunrise High School newspaper."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"Pick up. Pick up. Pick up your phone." Impatience flowed through her as Macy held the phone to her ear.

"Macy, it is seven o'clock on a Saturday morning."

"It's Saturday, Sophia. You know what that means." She could hardly wait.

The groan made it all the way through the line. "If I go with you, and that's still up for debate, I need coffee."

"Already loaded with cream and sugar." She balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder as she poured her own cup of black liquid.

"What does Saturday mean?"

As she whirled, the phone nearly dropped. Her mom stood in the doorway. 

Crap.

"Don't make me say—"

"Macy, you know, I don't approve of this." Her mother's eyebrows knit together, a scowl on her face.

"I know, Mom, I know, but I could be out—"

"Partying or doing drugs," her mom finished her sentence. "You've said it before."

"It's still true. Be thankful that this is the worst I'll ever do." Macy grabbed her camera from the kitchen counter and threw the strap around her neck. Mom's eyes narrowed and her mouth pursed. "That better have been Sofia."

She caught herself from rolling her eyes, just. "It wasn't a boy, if that's what you're concerned about."

Mom nodded innocently. "Not worried. Maybe a boy would be good for you. Keep you out of trouble."

"With high school guys?

"There are good ones. They're just busy living life. You have to go look for them. Like, maybe a nice, church boy or something."