Chapter Twenty-Four
Emerson
I couldn’t help but remember the last time I’d paced the floor of a hospital waiting room. My grandmother had gone in for heart surgery. That was almost as nerve-wracking as waiting for the doctor to come out and give us some news about Dad’s procedure. Anne tried to keep my mind off it by asking about how school was going and other random questions. I figured it was as much for her own sanity as it was for mine, so I finally took a seat next to her and played along with her twenty questions.
When the doctor finally entered the private waiting area he assured us that the surgery had been successful and everything had gone exactly how they had hoped it would. It was reassuring to hear my dad would make a full recovery and be back to one hundred percent health in a matter of weeks. I couldn't wait to tell Brooke. I only hoped she didn’t try to text or call while I was gone and think I was ignoring her, especially after what had happened between us Sunday night.
I didn’t stick around as long as I would have liked after Dad’s surgery. I’d already missed two days of classes, and I didn’t need to miss a third. So, after he came out of his drug-induced stupor and before they could settle him back into another one, I talked to him for a few minutes and hit the road once his second round of pain meds kicked in.
It was around midnight when I got back into town. As I turned the last corner onto the road in front of my apartment building, flashing blue lights caught my attention. There were two police cars parked in front. We didn't see many cops in our area, so I hoped nothing bad had happened.
I pulled up to the curb and parked my bike, apprehensive and a little worried as I stretched my back. I walked up into the building, intending to drop off my backpack at my place and then see if Brooke was awake so that I could tell her the good news--and explain way I hadn't been able to contact her or be contacted for two days.
I opened the front door of my place and stepped in, dropping my bag as I did--and I immediately froze. There were four cops standing in our living room, and Chris was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands. Ciara and a few of her friends were standing around looking guilty, as well.
One of the cops shone his flashlight in my face. “Well, well, well. You must be Emerson. Am I right?” he asked.
“Uh, yes sir, that's me,” I replied uneasily.
“At least this one has some manners,” he said as he glanced at one of the other officers in the room. “You and your roommate here have a regular ol' liquor store up in this apartment, don't ya?”
My blood ran cold. “Um, uh, I…” I stammered, not knowing what to say.
“I hope you're not going to try tell me all this alcohol in here 'isn't yours' or that you're 'keeping it for a friend' or some bullshit story like that. We hear that all the time, kid, so don't waste our time. Now, I'm gonna ask you this once, and you're gonna tell me the truth. Remember, it's a felony to lie to an officer of the law. Are you twenty-one years of age or older?”
My mouth went dry; I could hardly even talk to answer. “Um…”
“Well, son? Are you or are you not?”
“I'm not, sir.”
“Let me see your driver's license.”
I pulled my wallet from my back pocket, fumbled around in it with trembling fingers and pulled out my driver's license, and handed it to the cop. He took it, looked it over and nodded as he handed it back to me.
Another man in uniform came out of the kitchen holding a camera. He tapped on the side of the camera as he spoke. “Alright, boys, I've got all the evidence we need right here.” Obviously, he'd just taken pictures of our stash of beer and liquor. I felt like throwing up.
The cop who had spoken to me before shook his head. “You kids are in a lot of trouble. A lot. We take this kind of thing serious. Real serious.”
“What? I haven’t even been here for two days,” I muttered, looking at Chris in confusion.
“Well, you’re here now, son,” one of the officers said.
My body felt numb. It was almost as if I were watching it all happen to me from outside my body. Everything felt completely surreal. “Uh… what's gonna happen to us?” I asked.
“You and your buddy Chris here are gonna come down to the station with us. We're gonna charge you with possession of alcohol, and if you know what's best for you, you'll do what we say without protesting. Something tells me you'll cooperate with us. Won't you?”
I nodded. “Y-yes, sir.”
“Good. You seem like a respectful young man, so we won't need to cuff you, right? You ain't gonna try nothing stupid like running, are ya?”
“No, sir. We'll cooperate,” I added
“That's what I like to hear. Kowalksky, you and Jackson take the ladies down to the station and book 'em, and I'll take these two down in my car.”
The officer with the camera nodded. “Got it. See you at the station.”
A female officer led the crying Ciara and two other girls out. The other officer scowled at Chris and myself. “Alright,” he said to us, “come with me.”
We walked downstairs behind him in stunned silence as his partner followed behind us. Once we got into the back of the police car, anger shot through me with a sudden fury. I glared at Chris who looked away, unable to meet my stare. “What the hell happened, Chris?!” I said angrily.
“Your little lab partner next door called the cops. That’s what happened.”
“You don’t know who called the cops, Chris.”
“Yeah. I do. I saw her roomie leaving with an armful of books when Ciara and I were getting back from our pizza run. That means your little friend was the only one home.”
“Well, why were you being so loud? I’ve warned you and warned you,” I argued.
“We were just playing some music, just having a little party, bro, just—”
“Just nothing! You idiot! What the hell, man? What the hell?! I told you to stop doing that, I told you!”
“How was I supposed to know those fucking bitches next door would call the cops?”
“Because I told you! Melissa even warned us about it! Damn it, dude, I told you that shit!”
“Well, it's not my fault they're a pair of lame, stuck-up, goody two-shoe types who can't stand having a good time.”
In that moment, I wanted to punch Chris square in the eye. It was only with the barest strands of restraint that I managed to hold myself back from doing just that. “You’re an idiot and it’s not their fault. It’s your fault. Shit, can't you just take responsibility for something for once in your life? Jesus, Chris, I told you someone was gonna call the cops if you didn't stop partying! And, what do you go and do? Despite all the warnings, you keep on!”
“Whatever,” he mumbled. “Some friend you are.”
“Me? Dude, you just got me busted for something I didn’t even do! Do you have any idea what’s going to happen when my—” I paused mid-sentence and simply stopped. “Never mind.” I knew if I kept on, I would say something really hurtful. What happened had happened and being pissed about it couldn't change it. All that was left was to deal with the consequences.
I glared back up at the door to our apartment, then to the one next to it. Had it really been Brooke that had called the cops? Maybe she had done it out of anger. Maybe she thought I'd been deliberately ignoring her these past two days. She had no way of knowing my phone had been lost. Maybe she thought I'd just slept with her and then dropped her—probably confirming all the reasons she'd most likely told herself not to drop those walls around her to begin with. I couldn’t imagine what kind of guy she thought I was at the moment.
Anger flared up inside me again, only not at Chris. How could she? She had no right to jump to her conclusions. She could have just waited for me to get back so I could have at least explained to her about the situation with my phone. She had no right to judge me like that! It wasn't fair and it was vindictive as hell. Especially when she knew exactly what would happen when the cops came to my place and found so much alcohol or any alcohol for that matter.
I cradled my head in my hands.
Maybe, all this time, I had been wrong about her.
Dead wrong.