Chapter Twenty-One

Maggie

I’ve never been arrested before. Never.

All night long, I’ve been sitting in this freezing cold cell, waiting for Wes and Jane. Calling them at one in the morning had to be one of the most mortifying experiences of my life. Aside from my mother, I’ve never had anyone care for me as they have. Trig’s done a lot for me too, if I’m honest with myself, but calling him was completely out of the question.

Last night I went out with Kyle and one of his friends. Kyle guilt-tripped me into taking them out, saying there were some amazing parties the first weekend of Spring Break and we needed to go. I didn’t really want to hang with high school kids. I tried telling Kyle.

So, his dipshit friend wants to go to a liquor store, says he’s legal. He wasn’t. His fake ID gets spotted right away, even before we go to the cash register. Then Einstein gets the brilliant idea to slip a bottle of vodka in my purse. I never noticed. The plainclothes policeman did. I got arrested. Kyle and his friend didn’t.

And here I am, in the clink for Minor in Possession and Shoplifting.

While I paced my small cell last night I kept thinking how this would affect my scholarship. Would I be innocent till proven guilty? What about video surveillance? Did they have film, showing I didn’t put the bottle in my purse.

I just want to get out of here. The cell is about sixty degrees and I’m in a thin blouse and skirt. Throughout the night, as the hours passed, I imagined the worst. I pictured scenarios where the Kendals decide I was too much trouble and they’d let the state deal with me. Loneliness that I hadn’t felt in a long time wrapped around me like an icy shroud.

They’d have that extra room to turn into a game room.

Footsteps approach and a policewoman unlocks the door. “All right, Miss Callaghan. Your family’s posting bail.”

“Bail?”

She doesn’t elaborate. I follow her out and into the police station. Trig and Wes wait for me, standing at the counter. I can hardly look either of them in the eye.

The policeman on the other side of the counter explains that I’ll be summoned to appear in court. I can expect a certified letter. The judge will tell me what charges, if any, will be pressed. The judge will also make a ruling about my immigration status.

“Immigration status? But…I have a green card.”

The officer shrugs. “For now.”

Everybody watches me, or that’s what it feels like. Trig moves closer. He sets his hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you, officer,” he says.

The next thing I know, I’m whisked out of the police station. Trig keeps his hand on me, guiding me across the street to his truck. Dazed and bewildered, I huddle in the back seat and replay the policeman’s words. Trig drapes his jacket over me.

We drive home in silence. Wes says nothing but Trig, driving the truck, glances back to me, his eyes searching mine. I can’t stand how Wes won’t give me a word of encouragement, but what’s worse is the sympathy in Trig’s eyes. I don’t want him to try and console me. It’s like both of them assume I’m guilty.

When we get home, Jane meets me at the door. Her eyes are bloodshot.

“I didn’t tell the boys.”

“Great. Thanks.” There’s some consolation. I mostly worry about Michael finding out I was incarcerated. He seems to think I’m capable and smart and maybe even sort of awesome. I really hate to disappoint him.

Without another word, I go to the bathroom, strip the clothes I’ve worn since the evening before and step into the shower. The hot water scalds my skin. My intention was to rinse away the way the jail cell made me feel. Dirty. Unwanted. Shameful.

After a long while, the hot water starts to cool because I’ve been in the shower so long, I’ve used up all the hot water. I step out, dry off and slather cream over my skin. Gwen brought me a jar of Grapefruit Infused Hydration. I’d held off opening it, but something about spending the night in jail makes girly things feel that much more wonderful. When I’m done, I wrap a robe around myself.

I open the door and almost faint to see Trig standing in the doorway. He grips the door frame above me and the stance makes him look huge. He lets his gaze drift down and the corner of his mouth quirks.

“The aquifer called,” he says. “It wants you to quit being a baby and get the fuck out of the shower.”

He’s deliberately giving me shit. It helps. So much. Right now, I don’t want a lecture or some pep talk. I’m not sure what I want, but I don’t want Wes or Jane’s over the top optimism. I just need this. I step closer and rest my forehead against his chest. A rumble rolls across his chest as he gathers me in his arms. My mind goes back to the night when he pulled me to the bed and wrapped his arms around me.

“All night, I worried about losing my scholarship,” I whisper.

“I have money.”

His voice rumbles in his chest. Closing my eyes, I push away the waves of shame and helplessness.

“You keep bailing me out. Literally.”

He strokes my back. Normally I hate sympathy, but not now. I lap up anything he offers even if I’ll hate myself later.

“It’s just money. I don’t care about it. If I could have taken your place last night, I would have.”

Well, isn’t that romantic.

He goes on. “I want what you want and if you like school, then I’m going to do what I can to make it happen for you. I’ll pay your tuition. For you, I’ll always do whatever it takes.”

A lump sticks in my throat and I try to swallow it down. I wish he’d go back to teasing me or giving me hell for something. The gruff tenderness in his voice is too much. I revel in his arms. I want to stay there forever. It takes a few moments for me to be able to say anything.

“I might not even be able to stay in this country, Trig. They can kick me out if they want. And if they think I’m trouble-”

“Stop.” He tightens his arms around me. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Me, Wes and Jane. We’re your family, right?”

I can’t stop shivering even though the heat from his body warms me. If anything, I’m shivering more. Silently, I plea for him not to let me go. He’s all I want. My life is a mess, but he’s all I want, because I’m an expert at wanting things I can never have. It’s my superpower.