Juilliard or Else (42 page)

When the cops surrounded our little group, they hauled Jade and I off Rachel's body. Jade clung to me for life as we both watched our friend being lifted onto a gurney and into an ambulance. Jade's tears didn't stop soaking my neck as I tried to soothe her. One cop came up to us, asking questions to which we didn't know the answers. Rachel was gone, just like that, gone. Tucker was behind Jade, trying to pull her away from me, but she held on.

He whispered in her ear, "Jade, Jett wants you," He tried again to pull on her, finally getting her to let go of my jacket and she went into Jett's arms.

Tucker held me, as the police continued to ask questions. I stared at the ground where a dark spot was at, knowing that's where Rachel died. Jett leaned on the side of the building across from us, holding Jade close. She looked like she was asleep, but I think she was trying to tone out all the conversations and chaos around us. When we first met, Rachel acted as a protector to Jade, telling me she was her sister. I couldn't imagine what Jade was going through right now.

Another cop car pulled up to us with a mean looking cop glaring at Tucker. "Shit," Tucker whispered in a voice that only I heard. The cop made his way over to us. "Tucker, I told you, if I had to deal with your shit again, I'm taking you in. Let the girl go," he commanded. I went stiff.

Take him? No.

The officer's hands were on Tucker's arms, trying to pry him from me, but I wasn't going, "No," I cried, trying to stay in Tucker's arms – trying to wrap his arms back around me. I finally had him back and now they were taking him.

Another cop came up to help, pulling me off Tucker. I watched as other cop turned Tucker around to slam him into the brick building and handcuff him. The cop digging in Tucker's front pockets pulled out numerous clear plastic baggies. I noticed some had white stuff while others had a darker looking green. I looked over at Jett who stood there watching as well.

"Jett, do something," I pleaded.

Jett shook his head and placed his face down by Jade's. I struggled against the cop as they started walking Tucker to the patrol car. They weren't going to take him; this wasn't his fault. Feeling my rage ready to boil over, like a pot of scolding hot water on the stove, I stomped as hard as I could on the cop's toes and heaved him off me. I ran like hell as soon as his arms let me go. I made it to Tucker before they pushed him in the backseat. I wrapped my arms around his neck to breathe in the scent on his neck.

"I love you, Gabs."

I wanted to tell him that I loved him, too, more than ever, but other words slipped from my lips instead, "I'm pregnant."

His body went taut and he pulled back to look in my eyes. The cop holding Tucker tried to push me out of the way as he tried again to put Tucker in the backseat.

"What?" he whispered, trying everything in his power to not get over powered by the cop.

I nodded at him with my head down so he couldn't see my tears as they fell. I kept repeating in my head.
Please don't be mad. Please don't be mad.

The cop tried again and Tucker growled out, "Dude! Chill out, Daniels, okay?"

The cop stopped and Tucker kissed me. "You're sure?" I nodded again as I stared into his gaze.

"Found out yesterday." I shrugged and tried to give him a smile, but couldn't. "I took a test with Jade. It was positive."

The other cop who held me came up and grabbed me firmly on my shoulder.
"Come on, miss. I'm taking you in on assault on a police officer."

"What?!" Tucker and I yelled at the same time.

The officer holding Tucker starting telling him his rights, and I heard, "Kyle Tucker, you're under arrest for drug paraphernalia."

The other officer grabbed my arms and jerked them behind me, slapping handcuffs around my wrists. Tucker fought against the other cop, but he over powered him and shoved him inside the cop car, then slammed the door. I was being dragged away to another car while Jade was screaming and trying to follow, but Jett held her back. Instead of fighting, I went willingly in the cop car. I watched as Jade cried out for me as the car pulled away from her.

The trip to the station was nerve racking, I never pictured myself being arrested for insulting an officer. The first thought I had was to call my dad as soon as I got there, to help me, but what about Tucker? Would he help him or blame him?

Pulling into the police station, they didn't run my fingers through the black ink to get my finger prints on file. They walked me through the police station, but in the crowd ahead of me, I saw Tucker being manhandled by Officer Daniels. He pretty much tossed Tucker around like a rag doll, then finally shoved him in a seat and handcuffed him to a desk.

I was walked over to a wooden bench in a little hallway across the room. This place smelled awful, like a gross, sweaty gym, that hadn't been cleaned in a long time. A female cop uncuffed my hands, but cuffed my left hand to a side rail, not saying one word to me, then left.

My eyes frantically searched for Tucker sitting at the desk. I started to get a little nervous being here by myself. I never saw myself being arrested and in a police station. I looked at all the faces in the little room. Cops were talking to different people at every desk as the back door that Tucker and I came through burst open with about five cops and one rambunctious bald guy.

Wait.

That was the guy, the one who held me hostage. The guy who stabbed Rachel, that was the guy. I stood up fast to get away from him, but the chain of the cuffs dug into my skin. I winced at the sharp pain, making me sit back down. I was annoyed that I couldn't rub it better. When I looked back up at the passing group, the bald guy was staring at me while smiling. That bastard was smiling at me for killing my friend. I wanted everything in my power to go up to him and smack that dirty ass smile off his rotten face. But when the group passed, my eyes were directed straight to Tucker's across the room; his face was pale, he looked sick as he dropped his head down. I wanted to go up to him and just hug him.

"Abigail." I flinched at the sound of my father's voice. I didn't even hear his approaching steps as I sat cuffed to a bench. I was afraid to look up. I kept my eyes down cast and stared into his shiny black dress shoes. My eyes started to sting, my bottom lip started to quiver and I bit down, trying hard to make it stop.

"Abigail," my dad whispered, and I knew he was waiting for me to make eye contact with him. I couldn't. All I could do was stare down at his perfectly shined shoes, that looked brand new and straight out of the box. I sniffed and that unleashed my tears; they fell freely from my face. I knew my dad was so upset with me right now, finding me here where he put criminals to justice, this place that I didn't belong in; I felt like such a failure at this very moment.

He placed his fingers under my chin to tip my face up, but meeting his warm brown eyes only brought on more sadness to me. Wearing his glasses, I could see the hurt I'd put him through right now as I stared into his brown disappointing eyes.

He snapped his fingers and pointed to my one cuffed hand. "Joe, would you please?" A little round fat cop, that clearly sat at a desk, walked up to uncuffed me. My dad held his hand out and I took it. We walked down a short hallway. Turning quickly to see if Tucker was still at the desk, we rounded a corner, but all I saw was cream paint.

My dad took me into a darkened room with one window. Two other cops were in there as well.

"Ah, David, you brought our witness," one cop said as we stood next them. They both smelled of strong coffee in their pressed uniforms. Coffee always reminded me of Jade; I wondered if she was alright, I would rather be with her right now.

"This is my daughter, Abigail." His hands cupped my shoulders. Both men looked at me and nodded.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

One officer hit a button with a loud buzzing sound and a door opening. Gazing around the room from the window, it was just like something off a movie; I was the person who stood on the opposite side of the mirror, invisible to the people on the other side. Bald men started entering the room, one by one, lining up in a straight line, all holding number signs. My stomach dropped at the very last guy, number six, the one from the alleyway, who hit my friend in the stomach with his stupid knife that had been pressed against my throat.

"Abigail, who stabbed Rachel Dawson tonight? Just say a number," one officer stated. My dad's hands still held onto my shoulders, slowly rubbing them.

"Number six." I raised my hand and pointed to the one bald guy who I would never forget – his face would always be burned into my brain. He would always be the man who killed Rachel.

"Very good. You may go now, David."

We left the little room and my dad held my hand as we walked down another hallway. The cream colored walls were lifeless with no pictures. Yelling from rooms made me flinch back into my dad's side. We passed the little room with the desks, glancing around rather quickly to see if Tucker was still there, but no one was sitting at any desks.

We entered a smaller room than the one before. I sat on one side of the little table while my dad sat on the other, propping his foot on his knee, relaxing into the seat as he examined a yellow file. Once in a while, he would rub his chin as if deep in thought. I looked around the small dark room with one light and no secret window. The silence was killing me; my dad had never been this quiet before. I sat on my fingers and let my feet sway underneath the chair, barely touching the ground. My dad cleared his throat and I looked back at him, meeting his stare.

"Abigail," he started and cleared his throat. "Do you know that Rachel died tonight?"

I dropped my head. I already knew, but I didn't want to even say it out loud.

"Look at me," he said and I slowly brought my head back up. "Do you know that Rachel died tonight?" he asked me again and I nodded in shame.

"Do you know this man?" He slid a picture of the bald guy towards me, but I shook my head.

"This is Spencer Harvey, also known as Skinner. Boyfriend of Tori Tucker. They are both drug addicts. Spencer was arrested two months ago for drug battery, assault, and robbery."

He took the picture back and put it in the folder. He flipped more papers and slid another picture towards me.

"Do you know this person?" Looking up to see a picture of Brad holding a little sign under his face—his own mug shot.

"Yes," I quietly answered

He cleared his throat again, "Tell me who he is."

I tapped the photo with my finger. "That's Brad. We've hung out with him a couple of times."

"With who?" He asked as he took the picture back and placed in the right spot where he got it from and turned more pages.

I shifted uncomfortably, "Rachel, Jade, Jett and Tucker."

"Ah, Tucker. You mean this boy?"

He slid a picture of Tucker across the table. It felt like he was moving in a slow wave and Tucker's still photo face stopped before my eyes. I rubbed my head; Tucker had been arrested before.

He lied to me, he
lied
.

My heart felt like it was just ripped out of my chest, stomped on, put through a shredder bin and taped back together, right after a dog peed on it. That was the best way I could describe my heart right now. I choked on a sob that got caught in my throat. My dad took the picture back and started talking to me, as if he didn't care that I was crying.

"Kyle Tucker. Twenty-five, arrested on the charges of: drug paraphernalia, robbery, resisting arrest, charged with trespassing, charged with giving a false name to a police officer, driving with a suspended license, charged with driving under the influence
with
a suspended license. Abigail, the list goes on, is this really the boy you wish to continue seeing?" He set the folder down and took off his glasses to rub his nose — something he's always done when he's frustrated.

I was in full on shaking sobs by this point. I rested my head on my arms on the table and sobbed. I bawled for many reasons at this moment; I cried for the Tucker my dad was telling me about, the Tucker I didn't know anything about. He lied to me about getting arrested; he told me he'd never been to jail for anything that night we played twenty questions on my balcony.

"Abigail, this is not the type of crowd you want to hang around with. His crowd is dangerous. Look what happened to Rachel tonight. What if that happened to you?"