Jaded

My eyes widened and I looked up at Mr. Lane in disbelief. My head instantly began shaking back in forth indicating this was news to me.

“No this isn’t what it looks like. It’s not mine. I swear.”

“Of course it isn’t,” he said sarcastically. “Apparently what I told you yesterday had no effect, but I have no other choice, but to turn you into the authorities,”

Suddenly two cops came out of no where. One took out hand cuffs and ordered me to put my hands behind my back.

“You are under arrest for possession of illegal narcotics and marijuana,” said one cop putting my hands behind my back.

They said that whole spule of “I have the right to remain silent.” as the one cop tightened the cuffs.

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I mean how did this happen? Sarah and I walked out together she didn’t put it in my bag, plus I know she wouldn’t do that to me. I walked silently suddenly beginning a fascination with my shoes.

The gym doors opened and every body with a head attached to their body turned towards me staring. I forgot I was going to have to walk through the gym. Even the presenters stopped with their speeches. I found Sarah in the crowd and I saw her jaw drop. I found Mike and he did the exact same thing. Even worse was I saw Nick in the crowd and his expression was pretty similar.

I swear to god it felt like crossing that gym floor was an eternity and as Johnny Cash said "I walk the line" . I heard people begin to whisper, people that I didn’t even know knew I existed. I could feel everyone’s eyes just stabbing into me like knives. I tried to look apathetic, but on the inside I was tweaking out.

A felt a bit of relief as we got into the hallway.

“I always knew something like this was going to happen with you. It’s a shame that you couldn’t have learned otherwise,” said Mr. Lane shaking his head as if he actually gave a shit. I could see past him, on the inside he felt satisfaction.

Anyone seen walking in the halls focused their attention. Billie Joe happened to be one of those lucky one’s to witness my arrest. He mouthed to me

“What the fuck did you do?” only to have Mr. Lane say “Beat it Armstrong”

They brought me into the office where they said they were going to have to search me for anything else I may have. The police were such gems to when they asked me take off my necklace only to have them throw into a bag to get tangled into knots. I never wear jewelry except for that, because my dad gave it to me when I was younger. After having my clothes, shoes, socks, pockets, and body searched it was time for interrogation. Can you imagine the fun?

“I’m going to give you one chance Sam. Who sold you the drugs?” asked Mr. Lane folding his hands leaning down to my level getting inches away from my face talking to me how you talk to someone with ESE.

“Mr. Lane I swear it isn’t mine. I didn’t buy it. I don’t do drugs.” I I I don’t know someone must have put it in my bag,” I said looking around at the administration and local authorities that filled the room.

“Alright then if they ‘aren’t yours’,” he said using his finger as quotation marks with an eye roll filled with doubts that I was actually telling the truth “Then who’s are they?” he asked returning to speak with my ESE self.

Ah shit. For a moment I weighed my choices in my mind. Either I tell him that its Sarah’s and have her get in trouble, or I take the heat for it and have god knows what happen to me. There was a bumpy stretch of awkwardness, during which all that could be heard was students switching classes.

I bit my bottom lip and looked around at the diplomas on the wall.

“I don’t know where it came from,” I let out knowing this wasn’t going to be of any aid to the situation.

“Your lying. Why won’t this girl cooperate? Why does she feel the need to make such stupid decisions!” he yelled throwing a pad of paper across his desk in utter frustration. Why? I thought. Why do you feel the need to impersonate John Lennon with that pathetic mustache and glasses, and your Yoko Ono wannabe of a wife? There are some questions that have no answers.

I’m sure John Lennon was just thrilled with that comparison...

“Give me a drug test give me anything!” I yelled trying to plea my innocence.

Suddenly someone came through the door. My whole body went numb at the sight of my mom. Remember last night when I said she had a look to kill? She had a look to plot a gruesome murder, a long tortured murder. If was at all possible to hit the roof in utter frustration and condensation she would.

“Maybe we will, but it still won’t prove anything. How do we know you aren’t a drug dealer? Maybe this was your first time doing drugs. Maybe you haven’t done drugs in a while, so the test will come out positive!” he yelled waving his hands in the air.

“If I did do drugs wouldn’t you think I would do it outside of school? Would you really think I would be dumb enough to bring it to school? I mean come on think about it,” I said in cocky tone.

“Take her away! I’m wasting my time. I don’t need a snot nosed teenager to back talk me,” he snarled.

“Sir, you have to believe me I-,” I began in more respectable tone but the police officer cut me off.

“Let’s go!”

It was no use he wasn’t going to believe me, so what’s the use?

“I hope your happy Samantha. Because of your idiot choices you are expelled and have a police record. It’s such a pity,”

I wanted nothing more then to jump across his desk and punch his fucking face in, but with handcuffs on that would be a bit of a struggle. I didn’t even look at my mom at all since she had gotten here, to be honest I didn’t really want too.

As we approached the door to “go downtown” as they say in classic movies someone else busted through the door. To my relief it was Sarah.

“Sir, the drugs are mine!” she yelled catching her breath as if she ran all the way down to the office.

I took a breath and a smile could be seen on my face. I was going to get off the hook.

“Then why were they in Samantha’s bag?”

“I don’t know, but they’re mine I bought them from someone today,” she said.

“Give me the name of who you bought it from,” Mr. Lane said grabbing the pad of paper he had just tossed moments prior to now.

The same expression I had when I got asked exact question came on Sarah’s face.

“I’m not a rat...” Sarah said closing her eyes realizing how unbelievable she sounded.

“I think your just covering for Rollins,”

“I’m not it’s the truth!”

“I don’t belie-,” said Mr. Lane until good ol’ Mr. Robins cut him off “Bill I think we should give her a chance to prove this,”

I have to remember to thank that man one day, when I’m not you know hand cuffed.

"Ms.Rollins due you think Samantha is doing drugs?" asked Mr. Lane turning his attention along with everyone else on to her.

"I think she is," my mom said nodding her head.

"What? I told you it's not mine! Why don't you believe me I'm your own daughter!"

"Because I'm familiar with your work," she snarled.

"Ms.Rollins I swear Samantha is telling the truth," said Sarah. My mom just looked at her as if she knew nothing about me. Although, Sarah probably does know me better then my own mother.

Mr. Lane sat there caressing his rip off of a brown mustache at the corners of his mouth with his thumb and index finger, as if he was trying to stretch it further to get that extra droop that could be used for the good of man kind and drive the women wild. Maybe that worked in the seventies buddy, but it’s almost the nineties now.

“Hm. Take her into the other room and question her,” ordered Mr. Lane pointing to the room next store “Take Rollins to the station for the drug test, until we can get this sorted out,”

The police officer turned to my mom “Ma’am if you meet us down at the station after we order the drug test you have to sign some papers and take her home,”

“Let her sit in jail for a while. I have to get back to work,” My mom said adjusting her purse on her shoulder. My eyes widened as I finally turned to face her.

“You deserve it,” she snarled as she turned on her heal and walked out the door.

"Well, I'm goin' to a place where the tough guys go
and come out even tougher.
A place where a man don't show his feelings,
A place where a man don't cry.
Well they say I'm being punished
And they say I can be reformed
But some day I'll return"