Class is Now in Session

The Trial

A week or two passed. I was still a bit shaken, but the guys were really helping. I was really looking forward to the trial so that I could put that fuck head Kessler away.
One day, I was sitting on my couch, just plucking away at my bass. Mugsy was sitting on the floor, watching me with an intent expression. He always seems to enjoy hearing me play.
"You sound good."
I looked up and saw Tre standing in the archway of the living room. He was looking better these days. The stitches in his lip had dissolved and he didn't even have a scar. He looked tired, though.
"Thanks," I said, laying my bass down on the floor next to me. I leaned back on the couch and sighed. I felt as tired as Tre looked.
He came over and sat down next to me. I leaned my head against his shoulder. We sat there for a few seconds in silence, just enjoying each other's presence. Billie and Mike were out, picking up McDonald's for everyone's lunch. Suddenly, Tre leaned over and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. I was kind of surprised at this sudden gesture of affection.
"What was that for?" I asked, trying not to sound bitchy.
"Just thought you could use that," he replied, smiling at me.
"Thanks, I think I did need that," I said, giving him a sweet smile.
We sat there in silence for a few more seconds. Then Tre turned and looked at me.
"What is it?" I asked, confused.
"Carrie... I... You... You look really beautiful today," he stammered.
"Oh, thanks," I replied, still slightly confused.
"Listen, I just want you to know, that whatever happens, I will always be there for you," he said, pulling me into a warm hug. "If you ever need me, don't be afraid to ask."
I felt a little teary-eyed at this point. "Thanks, Tre. You just made my day."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said, while still hugging me. I must say, Tre gives some of the best hugs.
Then I heard a car pull into the driveway. I heard a car door opening and shutting, and then footsteps coming up the front walk.
"Sounds like Billie and Mike are back," I said, standing up and moving towards the front door. I was starved. Tre followed suit.
When I had reached the door, instead of it opening, there was a knock. Tre and I exchanged confused looks. Why would Billie and Mike be knocking? I'd given them a key to my house.
I opened up the door and, instead of Billie and Mike standing in front of me, there was a man I'd never seen before.
"Can I help you?" I asked the man.
"Are you Ms. Carolyn Ericson?" he asked.
"Yes, I am," I said, opening the door a little wider.
"Ms. Ericson, I'm Benjamin Harrin," he said, holding out his hand for me to shake. I took it in mine, but I was still confused.
"Is there any particular reason you're here, Mr. Harrin?" I asked cautiously. I wasn't taking any chances.
"Well, I have a friend down at the bureau and he told me about what happened to you," he told me, "And I would just like to say that I'm very sorry about what happened. I'd like to help you find justice."
"You're a lawyer?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"That I am," he replied.
"Well, before I do anything, could I see some identification? Some proof that you really are a lawyer and not another criminal or anything like that?" I asked him, surprised at my own directness.
"Oh, of course, of course," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a business card and his I.D. His card and his I.D. Both confirmed his story, but I wasn't convinced yet.
"Thank you for your offer, Mr. Harrin," I said, handing him his I.D. "Would it be alright if I got back to you on it?"
"Of course. Take your time," he said. "I'll be awaiting your call."
"Thank you, Mr. Harrin," I said, closing the door after he had turned and walked away.
"Wow, that was... Weird," Tre said, raising his eyebrows.
"Yeah, that was weird," I said.
"You gonna call the guy back, do you think?" he asked as we walked back into the living room.
"I'm not sure. I mean, I think that I would be safer if I found one and hired him myself," I said, leaning down and picking Mugsy up. I started to stroke his soft, little head.
"That sounds like a good idea," Tre replied.
Then the door opened. Billie and Mike stumbled over the threshold. They were each carrying two bags of McDonald's and Mike had the drinks. Billie had car keys dangling from his mouth.
"Shit guys, did we really order this much food?" I asked, walking over to Mike and taking a bag from him so that he wouldn't drop anything.
"Apparently we did," Mike said as Tre walked over and grabbed a bag from Billie. Billie removed the keys from his mouth and threw them in the basket sitting on an end table by the door.
"Come on, let's get all this stuff into the kitchen and eat," Billie said, walking towards the kitchen. We all followed.
When we got into the kitchen, we set all the bags down on the table and began unloading them. We then claimed what food was ours and took a seat around the table.
"So, did we miss anything while we were gone?" Mike asked, taking a handful of fries.
"Well, some guy named Benjamin Harrin paid us a visit," I told them. "He says that a friend down at the station told him all about what happened to me. He wanted to take on my case."
"And what did you tell him?" Billie asked, sipping his soda.
"That I'd get back to him, which I probably never will," I said with a smirk. "I think that I should probably find one on my own."
"Smart thinkin'," Billie said, giving me a nod.
"Yeah, after what happened, I'm not taking any chances," I said, shoving a nugget into my mouth.
"You're a lot smarter than you look, Carrie. And you look pretty smart, too," Tre said, swirling a fry in some ketchup.
"Thanks, Tre," I laughed.

That night, I sat in my bedroom, staring at the screen of my laptop. I was looking up good lawyers in my area. So far, I hadn't had much luck. Damn Google.
I sat there for a few more minutes, scrolling through all the results I'd been given. I finally found one that looked good. I clicked the link and read over all the agency's info. They seemed like a pretty respectable agency. From what it said on the website, they had been around for 25 years and had a large pool of clients.
"I think this is the one," I said to myself, taking down the agency's phone number. I book marked the site and closed my laptop. I rubbed my face with my hands and laid back on my bed. I was so drained from everything that had happened. But I didn't have time to dwell on my hardships since somebody knocked on my door.
"Come in," I said, sitting back up.
The door opened and Mike walked in. He came over and sat next to me on my bed.
"Hey Mike," I said, scooting a little closer to him.
"How ya feelin'?" he asked. He had a concerned look on his face.
"Tired," I said with a sigh.
He laughed. "Don't we all?"
I flashed him a small smile. "I suppose."
He smiled and gestured for me to sit next to him. I did so and he pulled me into a welcoming hug.
"These past few weeks must have been a living hell for you," he said.
"Like you wouldn't believe," I said. I was quite content in his arms.
"You're a fighter, you know that?" he said, while planting a kiss on the top of my head. "You always have been, even when we first met you."
"You really think that?" I asked quietly.
"Absolutely."
"Thanks. It's nice to know that someone thinks you're strong, even when you feel so weak," I told him, a tear running down my cheek. He pulled me away and looked at me at arm's length.
"Don't ever feel like you're weak, Carrie. Don't even let that thought cross your mind," he said, staring me straight in the eyes.
"I won't, Mike, I won't," I said, collapsing into his inviting arms.

"Ms. Ericson, we would be happy to take on your case," said Mr. Breakman, the owner of the legal agency I had found the night before, over the phone the next morning.
"I'm so glad to hear that, Mr. Breakman. Thank you," I replied.
"Now, you'll just have to come down to the office and fill out some paperwork and give us any information that is relevant to your case," Mr. Breakman told me.
"No problem. When should I come in?"
"How's next Monday at 3 pm?"
"That sounds fine, sir, thank you," I said, jotting down the date and time on the notepad hanging next to my phone in the kitchen.
"I look forward to seeing you, Ms. Ericson. Have a nice day," Mr. Breakman said.
"You too," I said as I hung up the phone. I took a deep breath and leaned against the counter.
"Well, you're gettin' there, you're gettin' there," I thought to myself. I yawned and walked into the living room where the guys were all sitting around. Billie was on his cell phone, Mike was tuning his bass, and Tre was channel surfing. I went over and sat down in between Billie and Tre.
"Okay Adrienne, I gotta go. Tell the boys I love them. I will. Okay, I love you, too. Bye," Billie said, hanging up his phone.
"How's the family?" I asked.
"They're doin' good. Adrienne says hi and that she's sorry about what happened," he replied. I felt bad for him. He loved Adrienne and the boys so much, but he couldn't be with them all that much.
"You'll have to thank her for me later," I told him. "Is she still okay with you being out here?"
"I think she understands that you need us here," he told me, giving me a weary smile.
"Billie, you don't have to stay away from your family for me," I told him, but he held up a hand to silence me.
"Listen, I don't want to hear it. It's no trouble," he said, pulling me into a hug. When he let me go, I looked over at Tre, who was still flipping through the channels.
"Anything good on?" I asked.
"Not unless you like listening to a fat, bald guy with a big mustache give couples' whose marriages should have ended a long time ago advice on their problems," he said, turning to look at me.
"I think I'll pass on that," I laughed.
I sat there and watched Tre go through ten more channels. Then I whistled for Mugsy. He came running down the hall and into the living room. He skidded to a halt in front of me and jumped up on my lap.
"Hey Mugs, what'cha doin', buddy?" I asked him, while scratching behind his ears. He barked at me and then laid down in my lap. I continued to pet him for a for a few more minutes. He was still pretty young, about four and a half in human years. His coat shined whenever it caught the light. I was glad that I had Mugsy to keep me company when nobody else was around.
"Hey Carrie, do you mind if I take Mugsy out for a walk?" Mike asked, apparently satisfied with the current tuning of his bass.
"By all means, go ahead," I said.
"Thanks. I think I need some fresh air," he said as he walked into the hallway, grabbing Mugsy's leash off of the hook by the door. Mugsy immediately perked up his ears at the sound of his leash. He jumped off my lap and ran over to Mike, who bent down and attached the leash to his collar. Mike opened the door and said, "Don't worry, we won't be gone long," and then left. I sat back on the couch with Billie and Tre. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
"Tired, huh?" Tre asked.
"Yeah," I said simply, still not opening my eyes.
"You want us to leave so you can take a nap?" he asked.
"No, that's okay. You can stay," I told him, lifting my head up a little bit. "I don't think I need a nap. I'm tired mentally, not physically."
"Then just sit here and rest for awhile," Tre' said, putting an arm around me so I could lean on him.
"I'll be back, I need to go have a smoke," Billie said, standing up and walking out the front door.
I closed my eyes and rested my head against Tre's chest. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy.
When I woke up after my nap, I was in my bed. I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I looked at my window. The sun was just starting to set.
"Oh good, you're up."
I looked over to where the voice was coming from. Billie was standing in my door, holding a plate with a slice of pizza on it.
"How did I get up here?" I asked, still slightly drowsy.
"Tre carried you up about a half hour after you fell asleep on him," Billie explained, walking into my room and sitting next to me. He put the plate in my lap.
"Here, you slept through dinner, but we saved you some pizza so you wouldn't starve."
"Thanks," I said, slowly taking a bite of my dinner.
I sat there for a minute, just chewing quietly, when Billie stood up and walked over to my side of the bed.
"Carrie, you're gonna pull through. I know you will," he said with concern etched in his face. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and left the room, leaving me to my dinner.

Monday came pretty quickly. I was a little nervous about the meeting with my lawyer, but I knew it had to be done.
"Ms. Ericson, I want you to tell me everything that happened that day," said my lawyer, Tim McNeil. "I know that it might be hard, but just bear with me."
I told him everything. Everything about how Kessler had moved in on me, about how Billie and Tre had kicked his ass. I explained that the guys were just trying to help me, not just beat the guy up for fun or anything like that. When I was finished, Mr. McNeil looked at me and took a deep breath.
"Well, it certainly sounds like this Kessler guy has a reason to go to jail. And were your friends the only people who witnessed this?" he asked.
"As far as I know," I replied.
"Okay, well then they're going to have to come in here and explain to me what they saw," he told me. "Do you think they would agree to that?"
"Yes, I don't know why they wouldn't."
"Good, good. Well, Ms. Ericson, I believe that that's all I need to know," Mr. McNeil said, standing up from his chair and coming over to me. He shook my hand and said good-bye.
"Oh, and could you just give me a call when your friends are available to come in and talk with me?" he asked before I walked out the door.
"No problem," I replied, leaving the room.
When I returned home after my meeting, I went into the kitchen and looked in the fridge for something to snack on. I hadn't seen or heard the guys yet. I wondered where they could be. I decided to look for them, since I had nothing better to do.
After searching the whole house, I checked out back and, sure enough, there they were. All three of them were just hanging out in my pool. I went over to the edge and sat down.
"Hey Carrie, how was your appointment?" Mike asked, turning to look at me.
"Okay, I guess. But my lawyer gave me a message to deliver to you guys," I replied. I wanted to tell them about going into meet with Mr. McNeil before I forgot.
"And what would it be?" Billie asked.
"He wants you guys, all three of you, to come in so he can ask you questions about what happened," I replied.
"Oh Jesus, this is gonna be interesting," Tre said. "Anyone in the justice system generally just doesn't like me."
"Well, he doesn't even know your past police record, so I wouldn't worry," I told him, messing up his hair. But I did wonder if the guy knew who Green Day was. I'd be surprised if he didn't since they just blew up about a year ago.

I scheduled an appointment for the guys for Tuesday of the following week. I hoped that their input would help my case.
Tuesday came around and before I knew it, I was sitting by myself, watching a re-run of That 70's Show. The guys had all left for their appointment and I was a little anxious. I didn't want anything to happen that could get one or all of us in trouble. I couldn't think of anything that would, but then again, I am dealing with Green Day, and with them, you just never know.
I watched tv for another half hour. Then I heard a car pull into my driveway. To be sure it was them, I looked out my front window. It was them alright.
I opened the door before they got to it. I ran out and asked them how everything went.
"Not bad," Billie said. "Nobody seemed to know who we were, so that was good... I guess."
"Yeah, at least we weren't mobbed with crazy fans asking us if we'd gotten arrested or something," Mike added.
"Well, then that is good," I said, walking back up my front walk. "At least your careers won't be in jeopardy."
"Yeah, then we'd have to live on the streets 'cause nobody would like us anymore," Tre said, following me to the front door.
I laughed. "Don't worry, you guys could all move in with me."
"Yay!" Tre yelled, hugging me tightly.
"Okay, okay, calm down. You're not homeless yet," I said, playfully pushing him off. "Now, how about we go and see if there's anything to eat?"
"Hell yes!" Tre yelled, running past me and running into the house. He closed the door behind him. When I tried opening it, I found out that he had locked it.
"Tre! Tre, let us in!" I yelled. He opened the curtain on my door and made a face at me. He let me yell at him to open the door for another five minutes. Then he unlocked the door. When I walked past him, I gave him a punch on the arm.
Ow! That's my masturbation arm!" he yelled.
"Then use the other one," I replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking into the kitchen.

Another week passed. A court date had been set for the Ericson vs. Kessler case, as I like to call it. I was getting really nervous. I hadn't seen Kessler since... That day. I didn't know if I was ready to be in the same room with him again.

The day of the trial came and I soon found myself being questioned by my lawyer and Kessler's lawyer. I tried not to act as scared as I really was. I also tried not to look at Kessler. He didn't look as spiffy in an orange jumpsuit. His hair looked greasy and he had dark circles under his eyes. He generally scared the crap out of me.
The guys were there with me, since they had to testify, too. They seemed a lot more confident than I was. I was happy to see that they didn't waver the entire time they were being questioned.
The end of the trial soon came and I waited with baited breath as the jury deliberated. They soon announce that Kessler was guilty on all charges and the judge ruled that he would have to spend 5-10 years in jail. I wanted to jump and scream with joy, but I contained myself. I settled for a hug from my lawyer and a big smile for the guys. They smiled back just as happily.

"Mr. McNeil, I just want to thank you for everything that you've done for me," I said, shaking my lawyer's hand outside the courthouse.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Ms. Ericson, it's my job," he replied. "If you ever need help again, you can always give me a call."
"Thank you, Mr. McNeil."
"I'll see you around, Ms. Ericson." And with that, he walked off in the direction of his car. I had to be one of the happiest people on the planet.
"So, how about we go out and celebrate?" Mike asked, throwing his arm around my shoulder and steering me in the direction of my car.
"Sounds good, let's go," I said, throwing my arm around Tre's shoulder, who did the same with Billie. We must have looked like some of the dumbest people, trying to walk together while laughing and talking really loud. But I didn't care. All that mattered was going out and having a good time with my friends.

The guys took me out to the Club Diner and then to a local punk club that they had recently come across. It was called Mosh. It really looked like a genuine punk club, both inside and out. I hadn't been to one in years, but I still remembered what it was like. The raw energy, the raunchy music, the crazy mosh pits, it was all so familiar.
Mike and I headed for the mosh pit and Billie and Tre headed for the bar since it'd been awhile since they'd had any alcohol. I just hoped that they wouldn't get too drunk. I didn't feel like having to deal with any hangovers the next day.
Mike and I made our way to the very front so that we could get a clear view of the band. They were pretty good, considering they only looked to be about 17 or 18. Their band was called Inner Rage. They reminded me of early Green Day. Mike and I started moshing a little. It was fun to be back in a pit again.
Soon, Billie and Tre made their way through the crowd and started moshing with us. Tre actually jumped on stage and crowd-surfed for a while. Everyone started yelling and screaming even louder when he jumped off the stage. Billie, Mike, and I just laughed and tried to follow him. It was pretty damn hard since there were so many sweaty people surrounding us.
When Tre was finally done with his crowd-surfing, we all headed over to the bar and got a drink. I only had one since I was planning on driving. Mike was being pretty rational with his drinking, too. Billie and Tre were practically pouring alcohol down their throats. "Oh Jesus," I thought as I watched them slosh beer down the front of their shirts.
After I'd finished my drink, I headed back out to the pit and watched Inner Rage play a couple more songs before Mike pushed his way through the crowds of people to find me. He told me that Billie and Tre were starting to get a little too drunk and that we should leave so that they don't scare anybody.
"Okay, good idea," I yelled as we shoved our way out of the sea of people. "I don't feel like going to court again anytime soon."
"Me neither," Mike yelled back, smiling.

After we'd managed to get Billie and Tre out to my car, I told Mike that I would drive so that he could make sure that the two of them didn't puke in my car or anything.
We made it home without any stomach contents being emptied into my backseat, thank God. I didn't want to clean up anybody's puke, especially if it was in my car. I was never very good around vomit. It's one of the worst things in my book.
Getting a drunk Billie and Tre into my house proved to be a challenge. They were very loud and were having some trouble walking in a straight line, and just standing up straight, for that matter. But somehow, Mike and I managed to get them through the front door.
"Shhh, Tre, you have to be quiet," I said, struggling to keep him upright. "People are trying to sleep."
"Aw, screw them, sleep is for losers!" Tre' slurred as he tried to keep from falling over.
"But you still have to be quiet," I replied. "Now come on, you should lie down."
"Hey Mike, guess what?" Billie asked with a dopey smile on his face. "You have three heads."
"That's great, Billie. Come on, let's go into the living room," Mike said, trying to maneuver Billie into the next room. We managed to get Billie onto the love seat and Tre on the couch. Billie pretty much passed out as soon as he hit the couch, but Tre wouldn't go down that easily.
"Carrie, can I have a hug?" he asked, holding out his arms. His eyes looked like they were slipping in and out of focus.
"Will you be quiet if I do?" I asked.
"Sure, gimme a hug," he said, still holding out his arms. I walked over and gave him a hug.
"You give good hugs, ya know that?" he asked, slightly slurring his words.
"Thank you, Tre," I answered. I looked over at Billie. He was out cold. Mike walked over to me and gave me a hug.
"I'm going to bed, Carrie. Congrats on winning the case. I told you you were strong."
"Thanks Mike. Good night," I replied, smiling to myself.
"Carrie, can you sit with me?" Tre' asked, his eyes still looking unfocused.
"Sure, scootch over," I said, sitting down next to him.
"You look pretty," Tre' said, moving a piece of hair out of my face after I'd sat down.
"Thanks, it's nice to hear that," I answered giving him a sweet smile.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes in a very girly way.
I laughed at him. "Yes, you look very pretty."
"Aw, thanks," he replied, pulling me into another hug. Tre sure liked hugs tonight.
We sat there for another couple of minutes. Tre passed out eventually, banging his head on my shoulder blade in the process. I got up carefully and left him there. As I walked up to my bedroom, I realized what I'd have to deal with the next morning.

Just as I'd expected, my house was Hangover City the next day. Billie and Tre both woke up with splitting headaches. I served them breakfast in the living room.
"Sorry we got drunk," Tre' apologized, nibbling on some toast.
"Well, I'm just happy you didn't puke on my furniture or in my car," I told them, taking away Billie's empty plate.
"Actually, I think I puked in your toilet last night," Billie said.
"Didn't need to know that, but thank you for choosing the toilet over everything else," I replied.

After breakfast, I was going through my medicine cabinet, looking for Tylenol. Billie and Tre's headaches were really killing them, so I decided to try and dull the pain. As I was digging through the loaded cabinet, the phone rang.
"Hello?" I said, picking up the phone.
"Ms. Ericson? It's Tim McNeil," said the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Oh, hi Mr. McNeil. How are you?" I asked. I was a little surprised and confused.
"Oh, I'm fine, just fine. I was just calling to check up on you. Making sure you're okay, you know?" he said.
"Well, I'm fine, thanks," I answered, still slightly surprised.
"Oh, okay, good to know that. Well... Uh... I guess I'll see ya around," he replied. He sounded a little nervous.
"Okay, have a nice day," I told him.
"You too," he said, and I heard his phone click off. I clicked mine off. That was certainly unusual.
"Who was on the phone?" Mike asked, walking into the kitchen.
"My lawyer, Mr. McNeil," I said, placing the phone back on its charger.
"What'd he want?" he asked, pouring himself some coffee.
"He said he just wanted to check up on me."
"That's weird. I didn't think lawyers usually called to check up on their clients," Mike said, digging some milk out of the fridge.
"I didn't think so, either."
"Maybe he likes you?" Mike teased, tossing the cap of the milk carton onto the counter and pouring a little into his steaming mug.
"Yeah, right," I replied, going back to searching for the Tylenol.
"You never know," Mike said as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me to my searching and my jumbled thoughts.