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Only one defendant is sitting at the table today, and I can hear that fact ripple through the jury as we wait for the judge to arrive. When she does, we all rise, then sit after the judge takes her seat behind the bench. She tells us that the other defendant has taken a plea deal, but that should in no way influence our thoughts or opinions about the guilt or innocence of the remaining defendant.
“Many factors weigh in the decision an individual makes once a trial is underway, but your job, as always, is to weigh the evidence presented in this courtroom and come to a verdict based only on that evidence,” she says.
And then we’re underway. The attorneys make their opening statements, and the prosecution calls its first witness: the police officer who stopped and subsequently arrested the defendant.
Honestly, after the first hour, I start to feel restless. I take notes on the testimony of the witnesses, star items I think might be important to talk about during our deliberations and make sidebar notes to myself about questions I have, but I’m also constantly aware of Tyler’s movements next to me. At one point, I glance at his notes, and they are amazing. His writing is precise and perfectly legible, and the margins on his page are crowded with drawings of everything from the people in the courtroom to the flags behind the judge to studies of the stenographer’s fingers poised above his keyboard as he takes down the record of everything everyone says.
It makes sense. He’s a graphic designer and creates webcomics. Marney and I looked Tyler up over the weekend, and he’s really good. His storylines are great, and his illustrations are fantastic. Even though I’m not a huge fan of some of his genres, I got sucked into reading a couple of them, and I’ll probably contribute to his Patreon so I can see more of his work.
We have a short break at half past eleven, and I check my phone to see several texts from Marney asking if I’ve talked to Tyler yet. I shake my head at my friend, and text back that I haven’t had a chance yet, but he bought me a new travel mug. Marney sends back a string of heart-eyed emojis.
When court reconvenes, we’re in for some really boring technical testimony about breathalyzer scores and the defense’s cross-examination about its accuracy. About the fifth time the attorney asks basically the same question, I have this sudden and almost insuppressible urge to yell out that the witness’s answer is “No” just like it’s been the previous four times. I constrain myself, but barely. It’s a weird reaction and totally unlike me, but looking at my fellow jurors, I’m pretty convinced that several of them are having the same reaction.
A few minutes later, Tyler rocks back on his chair and it creaks. He freezes, then does it again. And then again. He’s playing with the sound, and I cast a glance at him. When he catches my eye, he grins, and does it once more before settling back into a more respectable pose that displays his absolute focus and interest in what’s being said. I’d almost believe it, except for the shadow of a grin lurking in the corner of his mouth, and the way his gaze keeps darting to the side to look at me. I give a soft snort and shake my head slightly, and Tyler rocks his chair back to make it creak again. Just once, but it’s enough for me to know it was for me.
The judge doesn’t break for lunch until one. I’m about to turn to Tyler and ask him to go with me, when one of the morning group suggests we all go down to the cafeteria together. With the exception of two people who have something to do for work, we troop downstairs where the choices are limited to burgers or premade sandwiches. “Uninspiring” doesn’t begin to describe it, but our choices are limited here, so I opt for a turkey sandwich.
We slide a couple of tables together, and who sits where is largely determined by who gets their food when. Unfortunately, I don’t end up sitting next to Tyler, a fact that bums me out so much I largely disengage from the discussion at my end of the table. I end up texting Marney and playing on my phone while I pick at my sandwich and chips. I’m so distracted that I forget to get a refill of coffee, and by the time I remember, it’s too late to do anything but return to the courtroom.
Tyler
Holy fuck! No, I mean HOLY fucking fuck. I think Cameron is into me. I can’t get the way he knew my name and remembered things about me out of my head. And the way he kept looking at me over lunch. Sure, it’d be creepy as fuck if I wasn’t into him, but I am. I so totally am, and, truth be told, I pretty much memorized everything he said during his voir dire as well. Maybe it was a good thing that I ran into him, and I could almost believe that it’s fate we not only ended up on the same jury but sitting next to each other. It definitely made the first day of the trial more interesting than I’d expected. And when court ended for the day and Cameron said he'd see me again tomorrow and winked? Too much. I think my brain almost exploded.
Now, I’m grabbing after-work drinks with half a dozen of my friends at our favorite spot in North Beach, but I’m barely paying any attention to them because my brain is completely taken up with analyzing everything Cameron has said to me, every look he’s given me, everything I’ve seen or observed about him. Plus, I also completely cyber stalked him over the weekend and spent a couple of hours scrolling through his Insta account. I even went on Facebook because the dude still uses it.
“Hey, Ty.” My best friend, Dan, nudges me. “You with us?”
I shake my head and pick up my drink. “Sorry. Preoccupied.”“I know that look,” Avyaan says. “You met someone.” When I can’t hide the grin that crosses my face, he chortles. “I knew it. Spill.”
“There’s not anything to spill,” I say.
“Uh uh.” This time it’s Li Min who shakes her head. “You’ve already got that look in your eyes. You’re a goner. We need details, since none of us have anything going on.”
There’s a chorus of “true that” from everyone around the table, including Nick, who hasn’t been without a girlfriend or boyfriend since he turned sixteen. That news gets everyone’s attention, and I’m happy their focus turns to someone else as Nick gets pelted with questions about his latest breakup. My relief is short-lived because Nick doesn’t have a lot of juicy details. The relationship ran its course, and they decided it was time to let go. End of story.
“Sorry, there’s not more to tell you guys,” he says.
Avyaan pats his shoulder, then looks around the table. “Five bucks Nick’s got a date before next Monday.”
Everyone laughs, but Dan and Min take the bet, then turn their attention back to me.
There are times when I absolutely hate that my friends know me so well, but I guess that’s what happens when you’ve known people since you were five. And knowing them equally as well, I know I’m not getting out of this until I give them what they want. I tell them about running into Cameron and sending his mug into orbit, about getting seated on the jury, and that Cameron is sitting right next to me.
“And…” Nick prompts.
“And…I might have gotten him a new travel mug and filled it with coffee from Java Beach so he wouldn’t have to start his day with that disgusting stuff they serve in the courthouse.”
My friends laugh, and Dan nudges me with his shoulder again.
“Are you going to ask him out?” Avyaan asks.
“May…be.” I duck my head and look away.
“Oh, that’s a yes.”
“Okay. Probably. But I don’t think I can until after the trial is over.”
“Why not?” That comes from several of them at once.
