Page 122 of Saints & Sailors

A lump formed in my throat and I felt a roll of sweat trail down my back.

Nervous, I stood up and swallowed. Rick was waiting for me at the door.

Out in the hall a German Shepherd was sniffing at a blue locker. Two others were sitting and watching behind it.

As I followed Rick to the commotion, dread settled in my stomach. It was my locker.

“This locker belong to you?” Rick asked as he hung back, eyeing me down with an empty look. His hands gripped his utility belt and he seemed so much bigger now considering the situation.

Quietly, I nodded, eyes locked on the Shepherd as it pawed at my locker door and whimpered.

“Open it,” he commanded.

I faced my locker as tension set in. My hands shook as I reached out to grab the lock and put in my combo. Twenty-four, ten, twenty-eight. Right, left, right.

I undid the lock and pulled the door open.

All at once everything stopped.

I expected to see a few books and a hoodie I’d left behind before break. Instead, sitting on top of my calc textbook was a large bag of what looked and smelled like weed. Worse, inside the bag were individual baggies of it.

What. The. Fuck.

Immediately I whirled around, facing Rick and shaking my head. “It’s not mine.”

Rick sighed, lolling his head back and peering at the ceiling with a single shake of disgust. “Please turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

The other officers turned and faced me, prepared to force me if I didn’t comply.

For the third time in my life, I was being arrested. And the worst part was, I was actually innocent.

Thirty minutes later, I was alone and cuffed in the senior office, waiting for Scott to show up. The entire sweep had gone off without a problem, save for me.

I’d heard an officer say the bag in my locker came out to just over three pounds.

Of all the shit I’d done, this was going down as the worst of it. Possession with the intent to sell was a whole fucking felony. I was seventeen, old enough to be charged as an adult.

I couldn’t hide that I was scared. I was shaking and close to tears. How would I get out of this? How would I explain I had no idea where the weed came from? How would I convince anyone to believe me?

The door to the senior office burst open and Dreux and Bonham rushed in.

“Geez, pirate, you’ve been holding out,” Bonham said as they approached me.

Dreux glared at him. “Not funny.” He turned and assessed me, his eyes searching mine for something. When he noticed the cuffs and my position sitting with my arms behind my back in the hard plastic chair, his jaw tightened. “Shit.”

I couldn’t look at him, so I hung my head in shame. “They’re not mine.”

“I believe you.” Dreux kneeled down in front of me, meeting my line of vision. “Hey, I’m here.”

“We both are.” Bonham came and stood beside Dreux, folding his arms and standing tall. “Pick your head up. We’ll figure this out.”

Tears came to my eyes and threatened to spill. From where I was sitting, I was pretty fucked.

The principal’s door opened and Rick stepped out with Mr. Hughes. One look at his cousin and he was shaking his head.

“Get to class, Dreux,” Rick ordered. “You can’t be here.”

“I’m not leaving her.” Dreux held his ground. His hand rested on my knee as a show of support.