me.”
“Am I still under arrest?” Had to be asked, his flip-flopping emotions were giving me whiplash.
“You are and your parents have already been informed.”
“Fuck.”
“About sums it up.”
Two
Doctor’s Orders…
We’d been sitting in those god awful chairs for two hours now.
Two very long fucking hours.
For those unending minutes the sole occupants of the room where Officer pain in my ass, the flirty nurse, and me. No one to routinely check my vitals or at the very least, wrap my ankle and keep it elevated. To be decent enough to place some ice atop.
No paperwork had been started as far as my knowledge.
Not a damn thing has happened from the moment he told me I was screwed.
For craps sake, the only source of entertainment I had was the small, TV mounted on the wall opposite from my chair. Where a cable news network regurgitated the same story over…and over…and over once again. Topic of conversation: who would win this upcoming election?
They played a skilled game of who was worse. Two parties, multiple panels of “experts”, and one constipated looking anchor whom played each side against the other. Where the fuck was this doctor?
To be blunt and honest, this shit was getting old and very quick.
My ankle was swollen, bruised, and most likely sprained.
My pussy, well that son of a bitch was throbbing and not in a good way.
I’d been caught earlier tonight “vandalizing” the school. Our prank had been set for weeks. A group of five—Mr. Penton’s top students—were going to paint every surface of his room with chalk board paint. From his desk, to student chairs and even the small pens placed in an old coffee cup on his desk.
We were a quarter of the way through when the boys in blue showed up. Sirens on full blast and guns had been drawn while asking us to drop to the ground. Stupidity would find that instead of following orders, we ran.
In different directions, we took off and my downfall was being stuck with the one girl that couldn’t jump a fence if her life depended on it.
Everything had been going great: the doors had been unlocked, supplies brought in, and manpower accounted for when they showed up. She followed me to the fences near the gym with a frightened expression. Had managed to place her foot at perfect level to haul herself over, when the klutz of epic proportions, fell.
Right before I jumped.
With one leg thrown over the fences rail, I reached out and managed to catch her before Anderson did. Problem with that monumental fail of a plan: in pulling and pushing her over the fence, I slipped. Landed hard over the metal structure.
Pussy to pole and it hurt.
Who said only boys feel pain down there?
It was when I felt the first shot of pain that I cursed and she escaped. Put me right in the way of Officer Do-Gooder. He reached out for me and pulled me down not having noticed the predicament I was in. Fighting to stay somewhat on the structure, I pushed his hands away.
Two hard pulls from him and we both tumbled to the ground. Him on his back, while I landed on my ass, and one foot at an odd angle.
Screams of indignation followed by anger and embarrassment broke free from me; I took the downfall for everyone in the group. And now, three hours later, I sit inside the quiet ER at Baptist Memorial with no end in sight to this heinous night.
A night where I was supposed to be out by the beaches at this point celebrating my twenty first birthday. Under the stars; with copious amounts of booze and friends beside me. An in and out operation that was screwed up by a nosy janitor that shouldn’t have been anywhere near that side of campus.
Instead, I’m stuck and in pain.
Fuck my life?
“Who were the other kids with you tonight?” Anderson spoke then breaking me out of my thoughts. “Need full names—”
At that, I let out a sharp laugh. “Not going to happen.”
“Nora, I’m not playing games here.” Turning in his seat, he looked down at me.
“Am I still under arrest?” Had to be asked, his flip-flopping emotions were giving me whiplash.
“You are and your parents have already been informed.”
“Fuck.”
“About sums it up.”
Two
Doctor’s Orders…
We’d been sitting in those god awful chairs for two hours now.
Two very long fucking hours.
For those unending minutes the sole occupants of the room where Officer pain in my ass, the flirty nurse, and me. No one to routinely check my vitals or at the very least, wrap my ankle and keep it elevated. To be decent enough to place some ice atop.
No paperwork had been started as far as my knowledge.
Not a damn thing has happened from the moment he told me I was screwed.
For craps sake, the only source of entertainment I had was the small, TV mounted on the wall opposite from my chair. Where a cable news network regurgitated the same story over…and over…and over once again. Topic of conversation: who would win this upcoming election?
They played a skilled game of who was worse. Two parties, multiple panels of “experts”, and one constipated looking anchor whom played each side against the other. Where the fuck was this doctor?
To be blunt and honest, this shit was getting old and very quick.
My ankle was swollen, bruised, and most likely sprained.
My pussy, well that son of a bitch was throbbing and not in a good way.
I’d been caught earlier tonight “vandalizing” the school. Our prank had been set for weeks. A group of five—Mr. Penton’s top students—were going to paint every surface of his room with chalk board paint. From his desk, to student chairs and even the small pens placed in an old coffee cup on his desk.
We were a quarter of the way through when the boys in blue showed up. Sirens on full blast and guns had been drawn while asking us to drop to the ground. Stupidity would find that instead of following orders, we ran.
In different directions, we took off and my downfall was being stuck with the one girl that couldn’t jump a fence if her life depended on it.
Everything had been going great: the doors had been unlocked, supplies brought in, and manpower accounted for when they showed up. She followed me to the fences near the gym with a frightened expression. Had managed to place her foot at perfect level to haul herself over, when the klutz of epic proportions, fell.
Right before I jumped.
With one leg thrown over the fences rail, I reached out and managed to catch her before Anderson did. Problem with that monumental fail of a plan: in pulling and pushing her over the fence, I slipped. Landed hard over the metal structure.
Pussy to pole and it hurt.
Who said only boys feel pain down there?
It was when I felt the first shot of pain that I cursed and she escaped. Put me right in the way of Officer Do-Gooder. He reached out for me and pulled me down not having noticed the predicament I was in. Fighting to stay somewhat on the structure, I pushed his hands away.
Two hard pulls from him and we both tumbled to the ground. Him on his back, while I landed on my ass, and one foot at an odd angle.
Screams of indignation followed by anger and embarrassment broke free from me; I took the downfall for everyone in the group. And now, three hours later, I sit inside the quiet ER at Baptist Memorial with no end in sight to this heinous night.
A night where I was supposed to be out by the beaches at this point celebrating my twenty first birthday. Under the stars; with copious amounts of booze and friends beside me. An in and out operation that was screwed up by a nosy janitor that shouldn’t have been anywhere near that side of campus.
Instead, I’m stuck and in pain.
Fuck my life?
“Who were the other kids with you tonight?” Anderson spoke then breaking me out of my thoughts. “Need full names—”
At that, I let out a sharp laugh. “Not going to happen.”
“Nora, I’m not playing games here.” Turning in his seat, he looked down at me.
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