Dear Diary:
I'm lucky I had this journal in my bag, or I couldn't be writing this at all. Although, calling myself lucky in any way today might be dumb. It's been even worse than the last time I wrote. Way worse. Where to begin? Well, I sort of got back together with Dave. Or at least, we were still hanging out this morning. I don't really know what's going on with my life minute to minute anymore.
The day started off so well. I went over to Dave's because I wanted to, well, I wanted to feel good about myself, maybe. It was a stupid idea, but it turned out okay. He's been working hard this whole time with a tutor so he could get his grades up and get back on the team. He just found out he's eligible again. I was surprised by how happy that made me.
I know Dave isn't Mason. He's not as hot or as smart, and he's not as exciting, but maybe that's okay. Maybe my mom's right. Maybe I'm not that complicated, because it was almost a relief to be with someone who I knew wanted me. I didn't really appreciate him before, but he has his good points.
Anyhow, after I found out he was eligible again, I told him he should come to practice. He needs to get in the water. He had been running while he wasn’t swimming, but that’s not the same. I told him this morning to come swim, but he didn’t have all his gear. He had his suit, but he needed a pair of goggles. At the beginning of sixth period, I jogged out to the car to grab an extra pair. I always have a few pairs in the trunk.
I don't know why the principal had someone watching the parking lot, and I have no idea why they thought I looked suspicious, but they did. The parking lot attendant came over to check things out. I explained what I was doing, and he said to go ahead, but he didn't leave. He just stood there.
If I had any idea what was in there, do you really think I'd have just opened it up? I may not be Einstein okay, but give me some credit. I'm not a total moron.
When I opened the trunk, it was full of all kinds of crap. Pills, bags of stuff, a bunch of junk I'd never seen. At first, I thought maybe it was part of some kind of science project for Lacy, but then I remembered she was in physics this year, not chemistry. They don't use powders, and pills and stuff in that, I don't think. At least, I never did in my physics for dummies class last year.
The attendant started shouting and then the police showed up. On school grounds, in the middle of the day. It was crazy. They made me follow them back to the school, while a police officer started taking photos, and stuffing everything into marked blue bags. I was lucky it was in the middle of sixth period, because the way they marched me through the halls, and into the principal's office you'd think I'd just killed someone. At least no one was around to see.
Lacy comes to the front office every day to do the morning announcements, but other than breezing past the front desk to drop off excused absence slips, I'd never been up here. The principal's office was big, almost as big as the front lobby, and half the room was taken up with a wooden desk. The other side was crammed full of shiny, brown wooden chairs. The parking attendant shoved me down into a chair and walked out the door without a single word, but he glared at me as he left. The principal sat in his desk chair, scowling at me. He didn't speak.
"What's going on?" I finally asked.
He stood up and walked around the desk. "Hope Vincent, right?"
I nodded.
"Hope, did anyone ask you to store something for them?"
I shook my head.
"Anyone at all. Did they tell you that they just needed it put somewhere for a day, or even for a few hours?"
"No," I said. "I haven't talked to anyone about anything going in my car."
"Do you know what we found in your trunk?"
“I saw all that stuff, but I don’t know what it is.” That was true, but it didn't sound good.
"Did anyone else have access to your car? A key? Or did you leave it unlocked?"
"The trunk can only be opened with a key." Before I said anything else, an image flashed across my mind. Lacy with a pill bottle. Mom yelling. Mom freaking out.
Lacy had a key.
What if the bags were drugs, and the drugs were hers? Would Lacy go to jail? She's eighteen, and I'm just seventeen. Lacy’s so smart, and she's going to college for sure. I thought about that recruiter. I had a chance at college, but I'd seen Lacy's letters. She'd not only been accepted to good schools, but she even had scholarship offers to a few. I didn't even have any ideas for a college major. Unless swimming was a major, which I doubted.
Why would Lacy have an entire trunk full of pills?
"Miss Vincent?" Principal Skinner was looking at me like he'd asked me something else and I hadn't answered.
"I'm sorry," I said, "what?"
"We found a lot of illegal drugs in your car, Miss Vincent. This is serious. You don't seem like the type of person to take them, but if I've learned anything in my eleven years as a principal, you never know. You could be in very real trouble if it turns out those are yours. Right now, until you tell us different, that's our assumption."
I looked down at my shoes. "I was just going out to my car to get some goggles for a friend."
"You're quite the swimmer from what I hear."
I nodded.
"I just want to get to the bottom of this. I want to figure out where those came from so we can deal with the problem."
I glanced up at him. "If you find this person, what might happen to her? Or him?"
"She," he paused then and stared at me for a moment, "would be in a lot of trouble."
"Or he," I said.
"Right."
"What does that mean? Trouble like suspended?"
"No, Miss Vincent. Trouble like jail time, or juvenile hall, at the very least. There were a lot of drugs in your trunk. Pot. Stimulants, narcotics. In Texas, the punishment depends on a lot of things. How much was found in your possession is one factor, certainly. Another factor is your age. Even if you aren't eighteen yet, they could choose to try you as an adult if the circumstances merit it. You should be completely up front with me today. The truth is your best defense."
I suddenly couldn't breathe. I thought about Lacy, my brilliant sister. She worked so hard. She did so much. She helped around the house while I was out swimming. She helped with laundry while I went for jogs on the beach. She was always doing homework. She helped me with my homework whenever I asked. She always shared what she had, and she gave me whatever I wanted. The cherry on a sundae. The best seat on the rollercoaster. The bigger bedroom.
She came to my swim meet, even when I was being a jerk. I knew she was there, and I kissed Moby anyway. I knew Moby liked her more, and I let her think I'd been with him, and if I was being honest, maybe I thought that would help me win him from her.
She was a really great sister to me. She always had been.
I was the world’s worst sister.
But now she needed my help. She was the only other person with a key, so I knew she'd made a mistake, a big one. One that could eat her whole future in one bite. Me on the other hand, well, I loved swimming, and it would've been cool to swim for UT. But once I was done, it wasn't like I had some major career plans I would springboard toward. The next sixty years of my life would be essentially the same, even if I got kicked out of school and went to Juvie for a while. Lacy though, this would destroy her, and she's like a rocket launching into space. The sky's the limit.
I had a chance to fix this if I played this just right. Maybe she would forgive me for being spoiled and selfish and greedy. Maybe she would love me again.
"Miss Vincent, I'm going to ask you one more time before we pass you over to the police. I'm much nicer than them, and I can recommend other options in your case, like diversion if you want to avoid going into police custody. Trust me on this, I’m your best friend right now. Did someone ask you to hold these drugs? Where did they come from? Who else had access to your car today?"
"No one else had access. I share the car with my sister, but I've been the only person driving it for more than a week. My mom will confirm that. We got in a big fight, and she's been getting rides, or driving my mom's car. She doesn't have access to it at all."
"If no one else had a key, then how do you think the drugs got into your trunk?" The principal had returned to his side of the desk. I guess he wasn't so worried about getting me to confide in him, now that it looked like I might be the villain.
It was now or never. This was my shot. I could toss Lacy under the bus, tell him I'd forgotten, that Lacy had a second set of keys. I could swear those drugs were not in the trunk that morning, when I tossed my swim bag inside.
I could have told him the truth and my life would have gotten much easier, much better.
I didn't.
“They're mine," I said. "All the drugs are mine. I’ve met a lot of people with swimming and I live on the beach. I meet more people that way. I always have a big bag with me. I make a lot of money on the side with that. I was trying to figure out how to get out of it, but I guess you got me before I did."
Principal Skinner sat on the edge of his chair, and shuffled some papers. "Are you sure? Your mother has a good job, and you already have a car. Why did you need money so badly? Why would you sell drugs?"
"I’m sick of sharing a car with my sister. We got in a fight, like I said, and I want my own car. And not a piece of junk. I realized I could make a lot more money if I just sold some stuff, but a little turned into more."
He raised one eyebrow. "Just like that, you decided to 'sell some stuff'?"
"I'm not saying anything else," I said. "Don't I get a lawyer or something?"
"You're a minor," he said. "Once I hand you over to the police, they can't talk to you without your guardian there. She will make decisions about whether you have a lawyer. Who is your legal guardian?"
"My mom, Rosemary Vincent."
"Alright, if you're sure that's your story, I'll hand you over to the police. They'll take you downtown, and contact your guardian to come and meet you at the precinct."
I just stared at him, trying to look penitent, but guilty.
The two men in dark blue police uniforms didn't put me in handcuffs. They even let me keep my backpack with me. I guess they weren't worried about me doing them bodily harm. Strangely, with my police escort, I felt less embarrassed than I had being marched through the halls with the principal and the parking lot attendant.
I followed the officers quietly and quickly, and climbed into the back of their squad car. It had a glass partition between the back seat and the front. I wished for a second that I had a club or something I could pound the glass with, like a movie thug. I didn't, so I just sat there, holding my backpack on my lap. Everything felt surreal, like it was a bizarre dream. They took me to the police station, and then after filling out some forms, they led me over to a small room with a few mirrors. It must be an interrogation room, but no one interrogated me. They just left me to sit in here alone. I'm guessing we're waiting for my mom. If she's got a migraine, we might all be here for a while because she turns off her phone.
I should be mad at Lacy maybe, for putting me in this position. Or maybe I should be angry because I'm pretty sure she and Moby will work things out, and I still kind of wish he'd picked me. If I’m honest, I might wish that more because I hate to lose than because I love him or something. I could be fuming about having to spend my Friday afternoon and evening stuck here waiting for my mom, but I'm not. I feel oddly calm about the whole thing. The cops told me that even if I end up getting booked, the judge will set bail. We don't have a ton of money, but they said it won't be too bad. One of the cops, the older one, said he has a son about my age. He seemed almost sorry to stick me in here, even if he does think I'm a drug dealer-in-training.
Now I just have to wait here until my mom can come and get me out and bring me home. I doubt many kids who are sitting in a police department, waiting for their mom to show up so they can be interrogated about a felony, are in a good mood, but I feel strangely at peace.
You said I'm supposed to work on introductions and conclusions in these journal entries, and so I'll be honest, Ms. Littleton, even if I get expelled. Even if you never read this and I don't graduate. Even if I have to go to Juvie for a while, and I can't swim anymore. Even if this ruins my entire life, this still feels like the first thing I've done right in a long time.
Sitting here, about to be booked for a crime, I finally feel proud of who I am.