Juilliard or Else

by Reese, Nichele

  He snapped his fingers and pointed to my one cuffed hand. "Joe, would you please?" A little round fat cop, that clearly sat at a desk, walked up to uncuffed me. My dad held his hand out and I took it. We walked down a short hallway. Turning quickly to see if Tucker was still at the desk, we rounded a corner, but all I saw was cream paint.

  My dad took me into a darkened room with one window. Two other cops were in there as well.

  "Ah, David, you brought our witness," one cop said as we stood next them. They both smelled of strong coffee in their pressed uniforms. Coffee always reminded me of Jade; I wondered if she was alright, I would rather be with her right now.

  "This is my daughter, Abigail." His hands cupped my shoulders. Both men looked at me and nodded.

  "Let's begin, shall we?"

  One officer hit a button with a loud buzzing sound and a door opening. Gazing around the room from the window, it was just like something off a movie; I was the person who stood on the opposite side of the mirror, invisible to the people on the other side. Bald men started entering the room, one by one, lining up in a straight line, all holding number signs. My stomach dropped at the very last guy, number six, the one from the alleyway, who hit my friend in the stomach with his stupid knife that had been pressed against my throat.

  "Abigail, who stabbed Rachel Dawson tonight? Just say a number," one officer stated. My dad's hands still held onto my shoulders, slowly rubbing them.

  "Number six." I raised my hand and pointed to the one bald guy who I would never forget – his face would always be burned into my brain. He would always be the man who killed Rachel.

  "Very good. You may go now, David."

  We left the little room and my dad held my hand as we walked down another hallway. The cream colored walls were lifeless with no pictures. Yelling from rooms made me flinch back into my dad's side. We passed the little room with the desks, glancing around rather quickly to see if Tucker was still there, but no one was sitting at any desks.

  We entered a smaller room than the one before. I sat on one side of the little table while my dad sat on the other, propping his foot on his knee, relaxing into the seat as he examined a yellow file. Once in a while, he would rub his chin as if deep in thought. I looked around the small dark room with one light and no secret window. The silence was killing me; my dad had never been this quiet before. I sat on my fingers and let my feet sway underneath the chair, barely touching the ground. My dad cleared his throat and I looked back at him, meeting his stare.

  "Abigail," he started and cleared his throat. "Do you know that Rachel died tonight?"

  I dropped my head. I already knew, but I didn't want to even say it out loud.

  "Look at me," he said and I slowly brought my head back up. "Do you know that Rachel died tonight?" he asked me again and I nodded in shame.

  "Do you know this man?" He slid a picture of the bald guy towards me, but I shook my head.

  "This is Spencer Harvey, also known as Skinner. Boyfriend of Tori Tucker. They are both drug addicts. Spencer was arrested two months ago for drug battery, assault, and robbery."

  He took the picture back and put it in the folder. He flipped more papers and slid another picture towards me.

  "Do you know this person?" Looking up to see a picture of Brad holding a little sign under his face—his own mug shot.

  "Yes," I quietly answered

  He cleared his throat again, "Tell me who he is."

  I tapped the photo with my finger. "That's Brad. We've hung out with him a couple of times."

  "With who?" He asked as he took the picture back and placed in the right spot where he got it from and turned more pages.

  I shifted uncomfortably, "Rachel, Jade, Jett and Tucker."

  "Ah, Tucker. You mean this boy?"

  He slid a picture of Tucker across the table. It felt like he was moving in a slow wave and Tucker's still photo face stopped before my eyes. I rubbed my head; Tucker had been arrested before.

  He lied to me, he lied.

  My heart felt like it was just ripped out of my chest, stomped on, put through a shredder bin and taped back together, right after a dog peed on it. That was the best way I could describe my heart right now. I choked on a sob that got caught in my throat. My dad took the picture back and started talking to me, as if he didn't care that I was crying.

  "Kyle Tucker. Twenty-five, arrested on the charges of: drug paraphernalia, robbery, resisting arrest, charged with trespassing, charged with giving a false name to a police officer, driving with a suspended license, charged with driving under the influence with a suspended license. Abigail, the list goes on, is this really the boy you wish to continue seeing?" He set the folder down and took off his glasses to rub his nose — something he's always done when he's frustrated.

  I was in full on shaking sobs by this point. I rested my head on my arms on the table and sobbed. I bawled for many reasons at this moment; I cried for the Tucker my dad was telling me about, the Tucker I didn't know anything about. He lied to me about getting arrested; he told me he'd never been to jail for anything that night we played twenty questions on my balcony.

  "Abigail, this is not the type of crowd you want to hang around with. His crowd is dangerous. Look what happened to Rachel tonight. What if that happened to you?"

  I sobbed more into my arms. My heart was shattered. I had no idea who this Kyle Tucker character was – he wasn't the Tucker I fell in love with, that was for dang sure.

  "Where is he?" I sniffed.

  I waited for my dad to answer me. I had to find out why he lied, lied about everything, but my dad didn't answer right away. I sat there, shaking like a leaf, waiting for him to tell me. When I looked up at him, my eyes probably red from crying, he sighed.

  "Right across the hall."

  Standing up, the chair scraped against the tile floor as I moved towards the door. I was going to walk right in and demand answers, but I stopped once my dad placed a hand on my shoulder.

  "Abigail, let's think before you act on this okay. Now, listen to me, angel." I faced my dad with nothing but anger written all over my face.

  "Tucker is handcuffed to the chair. He knows he's being watched and videotaped, so he probably won't talk to you. There's a little camera in one of the corners; the light will be blinking, meaning it's recording."

  I nodded, then gripped the cool metal doorknob. I was calm as he explained about the camera. I had to keep a low profile about the baby. I couldn't let my dad know just yet. He leaned in and whispered in my ear as I pushed the door slowly open.

  "If you need me, I'll be right in that room." My dad pointed to the window; knowing he'd be across from me made me a little more comfortable.

  The room was dark with one light on in the center of the small table. I glanced around to see the little black camera in the corner with a blinking red light. Tucker sat at the table, his hands cuffed behind him with his head down. I pulled out the chair and sat across from him, not looking up at me. Just like how I was with my dad, head down, not talking. I waited for him to look up, but he sat there, motionless.

  "Tucker," my voice cracked in the dead silenced room. He slowly brought his head up and met my eyes. His happy blue eyes were now sad, lost. They broke my heart. I wanted more than anything to go in his arms, but I had to stay strong I had to ask the questions I wanted to know, find out who the real Tucker was.

  "How come you never told me your name is Kyle?" my voice shook at my words coming out.

  Silence

  "You've been arrested before. Drugs right?"

  Silence

  I started getting antsy, my nails drumming on the table, waiting for him to talk.

  "Do you do them?" Tucker snorted and shook his head no, then dropped his head back down.

  More silence.

  I leaned in on the table, "Tuck, you have to talk to me," I whispered.

  Silence.

  I could feel myself getting irritated. He was hiding from me. I stood up from the table and st
arted to pace back and forth, something I did when I was mad at Carol or frustrated with Jasmine or Madame Ava. Tucker still didn't look up at me. I then found myself walking in circles around the little lit room, around the table, around Tucker, and he still didn't look at me. The more I waited on him, the more impatient I grew. I huffed air, I sighed, anything to get his attention and nothing.

  Finally not taking it anymore, my anger exploded right out of me, like a pot of boiling hot water, and next thing I knew, I was yelling.

  "Why did you lie to me?!"

  Silence.

  "You've been arrested for drugs; you've been arrested for DUI driving. How stupid can you be? My dad is the Criminal Justice attorney; he has like this big file on you, Brad, that Spencer guy and you don't have one word to say to me? Rachel is dead, she's dead, Tucker, and you can't even look at me?" I slammed my fist into my chest at the hurt I was feeling from all my disputes with him.

  Silence.

  Standing behind him now, the feeling I had earlier of hugging him was now gone and all I had left was hurt inside me. I wanted just to smack him upside the head to get him mad at me, something. Instead, I was quiet with my next words.

  "Where's the Tucker I fell in love with?" His feet started to move. "Where's the Tucker who loves me? Where's the Tucker who holds me, protects me?" His body started to shift in the chair. "Where's the Tucker who doesn't give a crap what people think about us? Where's the Tucker who makes sweet love to me?"

  I bent down on my knees to the side of his motionless body, head still down. Tears slipped from my eyes as I pleaded with him. I didn't care to wipe them off my face, I wanted him to see me cry for him.

  "Where's the Tucker I love?" I reached up and turned his head to look at me. His eyes were closed and he was starting to shake under my palm.

  My voice screeched out, "Tucker," and his eyes opened and bore into mine. They were red as his own tears streaked freely down his face. I wiped them away as fast as I could, but the more he wept, the more I found myself crying.

  "Tucker, please talk to me," I tried again, as we stared at each other. I pushed his hair out of his face as he inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. I was surrounded by the scent of him. Our eyes not leaving one another, as he started speaking.

  "My name is Kyle Tucker. I help deal drugs with my buddy, Brad Evans. Spencer Harvey is my mom's boyfriend. We call him Skinner on the streets. He's the one who had you, then stabbed Rachel. I want nothing more than to kill that son of a bitch for touching you. My mom is a drug junkie who could give two shits about me. I grew up with an abusive dad, who I'm named after. If you had an abusive dad like mine, you wouldn't blame me for going by my last name. I want nothing to do with him. Jeremiah is Ethan's right hand man; Ethan supplies us with the product and we go sell it, then bring the money back. If we're under the amount, Jeremiah steps in to bring us to Ethan at the greenhouse in Central Park. That very first night, at the club when Jeremiah touched you, to warn you."

  My heart stopped at the memory of his hands on me, "Stay away from Tucker, this is your warning," His voice echoed through my ears.

  "What product, Tucker?"

  His eyes were so sad when the met mine. "Anything to everything. Crank also known as Crystal, weed, acid, X, heroin, everything, Gabs. Anything that pulls money in to Ethan. Brad is always in huge ass trouble and pulls me in to help him. Brad uses more than what he sells, always in a shit hole. I help him bring in money so Ethan doesn't go all crazy ass on him."

  Tucker let out a big breath and started up again, "Ethan was pissed off that Brad and I were at the club and not out dealing. Jeremiah saw me with you and tried to scare you away. That pissed me off, so I went after him and yelled at him to leave you alone. Then Jett stepped in as Jade was pulling you outside. I told Jeremiah to tell Ethan to find another minion to do his damn dirty work and leave me the hell alone. That night at the greenhouse…"

  His eyes shut as the memory of our first time together replayed in my head. The most wonderful night of my life, to let go and let Tucker have all of me, to touch, to feel for the very first time as he caressed my body, kissed my bruised feet, then slowly made love to me for the first time.

  "Ethan was pissed that I brought you there, and he was pissed I wasn't dealing anymore. After you ran off, I tried to go after you, but Ethan pinned me down – told me if I didn't kick your ass to the curb, he would hurt you. I couldn't leave you alone after threatening that to me…I wanted to be there every second. I've been trying to cut ties, trying to stop dealing and taking his calls. Brad got a hold of me to tell me Skinner was out looking for me for payback, but he found you first. Now all this shit is happening. Gabs, I need you. Don't leave me, not when I need you the most."

  His head dropped from my hands as I wept more. I couldn't believe Tucker, my Tucker was a drug dealer. He told me he loved tattooing more than anything. That all he ever wanted to do was be able to draw and print things people loved on their body.

  "Tucker, I love you." I snaked my arms around his neck and hugged him. I embraced him to bring him comfort, I held onto him for the loss of our friend. We cried into each other's arms until a knock sounded on the door.

  I pulled back from him to look into his red-rimmed eyes. I softly kissed his trembling lips, which turned a little heated with our passion for each other... I sat on his lap and put everything I had into that kiss. A squeaking door opened with someone clearing their throat. Tucker's body went stiff under my arms as I glanced over my shoulder to see Alex's tall frame fill the doorway of our little room.

  "Abigail, your father is waiting," Alex stated, walking up to the little table, then sitting across from us. He flipped open a yellow folder like the one my dad had. Then he started talking to Tucker like I wasn't even there.

  "Kyle Tucker, do you understand your rights as to why you're being charged tonight?"

  Silence.

  "Abigail, leave us," Alex said as he continued to flip pages over and when I didn't move off of Tucker's lap, he yelled, "Abigail GO!" and I jumped.

  "Don't you fucking talk to her like that!" Tucker shouted back.

  Alex glared at Tucker from across the table. Tucker being helpless and handcuffed, sitting there like prey, wasn't helping his situation.

  "Listen, boy, you are being charged with murder here, and if…"

  "What?!" I stood up, "You can't charge him with murder, and he didn't do it."

  My voice echoing off the walls and my dad came strolling in the room. "Abigail, out now!"

  "No, I'm not leaving him." More tears came out. I wasn't going to leave him. He just admitted everything to me. He needed me.

  "Abigail," my dad growled out.

  "NO!" I screamed, "Just let him go! He didn't do anything! Tucker helped me, Dad, he's not guilty."

  My dad sighed, "Abigail, Tucker had drugs on him. We have to charge him," he told me and I went still. I turned to Tucker whose face was turned down. I stared at him, waiting for him to look up at me and tell me it wasn't true. But he didn't look up at me. He didn't tell me it wasn't true because it was…the baggies…the white stuff…

  "Is that true? You were dealing tonight? Is that why you didn't come?"

  Silence.

  My heart broke for him and I found myself walking towards my dad's open arms. I glanced back over my shoulder. Tucker still had his head down as my dad shut the door. I crashed into my dad's chest and cried into his pressed white shirt and tie. He held me, rubbing my back, shushing me in my ear. I didn't want it to be true that Tucker had drugs on him when he came to me in the alleyway. Drugs were so bad; they did nothing but destroy your life. They ate away at your soul, killing your insides and all the people around you, destroying everything in their path.

  I don't know how long I cried into my dad's chest, but I soon heard loud obnoxious high heels clacking on the tile floor. "David!" Carol shouted as she made her way towards us. Pissed off was all over her face when she stopped at our side. Her face was flaming red and her lips were p
ressed together in her Carol mad way. She then flew past us and went right into the room with Alex and Tucker. I stumbled out of my dad's arms and followed her.

  Carol stood next to Alex and pointed an angry finger at Tucker. "You stay away from my daughter, you trailer trash worthless piece of shit!" she yelled.

  My dad pulled on my arm to get me out of the room. Tucker was still motionless as Carol went on with hateful words that made me cry out for Tucker. He just sat there, taking every word.

  "Carol, stop," I whined while I fought against my dad's hold. Carol walked around the little table, like I did earlier, her face still mad and angry as she stopped behind Tucker's chair.

  "You are so low, Kyle Tucker. You don't deserve my daughter. You don't deserve anything, except a life behind bars, and that's where you truly belong."

  I shut my eyes as I listened to Carol's hateful words to the man I loved, the father of my baby that was growing inside me. Carol straightened her body, then looked at Alex, "Do what you can to keep him away from us." She grabbed her clutch purse and left the room with me on her tail. Before I could grab her arm to have her face me, she turned on me.

  "How could you be so stupid, Abigail?! How could you do this to us, to yourself? You know what that boy has done? You can't possibly want to be with someone like that!" Carol continued to yell at me in the tiny hallway of the police department. Every time I tried to talk back, she yelled more at me.

  "You're just as stupid as he is!" she kept saying over and over. The more she yelled, the more I got mad. My dad, who stood behind me, kept on telling her to be quiet, but she didn't listen. She kept getting louder and louder with each sentence until finally, I lost it.

  "Shut up!" I screamed, my arms flying in the air. "Shut up!" and she finally did.

  Silence.

  "This isn't Tucker's fault," Carol scoffed at me. "It's not, he helped me, us!" I screeched out.

  "Abigail, Rachel is dead because of him. One of your friends died tonight. I know your other friend, Jaiden, is a complete mess right now. Trish is with her; you should see how miserable they are right now at the loss. And all you can do is stand here and defend someone who should be locked up? You don't even care, do you?"