"I'm cold."
"Sorry, Liz'," said Debra as she looked at the doughnut-eating employee.
When Donald heard what Lizzie said, he slid next to her on the bench. "You want me to keep you warm, baby?" he asked all slick.
"No," answered Lizzie, "and don't call me 'baby'. Only DeMarcus can call me that... And my parents, who are going to kill me when they find out I'm in jail."
"You're not in jail. This is a cell you have to stay in before you go to actual jail."
"How do you know that, Charlie Sheen?" Debra muttered.
"Hey, that's none of your business."
"Um, I believe it is my business because we're in jail."
"I can't believe we're in jail because of a bag of candy," said Lizzie. "Did the lady arrest us because we didn't offer her any?"
"Lizzie, it was not candy. The cop said it was various drugs. They wouldn't have been in the car if it wasn't for Donald and Kyle."
"Why are you blaming me?" asked Kyle. His full attention was caught.
"His drugs were in your car."
"But I can't take half the blame. Like you said, it's his drugs."
"But when a friend is doing drugs, you help them. You don't let them consume the drugs in your car."
"Hey! I knew Donald did drugs; I never let him eat them in my car. There is a big difference between the two."
"Guys, I would really appreciate it if you stopped saying that the drugs are mine," Donald admitted quietly. "That lady is still staring at us pretty hard."
The teens looked at the woman, who was still eating doughnuts and looking at them as hard as Donald said.
"Either way," continued Debra, "your car, your responsibility."
"Don't talk to me about responsibility," said Kyle. "Okay? I am eighteen; I know enough about responsibility."
"Apparently, you don't because if you did know enough about it, we wouldn't even be here."
"Debra, I get that we're in jail. Alright, it sucks. We've been here for more than half an hour but it sucks period. You can't be mad at me about something I was unaware of. I never thought a cop would even come to the window and see what I didn't see. Please don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you. I'm disappointed. All this time, I thought you were perfect for me and that you were a good boyfriend. But now, I'm starting to really doubt any of that."
"Wow. You sound like my dad... minus the 'boyfriend' part. I guess I'm gonna leave you alone now. And by 'leave you alone', I mean 'ignore you while I stand five feet away from you'."
Kyle turned around and slowly walked away from Debra, leaning against the steel cold bars and looking out them, although there was nothing to look at. Debra raised her eyebrows out of sadness and looked down.
"You know, babe," Donald started, putting his arm around Lizzie, "if you start to feel lonely, know that I will never leave you alone. I mean we're gonna be here for a while so we might as well... warm up. I don't mind warming you up in front of everybody."
Lizzie scoffed. "I said don't call me babe."
"No, you said 'baby'. Two different words."
"Which mean the same thing. I'm not that dumb."
"I wish you were."
Lizzie gasped. "Why? So you can warm me up?"
"Well, you don't seem that you will let me."
"Hey, Donald, I wanna tell you something. Come closer."
"Okay."
Donald leaned in towards Lizzie, facing her from only inches away. Lizzie smirked at him, hypnotizing him with her brown eyes, before she balled her hand into a fist and punched Donald between his legs. Donald's eyes almost jumped out of his head. He groaned as he held in crotch, hoping pressure would eliminate the pain. But it did not.
"I'm gonna go take a walk," Donald uttered in a raspy tone, wheezing and coughing.
He lifted himself up from the bench and waddled away, making distance towards the bars.
"Thanks, Lizzie," said Debra.
"Why are you thanking me?" asked Lizzie. "I did that for myself."
"I know. I just always wanted to do that. But I'm cursed with patience."
"That's not true. You sometimes have your 'un-patient' moments."
"Impatient and you're right. I always thought of myself as some lotus flower. How many lotus flowers do you know that went to jail?"
"F-Five?"
"It wasn't an answering question, Liz'. I thought my life was going good, mainly because of my friends, but partially because of my boyfriend. But somewhere I went wrong because I'm in jail and it's not because of my friends. It's because of Kyle. And freakin' Donald, Kyle's buddy. Sometimes, the universe goes crazy, especially on one person."
Lizzie's eyes squinted as they welled up with water. She sniveled, audibly sucking up air through her mouth. She rolled her lips in as Debra took a look at her.
"Lizzie, why are you crying?" Debra asked.
"I'm in jail!" Lizzie responded.
"Lizzie, stop crying."
"Why?"
"Because if you don't stop crying, I'll start crying." Debra's voice began to break and water gathered above her bottom eyelids.
"But you're already crying."
"That's because you're crying."
"I know. That's what you said."
The girls broke down in tears at the same time and held on to each other, wailing and howling like sad wolves. Donald waddled up towards the hugging girls and tried to get in on the action. Debra's eyes were closed but she felt Donald's hands coming in contact with her arms. So, as an impulse, she smacked her hand under Donald's legs, creating more pain in his groin. He held onto his crotch again and decided to waddle away once more.
"We need to get out of here," said Lizzie after pulling away.
"We will," Debra said, interlocking her fingers with Lizzie's. She looked at the pastry-scarfing woman and demanded, "Miss, we need to make our one phone calls."
"Oh, you lesbians are in a hurry?" questioned the lady.
"Look, I know we each are able to make at least one phone call. I've seen it on TV. Besides, we committed a petty crime so we should be allowed to get bail tonight."
"I don't know. I heard you're locked up for drug possession." The lady began to sing, "And if you got drugs, that should be against the law."
"Oh, come on! Please?"
"I'm just messing with you. Of course you guys can make a phone call."
"Wait a minute now," said Donald, who was holding onto the bars. "I can't call nobody. My parents think I've been sober for fourteen months and that I've been using the money to buy food for estranged dogs."
"Have you?" asked Lizzie, getting happy.
"No."
"Oh."
"If I start to, will you make out with me?"
"Talk to the hand... that punched you in the nuts."
"I don't want to talk to my parents either, Donald," confessed Kyle, "but they're my only hope."
"I got to call my dad," said Debra.
"I can't call my dad," said Lizzie. "Or my mom. Or anyone in my family who's a Christian."
"You got to call your parents, Lizzie."
"But you don't understand. They'll see me in these clothes and ground me for a year. And for being in jail, they're gonna make me read the Bible... the whole thing in an entire day! I can't, Debbie, I just can't."
"Alright, then call Madeline."
"Why?"
"Because she got cha-ching-ching-ching."
"You're right. Hey, I bet she'll break all of us out. Should I call her first?"
"Yes, Doll, please."
Donald walked over to Lizzie and squeezed her tight. "Oh, baby, I knew you would pull through."
Lizzie pushed Donald off in one try then slapped him across his cheek. As he held his red, struck cheek while looking at Lizzie all crazy, she told him:
"That's right. I slapped you... with the hand I used to punch your nuts."
No comments:
Post a Comment