Second Chances – Part 1 [Poor pencil]

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The school rang with laughter; little children chased each other, laughing merrily. Rory sighed, flipping through a pile of paintings. Smiling to herself, she held up a picture of what was supposed to be herself and another student. Shaking her head, she made her way to two fighting rowdy boys.

"Boys, what is it now?" Rory asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Timmy stole my blue crayon," the dark haired boy wailed, tears streaming down his face.

Kneeling to his eyes level, Rory wiped his tears away. "Timmy, why did you steal his crayon?"

Timmy, a red haired boy with freckles shrugged "I needed it," he whined.

Rory smiled, taking the crayon and breaking it into two. Handing the pieces to the boys, she winked. "There we go."

Ian's mouth widened, showing his missing front tooth "Ms. Gilmore! You not s'posed to do that!"

"Shhh, our little secret okay?"

"Kay," both boys grinned, running off to their crayon drawings.

-

Straightening his red tie, he walked into the intimidating building. Casting grins to secretaries drooling over the young man. Grinning broadly, he made his way through the long hallway, finding his office. Entering the spacious room, he sat comfortably in his leather chair and spun around wildly three times. Part of his morning routine. He laid his eyes on the muffin basket and his lemon tea, things he couldn't live without on a workday and took a muffin gratefully. Blueberry.

"Sandy, do I have any messages?" he asked through the black thin phone.

"Nope, not right now," the sweet voice of an elderly woman filled the room "But your nine o'clock is here."

Tristan looked down to his watch, while chewing the muffin thoughtfully "Sandy, it's nine thirty."

"Yeah well," she woman laughed, "You ask him."

"Send him in," he sighed, gulping down his lemon tea in record time.

A young man with dark jelled hair walked in, his broken down jeans and leather jacket complimented his rebellious good looks. He sat, with a slight frown in the comfortable plush chair, playing with his key chain. Tristan studied him, telling himself forcefully to not judge the man sitting in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he went through a series of pages.

"Jess Mariano?" he asked, looking straight at his new client.

The young man nodded, his eyes looked deeply bored. Coughing slightly, he brought his hands through his dark hair "Yeah, uhh sorry I'm late. Traffic, New York City… well you get the picture."

"I understand Mr. Mariano," Tristan replied, writing down a series of notes.

"Jess is fine," he scowled at 'Mr. Mariano'

"Right, well then, I've been looking through your case and what you've been accused of doing."

"I didn't do it," Jess replied quickly.

"You need more then that to prove your innocence Mr. – Jess. This is a damn serious crime you're accused of."

"I'm very well aware of that," Jess retorted dryly.

Tristan played with the yellow pencil in front of him, tapping it lightly against his mahogany desk. "Why are you innocent?"

"What?"

"You say you didn't do it right?"

"Huh?"

Tristan rolled his eyes, clearing his throat before speaking "Were you part of that brawl on the night of July twenty seventh, where it resulted in the death of Thomas Brinkley?"

"No," he answered loudly

"What do you have to prove your innocence?"

"What do you mean?"

Tristan, getting impatient looked to his partner, Robert Reynolds, who had just walked in (damn traffic). Robert, a handsome man with auburn hair and auburn eyes noticed this and talked for him.

"We need your alibi… your defense… the reason you're innocent."

"Thanks," Jess answered "I think I finally get it," he sarcastically retorted.

"Well, what is it?" Tristan's voice rose with each passing word.

Jess sat back in his chair, drumming his fingers against the arm seat. "July twenty seventh… I was helping my step cousin with her car."

"With her car?" Tristan questioned, writing more notes on the notebook.

"Carburetor."

"If you're bullshitting any of this… do you know the consequences?"

"Why would I bullshit anything? Do you think I want to go to jail?" his patience was thinning.

"Alright, enough," Robert replied, "Is there any way we can contact your step cousin?"

"Yeah, she lives in Staten Island."

"Great, would she mind if we interview her about the twenty seventh?"

"Go ahead and try, I'm really doubting she'll tell you anything though."

"Why the hell not?" Tristan asked "She wants to see you in jail?"

"She doesn't know," Jess coughed "And I don't want her to know."

"Then how do we ask her?"

"You're lawyers, you'll figure something out," Jess smirked, then turned serious "She doesn't… it takes time before she… umm… warms up to anyone. She relies heavily on trust, and she takes a while for her to do that, especially around guys."

Robert nodded, turning his anyone to Jess "Tell me about her."

"She's a school teacher, she teaches the second grade…"

"Her name?" Tristan asked, getting himself prepared to take the name down.

"Lorelai Gilmore, but she goes by Rory."

Snap.

There goes the pencil.

Told you the sequel will be up soon. So, how'd I do? Good or Bad?

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- RockerFreak