Gunther-Hagen watched with a satisfied smirk on his face as the six kids were brought into the police station. He was standing behind one-way glass. Unlike the kids, he wasn't handcuffed, but there was a guard standing attention in the observation room, ready to spring if he should try anything.

But there was nothing left to try. No one would believe these kids when they said that he had had a gun and that the janitor had had a whip. Who would believe a bunch of ragtag, abrasive kids? His dream would be fulfilled, and he would never have to see head nor tail of those disgusting teenagers ever again. They'd get sent off to military school, or juvenile jail, and their lives would be ruined. And it was all thanks to him, the vice principal who had made it impossible for these children to survive detention.

…

MAX

"What's your name?" the officer in front of me asked.

"Max." I retorted. I was coming off of my weed high now, and thank God for that otherwise I'd get arrested on account of use and possession of marijuana since I was a minor. But the bad part of that was that my head ached like it had just been smashed against a wall, and my mouth was so parched that every word I spoke felt like my tongue was going to crumble into a pile of dust.

"Max what? Full name," the officer said shortly. She was tiny, only about four feet tall, but she exuded power and authority. Her nametag read Chief Waters. Great. They gave me the Head Honcho, which meant she could probably throw me in the sewer if I upset her.

"Maxine Wilhelmina Evanovich-Martinez-Ride." I said clearly.

She frowned at me. "You think this is funny, kid?"

"Absolutely not." It was hilarious, mainly because I was so scared that I was going to get arrested. It was taking all I had not to break out into giggles. I had inappropriate reactions to stressful situations, okay?

"No one has three last names."

"Well, I do. One's my father's last name, one's my mother's maiden name that I adopted after my horrible father left us, and one's mine that I picked for myself."

Chief Waters squinted at me. "You picked your own last name?"

I shrugged. "That's not illegal, is it?"

"No, I s'pose it's not," the chief said after a pause.

…

JASON

"I'm only going to ask you this once. Did you or did you not blow up the east wing hallway of Newton High School?"

I fidgeted slightly, not because I was feeling guilty or anything –what we did was totally justified, I was just worried that the cops weren't going to see it that way –but because the chair I was sitting in was literally the most uncomfortable chair I had ever had the misfortune to come across. And I had sat on rickety lab stools in Physics before. Besides, Celeste had drilled us all on what we were going to do if the cops asked us something we didn't feel comfortable answering. "No." I said clearly, wincing at the lie.

The short, fat, balding officer squinted at me. "No, what?"

"Erm… no… sir?"

He sighed. "No, I mean, what do you mean by no?"

I blinked, confused. "What?"

He ran a finger through his thinning hair and winced as a few more strands came off. "I asked you a question."

"And I gave you an answer," I said, fighting the mad impulse to throw up. "I said no."

"Yeah, but no, what?"

"I don't get you, sir."

He opened his mouth again, and then shut it. "All right. I give up. Bring the next kid. This one's clearly on some kinda shit."

I stood up to leave, concealing a grin on my face. Plausible deniability, bitches!

…

NICK

The weed had worn off… and so I was feeling the full pain of my bullet wound. The lady police officer in front of me looked at me wound nervously. "You okay?"

I grunted. "I'll live."

"No… you sure you don't want some ice on that, or something?"

I raised my eyebrows. "You want to know who did this to me?"

She looked uncomfortable. "If this is something to do with gangs, you're in the wrong spot, you should really go down to the Assault –"

"It was him," I said fiercely, pointing to the mirror which GH was standing behind. "He shot me. While we were trying to get away from his right-hand-man, who had a whip. You want to arrest someone, arrest them."

She laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, Mr. Walker, could you please lean back a little bit? Also, where's the proof of the weapons?"

"Well, of course they're not going to be carrying the weapons around with them!" I said, exasperated.

"Mr. Walker, I understand if you want to protect the members of your gang. I know you might have taken a blood oath, but you can't pin your gang-related violence on an innocent high school vice principal –"

"I'm not part of any fucking gang! Is it the leather jacket that makes you think that? Then why doesn't everyone think Matthew McConaughey's part of a gang? And the man hiding like a coward behind that glass is the least innocent man on the planet, I can tell you –"

"Calm down, Mr. Walker," the officer said nervously. "If there's no evidence, we can't convict anyone. Innocent until proven guilty."

I stared at her, furious. Because that sure wasn't the case in my sorry life.

…

CELESTE

"Name?"

"Celeste Marie Wilkins."

The officer raised his eyebrow. "Wilkins… from the Wilkins family?"

"Depends," I said. "Are you going to call my parents?"

"I don't know. Do I have a reason to?" he asked me. "Do you admit to blowing up the school hallway with your friends?"

I snorted. "You're not getting a confession out of me that easily. I won't give in unless you have concrete proof that I did something wrong."

He crossed his arms. "What are you planning to do in the meantime?"

I shrugged. "Sit here, stare at you, maybe intimidate you a little… You're getting uncomfortable already, I can tell."

"You know there's nothing stopping me from calling your parents, right?"

"They won't come," I said, shrugging. "They're already too busy managing two high-profile careers and an autistic child to boot. They don't really give a crap about me, and I don't think they'll give a crap about this unless it directly correlates to their images or something."

"So is that why you did this? For attention?"

"Listen, you little –" I stopped myself just in time from swearing in front of an officer, although I gave him my best glare. "Weren't you listening earlier? I did this to survive detention."

"And why did you get put in detention in the first place?"

My eyes flashed. "We're done here."

He winced as I stood up and made for the door. "Answer my question, Celeste."

"Don't call me Celeste," I snapped. "Only my friends can call me Celeste. And… I only have five friends –and you're not one of them."

…

JAMES

I drummed my fingers on the chipped interrogation table, exhaling. The chair in front of me was empty, and rolled my eyes when I noticed that it was past five o'clock on the analog clock on the wall. Detention was over, so why was I still in here?

Why was I still in a hellhole? Different hellhole, but still.

"You know, I can't believe this is happening," I said out loud. "I deserve better than this –we all do. Why do you all think teenagers are horrible kids? You haven't even listened to our side of the story. Seriously –I wouldn't blow up a part of my school for no reason."

"If you had told me this before today, I might have believed you,"

I sat up straighter automatically, looking around for the disembodied voice before I found the source –a little loudspeaker in the wall. "Yeah? Why –are you PMSing today?"

"You were a good kid, James. A star soccer player, on track to get plenty of scholarships… and then you had to go and ruin it all."

The voice was horribly familiar. I frowned at the speaker in the wall. "You can't tell me I ruined it. I didn't ruin anything. I only did what I had to do to live. The man had a fucking gun, and you don't even have him in cuffs."

"You shouldn't be worrying about your vice principal. You should be worrying about yourself."

I scowled. "Why?"

"Because…" A tall shadow stood at the entrance to the interrogation room, and my eyes widened when I recognized the same red-blonde hair, although his was streaked with gray.

"Oh my God," I whispered. This was definitely a hellhole.

"… I am your father," he finished, sitting down in front of me. I took a deep breath and forced myself to look my dad in the eyes.

I wonder if he knew that he had just repeated the same iconic lines from Star Wars. Because I knew exactly how Luke Skywalker must have felt at that moment –blindsided as hell.

…

MONIQUE

"I ran the plates in the car parked outside, Monique. And the car is registered to you."

I grinned to myself. I freaking drove the getaway car. My life was getting so cool in the past day alone, and I was also probably going to get arrested. Win some, lose some. I plastered a regretful expression onto my face. "I know it's mine. Are you going to impound the car? Because I don't know how I'll get to school on Monday if you do. I can't take the bus, okay? Only the freshmen and the social rejects take the bus. Do I look like either of those to you? Of course I don't. I better not look like a damn social reject, not after all that money I spent on this outfit, and this makeup, and my car, which you guys have unfairly taken from me. I know my rights. I'm not stupid. You can't keep that car without probable cause, and accusing six kids of blowing up a hallway isn't good enough. So unless you get concrete evidence, you can't keep me or my car here."

The officer sitting across from me looked simply dumbfounded. I leaned back in my seat, satisfied. When I started talking, I could talk. I could talk circles around anyone else that dared to challenge me. It was why people didn't want me in their class for Socratic seminars, or for debates. I was just such a talkative person… and I had finally come into my own.

"Monique… we do have evidence," the officer finally said, holding out a plastic bag. I leaned forward, smirking, sure that it was going to be something stupid like a sock or something that was so generic that it could belong to anyone, and I'd deny that it was mine.

Except, what she was holding out wasn't a sock. It wasn't anything generic. It wasn't even anything specific, like a credit card or a drivers' license. And jeez, I was wishing to high heaven that it was a credit card.

She was holding a used condom.

How could I be so fucking stupid?

I'm sorry for the late update! I'm currently working on three other stories besides this one, so I kind of forgot about it. Anyways, things are happening, which is exciting! And more things are going to happen, too. Lots of things. I'm nervous for the ending, to be honest, because it's really risky... but enough about the near future -what did you guys think?

And this late update thing will never happen again because there are only a handful of chapters left, and I have no excuses not to update!