"Tomorrow we have our trial with the accused being Mr. Dues, the judge being myself, and our first ever trial lawyers: Mr. Haley our prosecutor and Miss Rushton our defense attorney," the teacher, Mr. Baldasare said just before the bell rang. "Class dismissed! Miss Rushton please see me!"
Rakel Rushton, whom everyone called Rikki, was the most potential student at Harvard Law School. Ever since she was a little girl she'd wanted to be a lawyer because both of her parents were trial lawyers. She had light-brown hair that was very thick and came down to the middle of her back with blonde streaks. She had very light blue eyes that could have been mistaken for turquoise. She was quite curvy for her age of twenty-four and she had a flat stomach (she loved working out). The men of Harvard Law always classified Rikki as "the stripper type".
"What do you need help with now Mr. B?" Rikki quipped as she gathered her books and headed down the stairs toward his desk.
"Very funny Miss Rushton," Mr. Baldasare sighed. Rikki giggled and set her books on his desk.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asked. Rikki smiled.
"You bet," she replied.
"Can't wait to see it."
"Thank you sir," Rikki said.
"Get outta here," Mr. Baldasare said, smiling and nodded his head toward the door.
Rikki grinned as she picked up her books and headed out of the building toward her 2002 white Mustang Cobra. She threw her books in the backseat, got in, and sped off leaving skid marks behind her. She drove for a little while before coming to a red light. She grabbed her CD case and quickly flipped through the pages. She came to her Motley Crue CD and immediately popped it in, letting "Kickstart My Heart" blare through the opened windows.
"Hey baby!" a male voice yelled. Rikki looked out her window and saw her friend Jesse in his 1969 Charger.
"Hey baby, where you been?" she yelled back.
"Around," Jesse replied. "How's school?"
"One more year and I'll be defending your ass," Rikki joked. The light turned green and Rikki pulled out.
"Later!" she yelled. She listened to the same song on repeat the whole way to her house.
She pulled in the driveway and got out. As she walked up the hill to her door she searched her pockets for her house keys and she found nothing. She searched her car and realized her keys were gone, disappeared. She popped her trunk and pulled out a folding table with various tools. She kneeled in front of her door and laid the tools on the ground. She pulled out a very small, but sharp knife and a misshaped paper clip. She stuck them in the keyhole and began turning them slowly... nothing happened.
"Ok you little bastard," Rikki whispered to herself. She put the knife and paper clip away and pulled out a small drill that resembled a Phillips head screwdriver. She stuck it in the keyhole and applied slight pressure to the button, turning it on. It turned slowly and she heard the lock click. She smiled as she put her tools away and opened the door.
"I am the best," she said, sitting in her chair.
Rakel Rushton, whom everyone called Rikki, was the most potential student at Harvard Law School. Ever since she was a little girl she'd wanted to be a lawyer because both of her parents were trial lawyers. She had light-brown hair that was very thick and came down to the middle of her back with blonde streaks. She had very light blue eyes that could have been mistaken for turquoise. She was quite curvy for her age of twenty-four and she had a flat stomach (she loved working out). The men of Harvard Law always classified Rikki as "the stripper type".
"What do you need help with now Mr. B?" Rikki quipped as she gathered her books and headed down the stairs toward his desk.
"Very funny Miss Rushton," Mr. Baldasare sighed. Rikki giggled and set her books on his desk.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asked. Rikki smiled.
"You bet," she replied.
"Can't wait to see it."
"Thank you sir," Rikki said.
"Get outta here," Mr. Baldasare said, smiling and nodded his head toward the door.
Rikki grinned as she picked up her books and headed out of the building toward her 2002 white Mustang Cobra. She threw her books in the backseat, got in, and sped off leaving skid marks behind her. She drove for a little while before coming to a red light. She grabbed her CD case and quickly flipped through the pages. She came to her Motley Crue CD and immediately popped it in, letting "Kickstart My Heart" blare through the opened windows.
"Hey baby!" a male voice yelled. Rikki looked out her window and saw her friend Jesse in his 1969 Charger.
"Hey baby, where you been?" she yelled back.
"Around," Jesse replied. "How's school?"
"One more year and I'll be defending your ass," Rikki joked. The light turned green and Rikki pulled out.
"Later!" she yelled. She listened to the same song on repeat the whole way to her house.
She pulled in the driveway and got out. As she walked up the hill to her door she searched her pockets for her house keys and she found nothing. She searched her car and realized her keys were gone, disappeared. She popped her trunk and pulled out a folding table with various tools. She kneeled in front of her door and laid the tools on the ground. She pulled out a very small, but sharp knife and a misshaped paper clip. She stuck them in the keyhole and began turning them slowly... nothing happened.
"Ok you little bastard," Rikki whispered to herself. She put the knife and paper clip away and pulled out a small drill that resembled a Phillips head screwdriver. She stuck it in the keyhole and applied slight pressure to the button, turning it on. It turned slowly and she heard the lock click. She smiled as she put her tools away and opened the door.
"I am the best," she said, sitting in her chair.
