Thanks for all the great reviews. And Miss Suga I love you too. Josh and the people once again, I assure you I have no delusions about owning these characters.
Seth knew his parents weren't particularly strict. He knew he was lucky, because there was no doubt that they loved him and for the most part they let him do what he wanted. That's why they had let him go to ComicCon alone from the time he was fourteen and it was easy to wrangle permission for parties and concerts with a simple promise of being good and staying away from drinking and drugs. Some people considered him spoiled, but compared to most of his classmates he knew he wasn't spoiled, though he was probably among the luckier ones.
Growing up, Seth had never feared Sandy or Kirsten because they were loving, but firm. His parents had barely laid down the law. He really had to mess up for them to punish him, like the time he had helped Ryan run away and the model house burned down or when he had left while babysitting and came home at three in the morning. But from the time Seth had been in diapers Sandy had drilled in that there was no excuse for not respecting and obeying the law.
Shortly after his sixth birthday, before they had moved from Berkley to Newport, Seth had stolen a candy bar from the corner bodega. He had asked Kirsten if he could have it, but she had said no, because it would spoil his appetite for dinner. Seth had really wanted the candy so he had simply taken it and put it in his pocket, not really thinking about the consequences. Sandy had found it before Seth could eat it and it was the only time in Seth's memory that his father had raised a hand to his only son. After spanking Seth, Sandy had forced him to go back to the store and admit taking the candy to the store manager and offering to take whatever punishment the man could think up. Lucky for him, the manager just took back the candy and left it at that, sensing that Sandy would not leave the matter unpunished.
Perhaps it was the spanking, that had never been repeated, or perhaps it was the utter disappointment in his father's face when he had realized Seth had stolen, but that incident had left an indelible impression with Seth that always kept him on the right side of the law.
Now, in the dark dingy cell with the peeling paint and musty mattresses, Seth fervently wished he had a joint to calm his nerves. But that wasn't possible, because when the officer had frisked him, he had found Seth's roach, adding a charge of possession to his trouble. He knew he would have to face his parents before the night was over, and Seth wasn't sure if he could do it without some more marijuana in his system.
Sitting on the floor, with his legs bent and his head hanging between his knees, Seth tried to steady his trembling body. He took long deep breaths, trying to block out the stench of urine from the steel toilet bowl that was right beside him. He was alone. Mitch had been placed in an adjoining cell and Seth could only imagine what his friend was feeling.
The din of the jail, jangling keys, the squawking of the cops' radios, and the high-pitched singing of a drunk in a far off cell, couldn't drown out Seth's thoughts. He wished he had listened to Ryan and had stayed in that night. SethRyan time was long overdue and his brother had proffered his hand with a peace offering, ignoring all the rotten, ugly things Seth had said to him during the past few weeks. Seth had not been a brother to Ryan, not the way Ryan had been a brother to him.
"Cohen," bellowed one of the officers. Seth jerked his head up, wiping away the tears that welled up in the corner of his eyes and saw a broad-shouldered figure come up to the bars and insert a key. "Your parents are here."
When Kirsten had first said that Seth was calling from the police station, Sandy's stomach dropped to his toes as if he were on one of the amusement park rides where they dropped you from one hundred feet. He immediately thought the worst that his son had been in an accident and that he was hurt. Sandy had grabbed the nearest phone and breathlessly said, "hello." He could hear Kirsten's labored breathing on the other end. Or was it Seths'? He wasn't sure.
"Mom. Dad. I'm in trouble." Seth's voice had cracked. It was shaking and he couldn't continue.
Someone must have taken the phone from him, because an older more mature voice came on the line. "Mr. and Mrs. Cohen. I'm Officer Turner. Your son was arrested when caught stealing a street sign. But upon searching him we found drugs on his possession."
Sandy heard his wife gasp at the other end.
"Which precinct is he in? We'll be right down."
"Is Seth okay?" Ryan asked. He stood at the foot of the steps, looking pale and frightened.
"He's not hurt," Sandy reassured him. He was checking his pockets for his phone and keys. "Just in a world of trouble." He patted Ryan's shoulder. "Can you stay here with the baby? Mrs. Rothman will be here too, just in case."
"Of course," said Ryan. "Whatever you need me to do."
"Thank you, Ryan." Kirsten came up to him with a pocketbook slung over her shoulder. "I feel much better knowing you're here with the baby." She kissed his cheek lightly and then pulled her husband with her. "We have to go, Sandy."
Sandy's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel and navigated the roads to the precinct. He looked straight ahead at the road, not stealing any sideways glances at his wife, whom he suspected was doing the same. Their jaws were taut with both anger and worry.
"What are we going to do?" Kirsten asked, finally breaking the silence.
"First I'm going to see how we can get him out of this legal mess and then I'm going to kill him."
"They found drugs on him, Sandy."
"I know."
"I don't know if I want to smack him or hug him."
Sandy reached over and squeezed his wife's knee. "We'll get through this. Somehow."
Sandy was relieved that he recognized a few faces at the precinct. He knew that it was wrong to be so willing to get his son out of the legal trouble. Seth should be forced to face the consequences of his action, but Sandy didn't want a police record trailing Seth at this point of his life. It would ruin his chances of getting into any decent college. He couldn't do the same for Ryan when they had first met, but he knew he would do whatever he could to get any of his children out of trouble. And there was no way in hell that Seth would spend even a minute in Juvie if he could help it.
"Sandy Cohen. What brings you down here? I heard you left the PDs office and joined a private law firm."
Sandy's mouth spread into a wide smile. "Ben Murray. It's been too long." He took the beefy hand that was extended to him and pumped it up and down.
"So, one of your rich clients needs legal assistance? I heard we picked up two Newport teens tonight. They're in a holding cell right now."
Sandy scratched the back of his head, his smile quickly disappearing. "I'm afraid one of those teens is mine. Seth Cohen."
Officer Murray didn't answer, not sure what to say to his long time friend.
"This is my wife Kirsten," Sandy said, nudging his wife in front of him, saying something to end the awkward silence. "We came to get him."
Officer Murray picked up a sheaf of papers that was on a nearby desk. He flipped through the sheets until he found what he was looking for. "He was picked up for stealing a street sign. He had a can of spray paint in his possession and we found a joint in his pocket. We're waiting on the ADA for charges. But Sandy, I'd worry about the stop sign charge. It can be as simple as vandalism or it can turn into a felony count of reckless conduct."
Sandy rubbed his eyes with one hand and felt Kirsten's grip tighten around his other one. He hoped the ADA would be in a good mood.
"You may have some wiggle room," offered Officer Murray. "They were caught before the sign came down completely. Though by the officer's account, there's no question as to what they were up to."
"Thanks." He slapped Ben's arm in appreciation. "Who's the ADA on duty? Is he or she around? I'd like to talk."
"I'll go find someone."
As Ben Murray retreated, Kirsten turned to her husband. "It's bad, isn't it?"
Sandy nodded.
"I just want to see Seth."
"They'll have him in a cell alone. Let him stew a little. We're better off seeing him once we get the charges squared away." He kissed the top of Kirsten's head. "I'm going to make some calls. See what strings I can pull. Maybe we can work out a deal. Can you sit tight a little longer?"
Kirsten shook her head. "I want to see my son, Sandy. Now."
Sandy nodded his head, recognizing the determined look on his wife's face.
"I'll get one of the officers to take you to him."
Ryan couldn't sit still. He read the same paragraph in his history textbook six times before giving up. He cleaned up his room, putting away the clean laundry Rosa had piled on the top of his dresser, and balling up a pile of his dirty clothes and dumping it in the hamper. He had never been very messy, so cleaning up only occupied five minutes of his time. Sandy and Kirsten were probably just arriving at the precinct.
How long would it take them to figure out that Seth was using drugs? he wondered. One thing he was sure of, Seth would need a hit badly. In the past three weeks, the only time Seth wasn't on a high was in the morning when he first woke up. He would bet the first thing Seth would do when he got home was to look for his stash and light up.
Ryan knew what he had to do. He peeked into the nursery and watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Christina's chest for a full minute, before invading his brother's privacy. He started with Seth's desk and found nothing. He pulled out his dresser drawers and threw aside underwear, socks and tee shirts. Still Ryan found nothing. He looked through the closet and came up empty.
He knew Seth kept drugs in his room. The question was where. He stood in middle of the room and looked around. Someplace no one would look. Ryan's eyes fell on Seth's plastic horse. Captain Oats. He walked over to Seth's night table and picked up the horse. He shook it up and down and knew his instincts had been right. He twisted off the horse's head and found six rolled joints inside.
Ryan took the horse into the bathroom, shook the marijuana out over the toilet and flushed. He put the head back on the horse and returned it to Seth's night table. At least Seth would be forced to face his parents without his crutch. Now all Ryan had to do was watch the clock and wait for his family to come back from the police station.
"Mom." Seth walked out of his cell straight into his mother's arms. He felt like he was five-years-old again as he fell into his mother's embrace. "I'm sorry."
"Seth, what has gotten into you?" Kirsten asked after hugging him tightly. She pushed him away and put her hands on his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. She wore a no nonsense look on her face. The look that had always made Seth spill the truth as a child.
"You were grounded. So you snuck out of the house and went to steal street signs?" She asked, when her son didn't answer. "And you had drugs on you. Were they yours? Or were you holding it for your friend?"
Seth looked at his feet. He didn't know how to answer.
"Talk to me, Seth." Kirsten's voice bounced on the walls and made her son shake. "Look at me now. Were the drugs yours?" She put her hand under his chin and pushed it up so that his eyes met hers. She didn't miss the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. "Were the drugs yours?" She repeated, her voice leaving no room for excuses.
"Yes," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Kirsten closed her eyes. "Are you addicted?"
Seth shook his head. "I just like to have a hit every once in a while."
"Did you use tonight?" Her hand was still planted firmly on Seth's chin, so he couldn't avert his gaze.
"Yes."
"Well that explains how you could have done such a stupid ass thing like try to steal a street sign. A stop sign! What would happen if some innocent motorist drove through the intersection and barreled into an oncoming car? Were you even thinking? Or was your brain to addled from marijuana?"
"I'm sorry Mom."
"I don't know if you are, but you will be."
Seth didn't want to think about what his parents would do. Right now, he wanted to go home and find a joint. Behind his mother, Seth saw someone else walk in. Kirsten followed her son's eyes and saw that Sandy had joined them.
"Dad."
"Seth." Sandy stepped forward but didn't take Seth into his arms, even though he sensed that's what Seth wanted. Truth be told, that's what Sandy wanted too. He wanted to scoop up Seth and tell him everything would be all right, but at this moment, Sandy didn't trust himself. He was too angry.
"I'm sorry."
"I know." Sandy stepped forward, standing behind his wife. "Who was your friend?"
"Mitch Weider."
Sandy nodded. It was what he expected.
"I'm in a lot of trouble. Aren't I?"
"I spoke to my friend in the DA's office. There won't be any drug charges. And you'll be charged with misdemeanor vandalism for trying to steal the stop sign. You'll probably get probation and community service."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me now."
Seth tried to ignore the steely edge in Sandy's voice. He didn't see any of the usual love and concern his father had in his eyes, even when he was angry with Seth.
"What about Mitch?"
"He didn't have any drugs on him, so obviously there won't be any drug charges. The other charges will be the same."
"Will you get him out tonight?"
Sandy wondered why his son was so concerned about Mitch. Was it a delay tactic?
"He can go as soon as he's released into the care of a parent or guardian."
"Dad, you have to call Mr. Weider."
"I don't have to do anything, Seth."
Seth swallowed. "I- I'm sorry." He should have figured that anything he said could set his father off.
"The police would have called Mr. Weider, just like they called me," Sandy explained, his voice growing softer.
"You just don't know Mr. Weider like I do." Seth thought back to when Mitch's father walked in on them while they were doing drugs.
"I'll call," Sandy said giving in, realizing how anxious Seth was about his friend. And Sandy still didn't like to see kids locked up in jail, unless there was absolutely no recourse. He pulled out his phone and dialed Andrew Weider's number.
Seth could only hear Sandy's side of the conversation, but from the look on his face and Sandy's anxious voice, Seth knew he had been right to worry. Andrew Weider was not like other fathers. He was a cold, heartless man, who was out for his own self-interest. He wondered how this man had gotten his license to parent.
"You understand that he won't be released until you pick him up. Yes, I understand," Sandy was saying, "but in my professional experience, I'm telling you that lock-up is no place for a seventeen-year-old boy… Okay. I understand." Sandy pressed the end button on his phone and snapped it shut. "He wants Mitch to spend the night. He'll pick him up in the morning." Sandy shook his head.
"But Dad—"
"There's nothing I can do, Seth," snapped Sandy. "I tried. My only concern now is you." He took Seth roughly by the arm and pulled him along. "We're going home now. We have court in the morning."