Conceal, Chapter One
Hello! I'm finally back. I don't know how long it can be until I manage to add another chapter (maybe this weekend, but probably won't pick up until school ends on May 28th) but review and I'll try to get more up!
Summary: Detectives wonder if a sixteen-year-old jock has told the whole truth when he reports abuse in his high school.
"Arrington, Brandon," the coach called. Everyone's heads turned when Brandon didn't yell out "here". "Hey coach he was here earlier," Adam Ogletree, one of Brandon's best friends, called out. Coach Collins put an 'x' next to Brandon's name and wondered. Brandon was never absent on practice days. "He should be here," Derrick, Brandon's seventeen-year-old brother, called out. "He better not be screwin' around. We have work to do," the coach mumbled.
"Nah, he wouldn't miss a practice. Something's wrong," Derrick persisted. "Arrington! Stop over-reacting. Brandon'll come, or maybe he got held late for a teacher. Arrington, Derrick-well of course you're already here," Coach Collins mumbled and checked his name off.
"Beardsley, Michael. Brazen, Curtis. Chuck, Steven..." Coach Collins went through the entire role. Brandon still hadn't shown up. "A mile, you have six minutes."
The team groaned but got up and began running the task of four laps. Even Collins had began to worried when shaggy-haired Brandon still hadn't shown up.
When most of the team had began their third lap, Brandon finally showed up. His face was chalk-white and he was sweaty. "Arrington! Where've you been?" Brandon just shook his head. "What's wrong?" Collins asked. Brandon turned around and Collins thought he was just collecting himself. Instead, he lost it and threw up all over the track. Derrick came running over. "Brandon, what's wrong?" He demanded. The team crowded around.
Brandon was lanky-around 5"9 and very skinny. He seemed even more so as the team herded around him. "Willard-Kristen. Oh, God-" Brandon threw up again. "Who are they? What's wrong?" Coach Collins demanded.
Brandon fell to the ground. "Someone get-"Collins started but Brandon shook his head. "No I'm fine...I, I've got to go, though," Brandon said and stood up. "Brandon!" Derrick screamed, "don't you dare leave!"
The team watched as Brandon sprinted toward the parking lot.
It was a slow day, for once. Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson were sitting at their desks, going through routine paperwork. John Munch and "Fin" were doing the same. Cragen walked up.
"You know how you said it may just be a slow day?" Cragen asked. "Uh-oh," Benson mumbled. "That can't be good," Munch agreed. "What's up?" Fin asked. "There's some kid in the interrogation room. Look's really shaken up; said he saw something and doesn't know what else to do."
Stabler and Benson followed Cragen to the back room, where the kid should have been. "Where is he?" Stabler asked, motioning towards the empty seat.
"He was just here!" Cragen said angrily, walking towards the table. On the table was a piece of notebook paper; standard for the local students. On the paper were just a couple of initials: BMHS.
"What does that stand for?" Benson wondered out loud. "I have one guess," Stabler offered. "What?"
"Bert Memorial High School. My daughter goes there. If it's a kid, maybe he got scared and ditched."
"Check it out. Bring back a yearbook, if they've issued them. I'm pretty sure I can identify him. If I can't, we'll check out something else." Cragen ordered.
slow start, but review please
Hello! I'm finally back. I don't know how long it can be until I manage to add another chapter (maybe this weekend, but probably won't pick up until school ends on May 28th) but review and I'll try to get more up!
Summary: Detectives wonder if a sixteen-year-old jock has told the whole truth when he reports abuse in his high school.
"Arrington, Brandon," the coach called. Everyone's heads turned when Brandon didn't yell out "here". "Hey coach he was here earlier," Adam Ogletree, one of Brandon's best friends, called out. Coach Collins put an 'x' next to Brandon's name and wondered. Brandon was never absent on practice days. "He should be here," Derrick, Brandon's seventeen-year-old brother, called out. "He better not be screwin' around. We have work to do," the coach mumbled.
"Nah, he wouldn't miss a practice. Something's wrong," Derrick persisted. "Arrington! Stop over-reacting. Brandon'll come, or maybe he got held late for a teacher. Arrington, Derrick-well of course you're already here," Coach Collins mumbled and checked his name off.
"Beardsley, Michael. Brazen, Curtis. Chuck, Steven..." Coach Collins went through the entire role. Brandon still hadn't shown up. "A mile, you have six minutes."
The team groaned but got up and began running the task of four laps. Even Collins had began to worried when shaggy-haired Brandon still hadn't shown up.
When most of the team had began their third lap, Brandon finally showed up. His face was chalk-white and he was sweaty. "Arrington! Where've you been?" Brandon just shook his head. "What's wrong?" Collins asked. Brandon turned around and Collins thought he was just collecting himself. Instead, he lost it and threw up all over the track. Derrick came running over. "Brandon, what's wrong?" He demanded. The team crowded around.
Brandon was lanky-around 5"9 and very skinny. He seemed even more so as the team herded around him. "Willard-Kristen. Oh, God-" Brandon threw up again. "Who are they? What's wrong?" Coach Collins demanded.
Brandon fell to the ground. "Someone get-"Collins started but Brandon shook his head. "No I'm fine...I, I've got to go, though," Brandon said and stood up. "Brandon!" Derrick screamed, "don't you dare leave!"
The team watched as Brandon sprinted toward the parking lot.
It was a slow day, for once. Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson were sitting at their desks, going through routine paperwork. John Munch and "Fin" were doing the same. Cragen walked up.
"You know how you said it may just be a slow day?" Cragen asked. "Uh-oh," Benson mumbled. "That can't be good," Munch agreed. "What's up?" Fin asked. "There's some kid in the interrogation room. Look's really shaken up; said he saw something and doesn't know what else to do."
Stabler and Benson followed Cragen to the back room, where the kid should have been. "Where is he?" Stabler asked, motioning towards the empty seat.
"He was just here!" Cragen said angrily, walking towards the table. On the table was a piece of notebook paper; standard for the local students. On the paper were just a couple of initials: BMHS.
"What does that stand for?" Benson wondered out loud. "I have one guess," Stabler offered. "What?"
"Bert Memorial High School. My daughter goes there. If it's a kid, maybe he got scared and ditched."
"Check it out. Bring back a yearbook, if they've issued them. I'm pretty sure I can identify him. If I can't, we'll check out something else." Cragen ordered.
slow start, but review please