Chapter 12: Innocent or Guilty?
Darry was stunned. "No way!" he repeated, staring at the headline. "But…Soda, what does this have to do with—?"
"Just read it," Soda said frantically. "Read the whole article! I just don't wanna believe it, Darry," he said, sounding upset. "He seemed like such a great guy when we met him."
"It's gonna be okay, Soda," Darry tried to soothe his brother. "It's gonna be alright, Pepsi-Cola. It's gonna be okay…" Now he was just saying that to calm himself. Wait. We know the guy? Who? WHO?
"Darry? I've got to go. I'll call you later, okay?" Soda's voice sounded tinny and distant over the line. Darry could barely hear him. His ears were ringing as he read the rest of the article.
"University Student Arrested for Murder and Alleged Possession of Illegal Substances," the headline screamed in bold letters.
Darry hung up the phone when he realized he was hearing a dial tone, and sat down to continue reading.
"University of Chicago student Larry Hughes has been arrested on count of premeditated murder.
Hughes was allegedly stoned and with friends when he stabbed 22-year-old Alfonso Rodriguez, also a student of the university, outside a movie theater.
Hughes has been questioned and a trial date is yet to be made. His friends, Jason Shah, Nelson Williams and Roger Stanton, are suspected to be accomplices and have yet to be questioned…Story continued on page A8."
Darry dropped the newspaper, stunned. Roger Stanton? Lucky, accused of murder? Darry thought disbelievingly.
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Darry collapsed in a chair across from A.J. at the outdoors cafeteria at breakfast the next morning, and immediately demanded, "What's wrong?"
A.J. looked up at him, her mouth turned down. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and she looked like she hadn't gotten any sleep.
"Darry," she choked out. "It's Lucky…he's on trial for murder!" She broke out sobbing.
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A.J. couldn't help but cry. She hated herself for it, but it was too horrifying to be true. Lucky couldn't have killed anyone, A.J. told herself firmly.
Not Lucky. Not easygoing, dumb, sweet Lucky. Anybody but Lucky. But he was stoned. He didn't know what he was doing. What if he did? But he couldn't have…Could he? Oh, I'm so confused! A.J.'s head was spinning.
But he was there that night. He told me so himself. He was there with Speed and Skate, stoned like them. What if he was out of his mind and didn't know what he was doing?
Darry was looking at her concernedly. She put her head down. I probably look like my own evil twin, she thought, and then felt guilty for caring how she looked at a time like this.
"Where's Lucky?" Darry was asking. A.J. gulped and took a deep breath, looking up.
"He's at the station. The fuzz came for him last night. He's been there ever since. So has Speed and Skate. And Alfonso's dead," she choked out, hating herself for being do bloody emotional.
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Darry sat back in disbelief. Lucky was at the station. Lucky was accused of murder. It couldn't have been him. Could it?
Briefly he thought that A.J. was being very emotional, more so than usual. Then again, he reminded himself, she did love Lucky. He couldn't believe Lucky hadn't figured it out yet. Now he might never have to, Darry thought morbidly.
Darry went through the rest of his day in a daze. He didn't even care that he failed his calculus test, or about Ms. Hart's engagement. He just didn't care.
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Late that night, Darry was working on his physics paper when the dorm door slammed. He looked up and gasped.
"Lucky!" he exclaimed, his voice mingled with happiness and question. "How…um. How did it go?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Lucky looked worn out and a lot older then twenty-five. His eyes were slightly red, like A.J.'s. "They had to let me go. They didn't have anything on me. I mean, they did a test and they found out I was stoned that night, but they can't prove anything other than that."
"So?" Darry egged him on. "I didn't do it," Lucky insisted, like he had been saying it repeatedly for the past few hours.
"I didn't kill him. Alfonso was my friend. I would never do that to him, even stoned." Lucky finished with a sort of finality. He glanced at Darry.
"You do believe me, right?" he asked, almost pleadingly, like a small child.
Darry sighed. He didn't know what to believe anymore. He didn't want to think Lucky was a murderer, nor did he think Lucky was totally innocent.
So instead of answering, he said, "I have to finish this paper." He avoided Lucky's gaze carefully, who was sitting on his bed, looking young and vulnerable.
Did he do it? Darry wondered later, looking over at Lucky's sleeping form. Or didn't he?
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Whaddya think? It has to have some sort of plot. Tell me what you think, and I'll update soon.
