Chapter Seven; Rebel, rebel; where art thou?

Considering we went willingly, we weren't handcuffed and given the speech all criminals are made to hear but we did get the shameful ride to the station in the back of the police car together. I stared out the window, my heart still racing wildly, my stomach in knots. It was a ten minute drive yet it felt like an eternity. I glanced over at Shawn who was sitting with his hands on his lap and his head hanging low.

"Shawn, are you okay?" I whispered.

Shawn looked over at me and then shrugged. The police officer turned his head but then continued driving.

"Yeah, I just feel awful for getting you into this mess. It's expected of me, but not from you."

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Shawn hung his head again. "Look where you live and who you know, people will always expect more of you."

I scoffed and then laughed. "If only you knew half of it, Shawn."

Soon enough, we arrived at the station and followed the officer inside. I hung my head in shame and waited for whatever was going to happen next. Watching multiple officers walk past us and give us the heart wrenching, gut twisting stare down was even more awful then the car ride. I looked at Shawn, who looked back and dug his hands deep into his pockets, and then started to pick at my nails.

"Evenin' Campbell, what's the 411 tonight?" The security guard smiled at him from behind the large front desk, protected by what I was assuming was bullet proof glass. I could tell he was surrounded by at least a hundred different papers and I suddenly felt bad for him.

"There are the kids causing trouble down by the trailer park. Is Marks on duty?" The officer spoke.

The security guard flipped through a bunch of papers, chewed on the end of his pen and then slowly shook his head. "Nope, looks like he isn't on til tomorrow. You're stuck with Doyle tonight."

The large man let out a grunt. "Oh joy. Alright kids, this way." He held his hands in front of him and the closed door in front of us opened. Shawn didn't even hesitate and walked right through; I however did. "Well, we haven't got all day." Annoyance rang through his voice as clear as day. I frowned some more and slowly proceeded through. If I frowned anymore, I was sure my eyebrows would get stuck that way.

"Alright Hunter," the Officer adjusted his rather large belt buckle and hiked up the front of his pants, wiped his nose and then point to a shut door that had the number 1 in big bold letters on it. "You go into that room." He turned his head and pointed to another door not too far away that looked identical except with the number 2 instead. "And you go in that one, young lady." Shawn nodded and started to go towards it. I shook my head.

"Wait, what? But I don't want to go alone." I nearly whined.

"Should've thought about that before then, shouldn't you've?" He smirked. He pointed again. "Off you go Hunter." Shawn and I made eye contact for a brief second before he hung his head again and did as he was told. I pouted and crossed my arms.

"Who are you to tell anyone what to do? Don't we have rights or something? You're nothing but a patrol guard, or security guard. Whatever floats your boat," Whoa, there Sarah. What the hell are you doing? I thought quickly but still my face never changed. My pout went to an instant sour look as did my attitude.

"I'd watch what yourself. I'm not a security guard, I am an officer of the law, hence why I have the power I do over a couple of delinquents such as yourself. Now if you're smart, you'll go. This is your first warning." He was ten times bigger than I was but for some reason I wasn't afraid. The muscles on his arms alone were bigger then my head, he was bald and had light blue eyes. He reminded me a lot of Steve Wilkos and I couldn't help but smirk at the mere thought of it.

"What happens when I reach my third warning? I'll get put on a time-out?" I asked, in a mocking like tone. I shocked myself at that one. I had no idea what was coming over me, nor where it was coming from. But it felt kind of good. I wasn't sure if that was such a good thing however around an officer. Maybe Shawn was rubbing off on me a bit more then I realized and was my influence. It was a strong possibility but I didn't have time to debate it in my head before he spoke again.

"If you want to call being held in a cell for the entire night a time-out, then yes." He smiled. "That's exactly what will happen." He crossed his arm and pointed towards the door again. "Second warning."

I glared some more but eventually did as I was told. Something about spending the night where I'm sure real criminals were at one point, didn't appeal well to me. I made it to the room, opened the door and then slammed it shut. I just wanted to scream in frustration. I wasn't a criminal. I didn't kill anyone. I was just a teenager getting into a little bit of trouble. I didn't hurt anyone. I didn't understand the whole need for questioning and separation. 'What a joke.' I thought. I looked around and saw nothing but egg white walls that needed to be washed, a large table and two uncomfortable looking chairs sitting across from each other. There was also a random brown bookshelf in the corner filled with magazines and random books but that was it. It was cold and unwelcoming; just my luck. I paced around but quickly found my seat when the door opened five minutes later; the officer from before stepped in and was followed by another large man with bushy black hair and dark brown eyes. His tag read Doyle and I knew it was the other officer that Campbell wasn't too fond of.

"You'll be speaking with Officer Doyle." And at that, he turned around and left, shutting the door behind him. Officer Doyle stepped forward, sat across from me and set down a small brown folder he was holding.

"Hello," he said. His voice wasn't as deep as I thought it was going to be and closer up, his eyes weren't as dark and mean looking either. "I'm Officer Doyle, as you now know." He said looking down at his tag. "I'm just here to ask you a few questions about what happened tonight." I remained silent and locked my eyes on him as timidly as I could.

"Firstly, just so you're aware, we are being recorded." He pointed upwards at a camera that rotated back and forth every so often. "And that's just for the protection for both of us. And to of course, record what you've said so that no one can try and mix up your story, okay?" He more or less told me then asked but I was okay with it. I nodded.

"So let's start with your name," Doyle grabbed a pen from the front pocket of his uniform, grabbed his notebook and got ready to scribble down my information.

"Sarah," I said gruffly. He quickly wrote down my name and then waited for the rest of it. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, slumping in my chair. "Makinley"

He nodded, wrote down the rest, got my birthday and then began his questionnaire. "So Sarah, what were you doing tonight?"

I suddenly realized something. "Can I ask you something first?"

Taken a bit off guard, he raised his eyebrow and then nodded. "Sure,"

"How did Officer Campbell know my friend's name?"

Officer Doyle smiled a bit. "Everyone here knows Shawn."

"Why? Is it because he's a bad kid?" I wondered.

"I wouldn't say that. It's because he's a Hunter. His last name has a reputation."

"So that makes it okay just to assume that he is one? A bad kid I mean,"

I could tell I was beginning to annoying him. He put the pen down, pushed his chair back and crossed his arms almost in sync to mine. "Look, regardless of what we think of you, or your friend, you're both not here because of reputations, you're here to be questioned about an apparent vandalism attempt."

"It matters to me." I said softly, slouching even more in my chair.

Doyle sighed. "So, as I asked you before, what were you doing tonight?"

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously I was hanging out with Shawn."

"This late at night? Don't you both have school in the morning?"

"So what?" I grumbled.

"So, shouldn't you both be at home, sleeping or studying at least?" To his question I didn't respond. "Let me rephrase that. Do your parents know you're out so late?"

I sat up a bit straight in my chair and kept my arms crossed. "I don't live with my parents. I live with my aunt." I told him.

"Does she know you're out this late?"

"No." I responded without hesitation.

"Mmm," he mumbled. He leaned forward, grabbed his pen, put it to his lip and then looked at me after putting it down again. "Okay, Sarah. Let's just get to the point. Did you or Shawn spray the Kiener's residence?"

I leaned forward. "Yes, I did."

Doyle nodded and then sat back again. It was almost as if he couldn't sit still. "Well, that isn't the story we got."

"Well, then the story you got, isn't the real one. I did it. Do you want to check my writing for proof?"

Sighing, Doyle continued to sit the way he was. "Look, Shawn is telling a different tune. He says you guys were hanging out, he's the one that found the spray paint and he's the one that did it. Why would he lie?"

"Why would I?" I countered back.

"I would assume to cover Shawn, maybe. To make sure he stays out of trouble. It's what girlfriends do, rig-"

"Whoa, whoa. I'm not Shawn's girlfriend. I barely know him." I argued. "We're friends, yes. If I were going to cover for him, don't you think I would have come up with something better than I did it?"

"Not if you figure if the blame is on you, then he's free."

I scoffed. "Trust me it's not like that at all. Can I just go home, please? I'm tired. My aunt's probably worried about me. I'm sorry, okay?"

Doyle ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry but until we get the story straight and figure out a punishment, since vandalism is illegal, you can't leave."

"Don't you need a warrant or something to keep me?"

"You watch a lot of television, don't you?" He laughed. I stayed silent. "I'm going to go and call your aunt, alright? That way she isn't worried and can come and pick you up when you're done here. In the meantime, please, try and think up a better story." And at that, he stood up, collected his folder, notebook and pen and headed to the door. "Your telephone number, please."

"I don't know it off by heart," I said truthfully. "I've only been there a couple of weeks. Everything is still new," Doyle nodded in response, as if actually believing me and then left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "And it wasn't a made up story either," I mumbled. It took a few seconds to register but when it did, I sunk as deep as I possibly could into my chair and let my head fall back with a small whimper. My aunt was going to be woken up in the middle of the night, to be told her niece was at a police stationbecause she couldn't stay inside the house, of which she was already grounded to, and keep her dirty mitts to herself. It was going to go over like a fart in church, I just knew it. The one thing I dreaded most in the 16 years I had been alive, and even to this day, was waiting for my aunt to arrive.

After an excoriating twenty minutes, she arrived and everything eventually got sorted out. Shawn and I both got equal punishments since neither of us changed our story about it being our own fault. We were ordered to clean off all of the graffiti on the Kiener's house, even if it wasn't ours and were ordered to do 20 hours of community service; yippee. It wasn't like we had much choice to object which I became okay with pretty quickly. It could have been much worse, really. As I followed my aunt out in shame, I glanced down the hallway and saw Shawn waiting to leave as well. I figured he was more than likely told to not have any confrontation with me unless it was outside of the station but I knew what my aunt's reaction would be so after flashing him a warm, what can you do? smile; I proceeded to follow her and got into her rickety old car. The entire time at the station, she hadn't said a word to me and I knew she wouldn't in the car either. I had never seen her as angry and disappointed as she was right then and there. The emotions were written all over her face and she didn't even have to say a word for me to know it. I braced myself for the yelling and lecture at home and aimlessly stared out the car window as it began to lightly spit rain.

Fifteen minutes later we arrived and she still hadn't said a word. I got out of the car, got into the house, kicked my shoes off and attempted to dash up the stairs to avoid it all together but by the second step, she stopped me. She grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me back down the stairs. I nearly lost my footing but caught it almost right away. I looked at her in shock and the once so loving and caring look in her eyes was completely gone. Her eyes were dark; nearly foggy. She had dark bags under her eyes and her hair was a mess. It looked as if she hadn't slept in weeks, but I knew it was because she had become so stressed out.

"Get into the living room and sit down. I'm going to make a coffee and we are going to talk." And at that, she stormed off into the kitchen and began making herself a cup. She never drank coffee, so I knew how bad it was really going to be. Feeling two inches tall, I slugged my way to the living room and plopped down on the couch. I sat cross legged and picked at my feet. The wait was almost even worse than the wait at the cop shop. I had never seen her angry before and I was scared. To be more scared of your flesh and blood then of a cop who could throw you away in the slammer and take away your freedom in definitely just proved how bad I really felt. After a few minutes, she came into the room, stirring her caffeinated drink. She set it down, took a deep breath and then smacked me across the head. I let out a yelp in surprise and then held my head, tears almost immediately forming in my eyes.

"Why di-" I tried to ask but she cut me off.

"What the hell were you thinking!?" She screamed. I cringed and continued to cover my head. "You have NO idea what kinds of people are out there, Sarah! What would have happened if some random guy decided he wanted to take you, huh? What would have happened if the person belonging to the house you so stupidly spray painted was some stupid thug who didn't care if you breathed for another minute!? What about if you got hurt and no one was around to help you? Do you think you're invincible?" She cried. I stayed silent, tears staining my cheeks. "Do you!?"

"No." I shook my head; trying to swallow back every emotion that swam through me.

"I have rules for a reason!" When I had cautiously looked up at her, she was crying as well. "You are a child, Sarah. A CHILD!" she continued. "I know you're trying to prove something, to find yourself, but doing stupid things like this is not the answer! First it's spray painting, and then what? What next, huh?" She took a deep breath and then got down on her knees in front of me. "I'm sorry for hitting you but you need to learn. You need to learn that it is NOT okay to do things like this." Her eyes pleaded and her mouth quivered but I went back to being quiet. "Now, go to your room. I'll figure out your punishment tomorrow." Her voice had gone back to the normal voice I had always been so used to, except the disappointment was clear. "Go." She whispered. I got up and ran up the stairs, nearly missing a few because I had practically flown up them. I got into my room, shut my door and dived onto my bed and shoved my face into my pillow. I don't think I had ever cried that hard in my life, ever.

The light from morning spilled into my room. I groaned and rolled to my side, away from the window. Oh how I loathed mornings. My alarm clock blared and I groaned again; just one thing to another, right? I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed my clothes for school and groggily made it to the washroom. I took a quick shower, finished up my business, brushed my teeth and hair and then quickly got dressed. I picked out a pair of white denim jeans, a light red tank top that had ruffles in the front with matching white polka dots and a simple pair of socks. I put my hair into pig tails, quickly changed my mind and then pulled it back into a braid. For not really trying, I didn't look horrible. I made my way down the stairs, grabbed my book bag, slipped on my sneakers and attempted to make it out the door unseen, but of course failed.

"Sarah," my aunt called out to me. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and turned around. She was sitting in the kitchen at the table, a cup in her hands and breakfast laid out for two; pancakes, fruit, toast and orange juice. I slowly made my way over to her and waited for her to continue. "I made you breakfast."

I looked at it and then back at her. "I'm not hungry," I simply said. Her face dropped a little and I felt bad, again.

"Oh," she trailed off. "Well, okay." She got up, grabbed my plate, wrapped it up and then stuck it in the fridge, along with the juice. "I'll put it away for later." When she turned back around, I nervously twiddled my fingers. "I haven't come up with a punishment yet," she said as if reading my mind. "But I do know that part of it is going to be staying away from that boy."

I had felt a bit better when she had told me a punishment hadn't come to mind but it quickly disappeared and sank along with my heart when she finished. "What? You can't do that. He's like my only friend. You can't." I nearly pleaded.

"It's too late, Sarah. I called around and got a hold of his parents this morning and they agree that you both are no good for each other. It's not a forever thing, just a for now thing." She explained.

I shook my head. "You may be my aunt and I may live under your roof, but you can't stop who I'm friends with. It's not like he's a drug lord. I'll be his friend and spend as much time as I want with him, whether you or those people like it or not." I argued. I could tell Aunt Julie was trying so hard to keep her cool and be understanding, patient and the authority figure all at once, but I didn't care. This wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry; it's the way it has to be. Unless you want to go back to Pittsburgh, I suggest you follow our rules. I will not have a rule breaker in my house who thinks she can walk all over me. Now go to school and come home right after. You're still grounded." She said firmly. "Have a good day, sweetie." She then moved past me, went up the stairs and shut her bedroom door behind her.

Why was she being so unreasonable!? I didn't understand it. I hated her. I hated everything. My eyes swelled again but I refused to let her see before she had gotten past me. I stormed off out of the house without another word and slammed the door as hard I could behind me. I knew I was over reacting a tad, but she also had no idea what it was like to have the only thing that made you feel secure, like you belonged, ripped away from you, all because of one silly mistake. This was going to be an awfully long day. I got to the school a lot faster then I normally did and made my way to my locker. I hit it as hard as I could and instead of opening to the trick I used daily to open it, it popped open even easier. I slammed my bag down, ripped open the zipper to it and began shoving my books inside of it. I was more angry then hurt at that point.

"Feisty this morning, are we blondie?" Jason's voice came. I was in no mood for his cockiness. I finished shoving my books inside, did the same with my backpack and then forced it shut. I shot him a glare and then began to proceed with my fit down the hall. He quickly stopped me.

"Whoa, slow down for a second." He called. I stopped unwillingly; the look on my face even more sour and unpleasant then before. "Are you okay?"

"Does it look like I'm alright, you dork?" I snarled. Jason chuckled at me.

"Want to talk about it?"

Weird; I was actually starting to calm down a bit already. "No." I said crossing my arms. He shot me a charming smirk.

"Well, how about we walk down to the lunch room together and if you feel like letting it out, I'll just casually be here to listen, okay?"

I said nothing but walked beside him, arms crossed still. He nodded at some people he knew, winked at a few girls and proceeded to be the character he was. I let out a frustrated grunt. "I hate people who try to control your life. I'm not perfect. I'm a teenager! I'm going to make mistakes. I'll never do this shit to my kids." I spat out. Jason listened, smirking like he tended to do a lot. "I mean, I just moved back here. I hardly know anyone and my stupid aunt is taking away my only friend. Topanga doesn't count because she's my cousin, and neither does Cory because he's her boyfriend so he has to be nice to me. It's not fair." I whined. I knew I sounded like a child mad over not getting her favourite candy but I truly didn't care. It felt good to vent. We made it to the café, he got a plate of scrambled eggs, toast and a juice bottle and we sat down together. I sat across from him and put my head in my hands, squishing my cheeks together.

"You know, you're kind of cute when you're mad," he teased, taking a bite of his eggs which was followed by a quick gulp of his drink.

"Shush," I said quickly. "This is no time for flattery. I'm angry." I grumbled. "But thank you."

Jason chuckled. "Anytime, you little rebel."

I frowned at him. "What?"

Jason took another bite. "Everyone knows what you did last night especially considering whose house it was. There are no secrets here."

"Oh joy." I let my head fall onto the table.

"So, you're confined to your house, huh?" he wondered. I nodded in response, letting my forehead hit the table. This was all I needed truly. I was going to be deemed a bad girl, or a stupid girl; either way, I had been there for a few weeks and my reputation was already shot. I didn't care much what other people thought, I never had, but when it came to a school full of hundreds of kids I had to see every day, it was a little much. "Feeling rebellious still?"

I slowly looked at him, furrowing my eyebrows. What could he have possibly meant? "Does it involve spray painting someone else's crap hole?" I wondered.

"Nah," Jason bit into his toast, nodded to another random person and then looked back at me, his eyes nearly twinkling. "Do you want to go out tonight?"

Well that I wasn't expecting. "And do what?"

"I'm the type of guy who lives my life minute by minute. I'm sure I'll think of something." He downed the rest of his food, dunked his juice bottle and then got up to put his tray back. I quickly followed. "That is, unless you're too chicken and your bad girl side disappeared last night," he teased challengingly.

"I'm not scared." I countered. "Where and when, Marsden? You're on."

Jason grinned. "4 o'clock, Chubbies. Don't be late." And at that, he left the café; leaving a stunned me standing there like a moron. What the heck had just happened? I wasn't sure if I had just been conned into a date I didn't know if I wanted or not, or if it was a game. Whatever it was though, it was bound to be interesting.