𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞

                                    

                                          
The cop presses the record button on the cassette recorder and starts talking to me. 
                          
"Interview with August Leora. Sunday, October 2nd, 1994. Wanna tell me what happened?" Officer Goode asks me. 
                          
I give him a blank stare. "We were picking up Sam's prescription, and then the lights turned off. We couldn't see anything. We ran and ducked behind a counter because we didn't know what was going on. We hid until it was over."
                          
He nods his head, obviously not believing me. "How'd you get that?" He asks, referring to my ankle that's wrapped up. 
                          
"Fell on some glass."
                          
"August, you were found by your friend, Simon's, parents loaded up on some type of drug or something. You couldn't even stand straight," He says to me. 
                          
I shrug my shoulders. "It was just shock, I guess."
                          
He sighs a leans his head back. "Look, I'll tell you what the facts tell me. The junkie-"
                          
"Don't fucking call her that," I snap at him. He continues talking, like I didn't even interrupt him. "She's to blame for everything. That feels too easy to me, but that's the story this department will go with unless you can help me see it differently."
                          
I let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry. "Well, then I guess it's just another shadyside tragedy, right? A disadvantaged valedictorian with a bright future ahead loses it all when she gives up everything for money and drugs. I guess it fits the narrative, wouldn't you say?" 
                          
The cop leans forward on the table. "Your friends came here for my help. I should've listened to them. I'm sorry. But I'm listening now."
                          
"But there's nothing else to say," I tell the cop.
                          
"Do you really want your friend going down for this?" He asks me.
                          
"Obviously not!" I yell at him. "But she's dead, so, she can't really yell at me from the grave, can she?"
                          
He stops the tape recorder and stands up, abruptly, opening the door for me to leave. I rise to my feet and walk out with him, seeing my friends in the waiting area. 
                          
Simon immediately stands up when he sees me. "Let's go," I say to them. 
                          
"If anything comes to you, call me," The officer tells us. 
                          
We nod our heads and start to exit the building when we see Sam's mom pacing around in the lobby. I grab Simon's arm and start to walk outside, deciding I'll let Deena and Sam handle this.
                          
"Homophobic bitch," I mumble as I open the door, loud enough so the mom can hear me.
                          
Simon and I walk outside, followed by Josh. "Hey, uh, you guys wanna come over? You don't have to, I just don't really wanna be alone right now," Josh asks us.
                          
"Yeah, man. Of course," Simon tells him, nodding his head. 
                          
I send Josh a smile. "Would be happy to."