can see, it’s still pink and swollen, but it doesn’t seem to be bleeding anymore. The dried blood caked onto the lobe triggers a pang of guilt, because I’m the one who talked her into wearing those earrings tonight.
“It’s sore,” she admits. “But at least it’s still attached to my head.”
“At least that,” I agree. “I’m sorry I made you wear the big hoops.”
“It’s all right. Now you know.” She releases a bleak sigh. “Sometimes you must witness the tragedy firsthand in order to understand it.”
“Yes,” I said gravely.
My lips twitch until finally a laugh slips out. She joins in, stretching out her legs and tapping her suede boots on the linoleum.
“I wish I had a lollipop,” she says.
“I wish I had my freedom.”
That summons another laugh from her. “God. I can’t believe we’re in jail. For lewd behavior, of all things.”
“And my dick wasn’t even out!”
“I know, right?”
The lone deputy in the holding area glances in our direction, and I glimpse a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He’s been at his desk for the past hour, typing on a computer.
I have no idea where the arresting officer disappeared to, although we weren’t technically arrested. Nobody read me my Miranda rights, anyway. No Miranda rights? Ha! I’ve seen enough Law and Order reruns to know that any judge in his right mind would dismiss this case in a heartbeat. Unless the judge is having a bad day.
Personally, I think Officer Cranky was having a shitty night. Demi and I didn’t do anything wrong and he knows it. Our breathalyzers barely registered a thing.
“What’s the punishment for lewd behavior?” she asks curiously.
“No clue.”
“Excuse me—sir?” She hops up and approaches the bars. “What’s the punishment for lewd behavior? Is it death?”
Once again, he seems to be fighting a smile. “For first-time offenders, usually a fine.”
“Perfect,” she chirps. “My co-conspirator is filthy rich. He can write you a check.”
“Hey, don’t look at me,” the desk jockey says with a grin. “Wait until Officer Jenk returns—he’s the one you need to talk to.”
“Officer Jerk, more like it,” Demi grumbles.
I snicker. “Nice.”
She addresses the deputy again. “Aren’t we supposed to get a phone call?” she challenges.
“She’s right,” I say, sauntering up to the bars. “I’d like my phone call, please.”
“Sure. Whatever.” The young cop walks over and unlocks the cell door. He gestures for me to step out before sliding the bars back into place with a sharp click.
“Who are you calling?” Demi demands.
I turn to answer her, but the sight of her gripping two iron bars and peering at me from inside a cell… It’s too good. I’d regret it my whole life if I let this opportunity pass.
“Am I allowed to take a picture?” I beg the cop.
“Don’t you dare,” Demi warns.
He grins. “Go for it.” I think this is the most fun he’s had in a while. Riding a desk is probably boring as fuck.
I fish my phone from my pocket and snap a picture of Demi, who looks like she wants to murder me. Then, to rub salt in the wound, I turn around to take a selfie, with Demi’s outraged face in the background, her fingers curled around the bars.
“That’s my Christmas card, right there,” I tell her, giving a finger gun.
“I hate you.”
No you don’t, you want to blow me.
I can’t stop the wicked thought. And I can’t quite fathom it, either. Was she actually serious about wanting me to be her rebound? She’s so sarcastic that I assumed she was messing with me.
Maybe it’s a good thing I was in the dark about it. Hell, it’d probably be better if I still was. I promised myself I wouldn’t hook up this year, and the temptation to break that vow for Demi is overwhelming.
The deputy leads me over to his desk and points to the landline.
“Can’t I use my own phone?” I hold it up in reminder. I mean, he literally just allowed me to take a picture.
He shakes his head. “Against protocol.”
“Okay, well, that doesn’t make any sense, but whatever.” I shrug and grab the handset off its cradle. Then I dial one of the few numbers I know by heart.
“Hey Coach,” I say after his brusque hello.
“Davenport?” he asks suspiciously.
“Yeah. I hope I didn’t wake you.” The digital clock across the room reads 10:37. Not crazy late, but we have a six-thirty a.m. morning skate, so there’s a chance he was already in bed.