Discovered

Chapter 12: Remembering the Project

As soon as the cop disappeared, I stood awkwardly in front of Wallace. Glaring, he pointed his finger at me. "Look," he began. "I don't know what is going on, but I know that-" "Look Wallace," I interrupted. "I am here to help you."

He stared at me in surprise. "So, what are you?" Wallace snorted. "A detective or something?" "You might say that," I giggled. "Anyway, back to business: Where were you at the scene of the crime?"

"I was at the arcade, hanging out with my friends." Wallace shrugged. I crossed my arms then stared at him. For a moment, I saw the corners of his cheeks blush. "I need better proof than that," I sighed. Wallace throw up his hands in frustration then told me to go to the Jupiter's Arcade.

"Okay," I said rolling my eyes. "But what else did you do after you went to the arcade?" Wallace bit his lip then toyed with his sneakers. Even though he was in jail, he still wore his Steelers football jersey, blue jeans, and blue sneakers.

"I saw a gun on the floor and went to inspect it. Just then, some guy in a black hoodie took and put it in his pocket." Okay, this is getting me somewhere. "Do you know what he look like?" I asked. "Did you check his shoes? Did he have a beard?"

Wallace shook his head at my questions, but then thought of something. "I did saw something on his hoodie," he said. "It was the logo of the Langston Hughes High." "What is it?" I asked hopefully. He squinted his eyes as he tried to remember. "It had the white initials L.H.H on it."

The killer must be one of the students. "Thanks," I said. I was about to leave until Wallace stopped me. "Wait," he cried. "What is your name?" "A friend," I introduced. "Trying to find the person who framed you." Suddenly, the old cop came back, striding down the aisle while ignoring the prisoners' stares. "Mia," the cop said, walking over to me. "Time is up."

I smiled at the cop then followed him out of the cell. As soon as Uncle Seth and I left the station, it was time for me to figure what else can I do to prove that Wallace is innocent.

"Did you have a nice time talking to a criminal?" Uncle Seth asked. I cut my eyes at him. "Wallace isn't a criminal," I retorted. Uncle Seth rolled his eyes then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a journalist ID that has my picture then handed it to me.

I took the card from his hands and studied it. Blue letters that spelt Harlem News marked on top of the card. Below it, is me standing in front of a white wall, looking happy.  "I had already put your name as Mia  Jefferies," Uncle Seth stated. "And as much as I think that Wallace kid is guilty-"

"Uncle Seth," I groaned. "Fine," he said. "I won't continue my theory. As soon as we get back, you are going to call your friends and ask them about the homework." I bobbed my head firmly then followed him back into Grandma's house.

Even though we were back from the police station, I was desperate to go back and ask Wallace more questions. Like a cloud, Grandma's red Volvo showed up on the driveway.

She came out of the car with a beaming smile on her face. "Hey Mom," Uncle Seth waved. Grandma's smile even widened as she came closer. I watched as Uncle Seth gave her a heartwarming hug and kissed her wrinkled forehead.

"Look how you have grown!" she chuckled. "You are not wearing that stupid earring, you cut that long hair... you look handsome." A red flush of embarrassment appeared across my cheeks.

"Thanks," he replied, laughing. "Mom, you know that I am grown up now." Grandma laughed then darted her eyes at me. "Cleo," Grandma gasped, touching my cheeks. "It's like seeing a reflection of your mother."

I blushed fiercely at the comment then brushed away my bangs. "I think I remember you," I said. "I used to go to your house and make chocolate chip cake."

As if she was a child, Grandma clapped her hands together. "Come inside," she beamed. "We could make that chocolate chip cake again." She took us by the hands and led us back into the house.

We walked past the wooden floors, dodged the cream colored walls until we made it into the kitchen. Just as Grandma was about to take out a huge glass bowl, my cellphone buzzed in my pocket.

The ringtone sang Take You There, giving myself a reprimanding look. Grandma gave me a nonchalant shrug as she placed the bowl on the black counter. I vanished into the bathroom, pressed my finger the Answer Call button.

Within a few minutes, the song stopped and I could hear my friend, Paige on the speakerphone. "Hey Cleo," she greeted. "I heard that your grandmother is sick. I'm really sorry." I let out a sigh then ran my fingers through my hair. There was no doubt the teachers told everyone about my personal family matters, but nonetheless, I learned how to deal with the awkward questions.

"That's fine," I answered. "Is there any assignments that I have missed?" "There is a lot," Paige sighed. "But I am sure you can do it." She told me every single homework, right of the bat. From essays, lessons, and terms, it was a lot. But since this is what I promised my parents, I have to accomplish every single scrap of homework my teachers throw at me, no matter what.

"Thank you," I answered. Just when I was about to hang up, Paige stopped me. "Wait," she cried. "Are you finished with your history project?" I slapped my head in frustration. I totally forgot to start it!

"No," I moaned. "All I have is a blank canvas." "Don't worry," Paige shrugged. "I didn't start mine either, but I am sure you can find something cool for your project. Anyway, I have to go. Call you later!"

After she hung up the phone, I heard a low hum coming out of the speaker. Annoyed, I turned off my phone and put it back into my pocket.