For the Love of the Law

Chapter Thirty Seven | This Isn't A Good Time

Marley had barely said a word about what had happened at the police station the next day. Him, Jag and Archer had gone back to school the next day, and I had imagined that Marley would be too reluctant, even fake a sickie or something, because the whole of the student body would have to know by now. 

But he did the opposite. 

He got up early, went to the gym, came home and showered. Packed his lunch and books. Said goodbye to dad and I as the honking of a car horn sounded outside. Then left with a determined, dark look in his eye.

Either he was past the point of caring, or people needed to tread lightly around him today. 

Maybe a little bit of both. But I would steer clear if I was still at school. 

"Hey dad?" I asked when I reentered the kitchen just after Marley had left. "Are you worried about him?"

"No more than usual, why?" Dad asked casually from his place at the table. It was one of those rare days that dad didn't have to go to work absurdly early in the morning, so he could just sit and enjoy a cup of coffee and read the paper without having to think about rushing off to work as soon as possible.

"What if something else happens at school?" I replied, leaning my hip against the kitchen counter.

Someone elses kitchen counter flashed in my mind, but I pushed that thought away as soon as it had come. I was talking to my father right now, the last thing I needed on my mind was the memory of where Flynn and I had enjoyed certain...activities a few nights ago.

"I've already talked to the principal, he's taken into account what's happened, and he's going to have his staff watch him closely today."

"Did he think Marley was guilty."

Dad sighed, rubbing his forehead before replying. "I got the distinct impression he thought so, yes."

I snorted. "Principal Adamson is a dickhead anyway. He always has been." 

Dad shot me a playful scolding look. "Did none of my children get along with that man?" 

"Marley does." I defended with a laugh. "Well, he did at least." 

Dad joined in with my laughter. It died down after a few moments though. "Hey dad?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Why do you think someone planted those drugs? And who?" 

I didn't need to hear him voice it out loud that he thought it was Samson too. It was one of those silent, unspoken lines of communication between us, where we both just knew but never talked about it. 

"I'm not sure, Harls. But I wish things were different. My boys been through too much to have to deal with this too." 

I smiled at the sound of dads voice. He'd always been supportive, always positive. Even after the accident and when he found out Marley hadn't actually been driving, he'd remained supportive, and never once did he act negative. Not once. 

Even know, he spoke with pride in his tone about Marley. 

"He has." I murmured after a few seconds of deliberating what dad had said. "I'm proud of him. For coping so well, and for so long." 

"Me too," dad murmured as he looked back down at the paper. "I'm the proudest."

* * * * 

I still hadn't talked to Flynn by the time Marley arrived home from school, and I had blamed it on the fact that I hadn't text or called him because he was working right now, and I didn't want to disturb or distract him from anything important.