Model in Disguise

31. Withholding Information

       Slowly I get up, walk towards the policeman, and start out of the room. But right before my foot crosses the threshold, I’m almost positive I see a small red dot, positioned at the center of the column, blink on and then off. As if it were some kind of camera.

       .       .       .

I sit down onto a leather chair in Mr. Jacobs’ office again with great displeasure. And I am not alone in this.

       Alex sits in the chair adjacent to mine and he stares blankly to his front, not acknowledging me. Somehow, I find it better this way. It’s as if we’re communicating without actually speaking.

       Deny everything.

       “Ms. Williams,” says Mr. Jacobs as he stands in front of the wooden desk before us. “It has been brought to my attention, from a fellow student, that you have left the premises of Smile Academy.”

       My heart drops into my stomach.

       From a fellow student. Surely not Peter or Justin . . .

       The assistant principal’s blue eyes pierce through my very being, and my blood seems to stop flowing correctly. “This student seems to be very concerned for the safety of the school. They have said that they suspect you are withholding information that could be useful to the authorities.”

       Susan.

       “So I thought I’d come in and have a little chat,” intervenes the policeman.

       Alex finally looks away from the wall and turns to the policeman, who stands behind the brown desk, on Jacobs’ right.

       “And who are you?” Alex asks tonelessly. Then he looks back at the wall, seemingly uninterested in whatever the man has to say. “And isn’t there supposed to be some kind of guardian present before you can legally interrogate us?”

       The man smiles. “Officer Reynolds. And yes, usually, that is the case.” Then he steps forward and leans down to our eye-level, resting his hand on the desk. His eyes are brown, the deep brown that makes you want to keep looking into them.

       “But this isn’t an interrogation,” the officer says, and the words come out hard. “And even so, Mr. Jacobs will be present.”

       I scoff. “And that's supposed to make us more comfortable.”

       Officer Reynolds smirks a little, but stands up straight again. I watch him become even more serious now, more so than before. “What do you have to say in response to the allegations made against you?”

       I stare at him. So much for a friendly conversation.

       “Wait, allegations?” Alex says. His voice mirrors my expression. “We’re only about two minutes into this chat, officer, and already we’ve committed a crime, according to you.”

       The officer clears his throat but otherwise seems unfazed by Alex’s attitude. “It was said that you may be withholding crucial information, but if it makes this any easier for you, I’ll use a different word.”

       Alex nods, a sarcastic look aimed at Officer Reynolds. “Yeah, that’ll make everything better. Thanks.”

       A little taken aback at Alex’s attitude towards the man, I decide to join the conversation. “Yes,” I say, because I decide to tell the partial truth. I earn the attention of everyone in the room. Alex turns to me, and his eyes burn into mine. “We left the school premises together,” I continue.

       My eyes leave Alex’s and I look over at Mr. Jacobs, who stands quietly in the northwest corner of the room. “But we don’t have any information that would be useful to you. You probably know more than we do.” I look at the officer. “Being a cop and everything.”

       The officer tilts his head to the side. “You think so?” he says. “Because I often find that when a whole group of teenagers strongly believes someone is guilty, there is definitely more to the story than advertised.”

       “A group? I thought you said it was a fellow student,” Alex says, catching the officer’s slip-up. Officer Reynolds glances at Jacobs, who looks straight at Alex.

       There’s only one group of students that I have in mind. And I want to storm out of the room and find the Cherubim so I can confront them and drag them by their hair for talking me into “meeting them” when really I was walking into a visit from the police.

       But I only shrug. “I don’t know, officer. I think you’re the one withholding information.”

       Alex leans forward in his chair just as the officer did a few minutes ago. “You know, you guys should get your stories straight before having these chats; this is kind of embarrassing.”

       The officer stares at the two of us for a moment.

       We stare back, unwaveringly.

       And then, a piercing sound splits right through the period of silence. The school bell.

       I turn to Alex. “I think we’ve got Chemistry now,” I tell him, and then I glance at the two men in front of us. “Unless we’re also being charged for murder.”

       Alex feigns a look of excitement. “Are we? I forgot to write that paper on the effects of acid rain. Maybe if we just stay in here for another . . . say, thirty minutes, I could—”

       “Alex,” I say.

       “Well, it was a long shot anyway,” he says.

       The two of us stand up and make our way to the door, and I fight to keep the amusement off my face at the sight of the incredulous expression that covers Officer Reynolds’ face.

       “Nice to meet you,” I throw over my shoulder.

                                *              *              *

I don’t know about you guys, but I found that chapter to be really awesome.

:D

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