“Did you eat it?” I mouth to her as she stands ten feet to my left.

I make exceptionally good grades. But, I’m told I party too much.
I’m one of the editors for my high school newspaper. But I’m spending the first six weeks at Alternative School.
I cook dinner and play mom almost every night for my family. But I’m told I’m selfish because I refuse to join them at church on Sunday mornings.
I am a shining star. I am an utter disappointment.

I stand there in shock—this can’t be real. I’ll wake up in my cloud-like bed any moment. I know I will. I have to. But I can’t really be shocked when people warn me on a daily basis of the horror I’m going through this very minute.

The officer finally crawls out of my car and walks towards me. I glance at his name tag. Gore.

“Is this yours?” he asks me.

I shake my head yes, tears streaming down my face. I already know what’s going to happen next.

He turns me around, pulls my hands behind my back, tells me I have the right to remain silent.

All I can do is cry.
I feel the handcuffs dig into the skin on my wrists.
Feel him shove me into the passenger seat of his Highway Patrol car.
Watch through the window as my best friend walks away. Walks away and lets me “take one for the team.” And all she has around her wrists are silly-bands. A purple guitar and a blue octopus.