Page 95 of A Tragic Melody

“Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll,” Tuesday replies with a laugh.

“Pretty much.” He nods with a chuckle. His eyes once again look over Tuesday. Her leg still taps, but now she is twirling a strand of her hair, too. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she says quickly. “Why?” She looks at me. I sigh, leaning back in my seat. We are so fucked.

His partner comes walking back. “Back reeks of weed, but everything else looks okay.” He shrugs.

“Maybe we should do a search, just in case,” the second guy says.

“Over some weed?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“Alright. I’ll call it in.”

Tuesday’s eyes go wide, and I finally reach over and grip her thigh until she stops tapping it.

They drag Quinn, David, and Kellen to the front. Forcing all of us to sit on the couches as the two original officers go through the bunks. Two other officers stand, watching us. Tuesday vibrates from her nervous energy.

I can only hope they see the makeup bag and take it at face value. As long as they don’t open it, we can get through this.

“It was just some weed,” Kellen mutters.

Tuesday squirms beside me, and I place my hand around her neck, leaning in a little.

“Relax. It’s going to be fine.”

“Wyatt…”

“Shh,” I whisper. “Just listen, okay? Whatever happens, you owe me, deal?” She looks up at me, questioningly. “I’ll get you through this, but you owe me.”

She looks down, her leg tapping again.

It takes a few minutes, but one of the officers comes walking back up, with the makeup bag. It’s unzipped, and I think Tuesday was right when she said heaven wasn’t real, because I apparently don’t have any guardians watching out for me.

“Anyone want to claim this? Or do we need to arrest you all and take you to the station for questioning?” He looks at us.

Tuesday’s head starts to turn towards him, as the guys all look over.

“It’s mine,” I say before she can react.

“Really?” He looks down at the pink makeup bag with ghosts and bats on it. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Do you know what’s in it?” the first officer asks.

“No. Don’t have the slightest clue.”

“But you admit it belongs to you?” he confirms.

“Yeah.”

“How does that check out?”

“I don’t know, officer, why don’t you tell me?”

“Stand up,” his partner says. “You are under arrest for possession of narcotics.”