Bea sat slumped in the uncomfortable chair. With all the taxes the citizens of Minona were paying the police department, you would think they could at least buy some better frickin' chairs. It wasn't her first time at the station. It was, however, her first time in the Chief of Police's office. A deputy sat across from her, flipping through her file. Every few seconds she'd whistle or quirk an eyebrow. It was starting to get on Bea's nerves. To add insult to injury, the Sheriff's chair (which the deputy was currently sitting in) looked ten times more comfortable than hers. It was leather. "You know that you have no reasonable cause to arrest me right? I wasn't doing anything. Wrong place wrong time."
The deputy was apparently done perusing her file, because she put it down and raised an eyebrow. The woman apparently did that a lot. "You've got quite a long file here. I'm almost impressed. Underage drinking, resisting arrest, disorderly conduct, arson-"
"I was acquitted of that." Bea insisted. She crossed her arms and kicked her feet up on the table. "Not only do you have no cause to hold me but I was also treated with unreasonable force when your officer through me onto the ground and tackled me!"
"Listen kid, you're looking at multiple charges of disturbing the peace, train hopping, underage drinking-" The deputy continued on. Bea rolled her eyes. She had taken a sobriety test. She may have been near a bunch of drinking kids, but she wasn't drunk. All the other charges we're bull, and they both knew it. The only thing they could try and get her on was train hopping. All they had to prove that was the officer's account about what he thought he saw in the dark. It would never hold up in court. "Listen Beatrice we know your home situation probably isn't the best-"
Bea jerked angrily forward in her chair. "You don't know anything about me." She hissed, enunciating each syllable. "And my name is Bea." She stood up, ready to leave the room. They couldn't stop her. It swung open. A man with the little golden badge proclaiming 'Chief' blinked at her.
"Miss Miller, sit please. I apologize for the long wait. White, go do something else. File something, have some juice. I don't care. Just get out of my office." The man said, crossing to his desk. 'White' narrowed her eyes, but clearly respected her Chief. She and Bea shared one last glare and then the deputy left the office. Good riddance. The Chief sat and slowly, so did Bea. "So Miss Miller- may I call you Beatrice?"
She regarded him with narrowed eyes for a long moment. "Bea. Just Bea. Like the bumble." It earned her a small smile, and she relaxed almost unwillingly. She didn't like him or anything, but he apparently wasn't a complete d-bag.
"Alright Bea, I need to be frank with you. This doesn't look good for you. You don't need to give me that face, it's not a threat. I want to help you." Bea frowned at that. Help her? Since when did cops care about helping anyone but themselves? Maybe this guy had a complex. "As it stands now, your case won't look good in front of a court. We might now have a substantial charge-" Bea grinned triumphantly "But if a lawyer tells the story of this party and then reads out your past records… You'll be on the first bus to juvy. Unfortunately there is nothing I can do to stop that."
Bea scowled down at her heavy soled boots. How was that fair? "So I'm going to juvy and there's no way for me to get out of it. Thanks for the newsflash." She should have been expecting it really. It was only a matter of time.
"Now I didn't say there was nothing we could do. Listen Bea, you're still just a teenager. You're bright, as far as I can tell. None of your crimes are violent. You're just a good kid that's gone down a bad path." She rolled her eyes at that but didn't comment. "I've spoken to the judge that would be presiding over your case. She and I agreed that we should try and give you another shot. A second chance, if you will. All you have to do is turn your life around."
Bea gave him an incredulous look. Turn her life around? What did that even mean? It couldn't be that easy, surely. "I know that's rather vague. We tried calling your mother but there was no response. I assume from your records that she… doesn't have much sway in your life?" The Chief ventured carefully." Understatement of the frickin' year.
"She's probably got drunk and passed out." Bea said bluntly. The chief gave her a look that she thought might be sympathy so she shut it down quickly by scowling at him. He just continued to give her that dumb look.
"I see. Well, if you would agree I would like for you to eat dinner and stay the night with my family and I. We could discuss the terms of the agreement more and you could give me your answer in the morning?" The man said. Bea frowned, thinking it over. Was taking incarcerated teens home to your house standard police policy? Probably not. He had said his family would there, so they wouldn't be alone. That meant he probably wasn't some sexual predator trying to lure her home with him. Probably. The whole concept made her fight or flight- mainly flight- instincts kick in. If he really was being honest about wanting to help her, then exactly would this deal even entail? How could a judge measure whether or not someone had 'turned their life around?' It didn't matter though. Because she didn't really have a choice.
"Better than juvy." She said, and shrugged.
They drove to his his house in awkward silence, Bea shooting down any attempt at conversation in the politest way she could manage. They pulled outside of his house in what couldn't have been more than ten minutes, but felt like forever. "Nice place." Bea muttered, following him inside. Immediately the smell of cheese hit her nose. Yum. She heard a male voice call something about making food for an 'Uncle Ash.' Then he turned around and saw her.
She'd seen him before at school but never knew he was the Chief's kid. He had always just been 'that one popular kid who she didn't like'. He wasn't wearing his usual holier than thou expression or wardrobe. He still looked irritatingly attractive though, and his hair was damp like he'd just gotten out of the shower. And his glasses. Jesus. Bea ignored him and inhaled the smell of mac & cheese. Striding past him she started digging through cabinets. "You have spoons right? Maybe even a fork or two?"