Algebra was always easy and straightforward for , even at the university level and it sure hasn't gotten any harder since then.
If it were geotry, I might have had so problems, but these questions weren't an issue for .
I was jotting down the answers in peace and bliss when the classroom door opened.
In walked an older man in a dark suit, his hair thinning in a way that would look better if he were just bald, his face serious.
He was the principal.
"Is Jack Somnus present?" he asked firmly.
"Fuuuck…" Jacob muttered under his breath next to .
I stood up. "Yes, Sir."
"Co with ," he ordered.
I went to pick up my backpack, but the principal stopped . "You can leave your backpack; you won't be needing it."
I nodded silently and followed him out of the classroom as my classmates' gazes followed out.
There were two gentlen in blue uniforms waiting for outside the classroom.
I was surprised that it escalated this quickly.
'Did Bob lie to his father, or are they just so confident that I won't fight for my rights?' I thought.
The principal moved to the side and said, "I've learned about what you did, Jack. You must understand that your actions could have serious consequences." He sighed deeply.
"We will ask you to follow us," one of the policen said.
I nodded silently and was slowly escorted to a police car waiting outside. A few students were sitting on benches nearby, they looked at what was happening with astonished expressions.
Thankfully, the officers didn't use handcuffs on .
They sat at the back of the car and drove away in silence.
This was going to be a very long day.
…
It was just a ten-minute drive to the Northwood Police Station from downtown.
The building was a squat, brick structure with bars on the windows and a faded sign above the entrance. Inside, the air slled faintly of disinfectant and coffee.
I was swiftly escorted to a decently kept room with plain, beige walls and a linoleum floor.
I was guided to a bench against the far wall, where I sat down.
Seated next to was a woman in her late thirties, who looked rather disheveled. Her hair was ssy, and her clothes were wrinkled. Her hands were cuffed in front of her.
"What happened to you?" she asked.
"I got arrested for dancing in a fountain."
"Really?"
"Nope."
Our conversation stopped abruptly as an officer ca and led her away.
A few minutes later, a female cop ca for .
She led through the hallway into what looked like an interrogation room. I wasn't sure, as I was never actually a suspect in any cri.
Although there were many that I committed,.
There was a tal table bolted to the floor, surrounded by four tal chairs, also firmly attached. A mirror ran along one side, likely one-way glass. The walls were painted a pale blue, giving the room a cold, clinical feel.
The policewoman motioned towards one of the chairs. "Please, take a seat," she said calmly.
She maintained eye contact. "Alright, let's take this one step at a ti. Can you tell your na?"
"Jack."
"Hi Jack, I'm Officer Carter." she said with a friendly smile. "Do you need to call soone? Maybe your parents?"
I fidgeted uncomfortably in the cold tal chair. "No."
"Is there anyone else you'd like to call?"
"No," I replied firmly.
The policewoman took a seat across from . She was rather plain-looking, with limp brown hair and dark eyes, but she was athletically slim and easy on the eye.
She straightened her posture and cleared her throat. "I am required to inform you that an accusation of assault has been made against you by the opposing party. They have proposed a resolution involving financial compensation."
"I have a few questions for you," she continued calmly.
"Excuse ," I interjected respectfully, "but discussing this matter further without legal counsel present could compromise my rights. Therefore, I wish to exercise my Miranda Rights and remain silent until I have an attorney present."
Her face flickered with surprise for a mont.
"I'm sorry. I seed to have made a mistake. You have the right to remain silent and request an attorney. Are you requesting a public defender?"
"That's right."
"This might take a few hours. I will ask you to wait in the hall," she inford .
A minute later, I found myself back outside the interrogation room
30 minutes later, a short man dressed in a gray suit with gray hair and a red face appeared at the police station.
After talking with the police, the man ca up to , "I'm Nicholas Reynolds. I'm a lawyer." He held his hand out to .
"Good afternoon. I'm Jack Somnus." I shook his hand firmly.
"Alright, Jack, want to tell what you're doing here?"
"Yes, sir, I would very much like to do that. But could we get a room?"
"Give a second," Mr. Reynolds said and he walked away to the desks of the policen.
Eventually, my appointed lawyer, Mr. Reynolds, secured us a private room.
We sat down, and we were given so ti before the detective would arrive for questioning.
I proceeded to tell him everything, about how Bob Finch had decided to gang up on at the school gate. About how I have been provoked and attacked.
Then I described the fight.
Mr. Reynolds was listening attentively.
"Bob most likely has a busted nose; other than that, he is heavily bruised up, and he will probably stay in the hospital for a few days."
"Have you shared this with the police?" Mr. Reynolds asked.
"No. I didn't want to talk to them without a lawyer."
Reynolds cocked his head in his chair and studied . "Alright, let be clear. Are you certain this is the whole truth? Will the witnesses back you up?"
I t his gaze steadily. "There's even a cara that recorded all of it."
He seed surprised at that, raising an eyebrow.
Then he smiled. "You're an interesting guy… Alright, I will be happy to be your attorney."
He stood up, walked out of the room and ca back just a minute later.
He sat back down at the table. "Okay, a detective will be here soon. Tell him everything you just told . They should get witness statents and prove that you acted in self-defense. There is no reason why this case shouldn't end there."
"Mister Reynold… You misunderstood . I have no intention of ending it here. I'm the victim. It was Bob Finch who attacked ."
He paused for a second. "What do you intend to do then?"
I tapped my fingers on the tal table.
"I intend to file a counterclaim."
I looked at the lawyer like I ant business.
Mr. Reynold glared at for a while before nodding in understanding. "Let's talk to the detective first."
I leaned in slightly, my voice steady." Mr. Reynolds, I know how unrewarding it can be to be a public defender. We could draft an attorney contract if you help file that counterclaim and represent in case this goes to court, though it will never go that far."
I knew my own limits. I realized that I might need the help of soone with experience; I was a market analyst, not a lawyer.
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