Unexpected

“Mr. Anderson,” Judge Parker says, his voice commanding the room. “You have found yourself in an unfortunate position. To come home and interrupt the murder of your mother is…” Judge Parker shakes his head. “Nothing shy of tragic.”

I refrain from looking down at my hands. I don’t like thinking about Mom and how I should have been there. If I had come home sooner, like I originally planned before Officer Harris got me that hotel room, I could have stopped this. I knew Clint was an unstable prick, and I still left. Killing Clint may have been an accident, but it’s my fault Mom is dead.

The judge folds his hands over his podium and says, “I’m very happy to announce that you, Asher Anderson, are hereby found not guilty.”

“Asher,” Mr. Walker says with a grin. He holds his hand out for me to shake it, then changes his mind and pulls me into a hug.

“I didn’t think we’d get self-defense.”

Mr. Walker chuckles and rests his hands on my shoulders. He pulls back and looks me dead in the eye, still smiling. “What can I say, kid? I’m that good. Besides, Jeff and I agreed that no one could argue reasonable doubt for this one.”

He runs a hand through my hair, like I’m six years old again. The sentiment is nice, but then I remember I’m essentially an orphan. My mom is dead and my dad wants nothing to do with me. My house has probably been ransacked, or worse foreclosed on, because I doubt our slum lord will be understanding. The realization that I have nothing and no one hits me like a sledgehammer to the nuts.

“Asher?” Mr. Walker sounds worried and I wonder if I’ve got a look or something. “You’ve got to go back with the bailiff for processing, but I’ll be there to pick you up.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I don’t know how long the exit process takes. I hadn’t even begun to think about it or how I’d get home, let alone where my bike is. Knowing Ellie, she probably moved it from the school grounds but the question is, where? I can’t call her; I doubt she'd even talk to me.

Had I known I was only going to be in here a few weeks, I wouldn’t have pushed Ellie away. I want to get her back, but I don’t know if that’s possible. Hell, I don’t even know where I’ll live after this.

“For a kid who’s just got his life back,” Mr. Harris says with a grin, “I thought you’d be happier.”

I look over to him but can’t bring myself to smile. “I am. I’m just worried.”

“About what?”

“About what happens next. I have no home, no money. Nothing. I can’t even go to college because classes have already started and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost my scholarship.”

“Your scholarship is intact,” Derek Heiter says from behind me. He holds his hand out to Mr. Harris and shakes it. “Thanks, Jeff. I owe you one.”

“I didn’t do this for free, asshole.” Mr. Harris scoffs.

All three men laugh and I feel like an outsider trapped in an inside joke. “What are you doing here?”

“Kid.” Mr. Walker claps me on the back. “You two have some catching up to do.” He turns to Mr. Harris and says, “Want to grab a drink, Jeff?”

“Can’t. Hunter’s first birthday dinner is tonight.” Mr. Harris smiles proudly.

“I can’t believe Logan’s kid is that big already,” Mr. Walker says as they leave the courtroom together.

“We need to talk, son,” Derek says.

“You’re my sperm donor, not my father. Don't call me son.” The bailiff walks over to us. “I’ve got to go.”

“Here,” Mr. Walker says, handing me a plastic bag with a new set of clothes in it. “I figured you might not want to wear those.”

I left the jail with what I came in with. A dead cellphone that’s been shut off. A brown wallet with thirty-six dollars in it. Black lace-up boots. And blood-splattered clothes. My pants aren’t bad, only a speck here and there, but my button-down has seen better days. I reach into the plastic bag and grab the black t-shirt. “Thanks.”

Mr. Harris claps his hand on my back and squeezes my shoulder. “You’re gonna be alright, kid.”

I force a smile, wishing I could believe him. I have no job. No money. Nowhere to live. School started a few days ago, which means I missed registration and everything required to secure the scholarship I busted my ass for. Basically, I’m fucked. “If you say so.”

He chuckles and unlocks his Mercedes CLS with his key fob. I climb inside, and silently gawk at the car’s beauty. I haven’t been in a fancy vehicle like this since I was a kid. On my side of the tracks, the cars are old because that’s what we can afford. Shit that has no payments and something wrong. Unless you're one of Micklovich Romanov's low-life dealers; they drive the black Nissan 350Zs that loiter on our side of town.

The drive to the Walker house passes quickly. I look out the window with new eyes, watching in awe how freely people move about. The ability to go where you want, when you want is a privilege everyone takes for granted. You don’t realize how much freedom you have until it’s taken away. We pull into the Walkers’ driveway and there’s a car in front of the garage I don’t recognize.

My stomach churns with excitement and worry. I hope it’s Ellie, that she got a new car for graduation and has come home to meet me. Surly her dad would have told her I’m free. Once I get some money, I’m going to see her and apologize. That conversation needs to happen in person, rather than over the phone, but at the moment I don't have a pot to piss in. However, her being here means I have a chance and haven’t screwed everything up.

I climb out of Mr. Walker’s car, purposely slowing my movements so as not to seem too anxious. When we walk into the house, my heart drops. Ellie isn't here.