Roommate's Virgin

Devlin

I was a lucky son-of-a-bitch, and I knew it. I walked to the station that morning feeling a very strong sense of déjà vu. Somehow, despite the fact that I was a repeat offender, I had been handed down another extremely lenient verdict. It was community service again, this time nine months instead of six, but I knew I deserved much more.

I had been assigned to Judge Forrester again, and I still remembered the way he had looked at me as he breezed into the courtroom and sat down.

“Mr. Danvers,” he had said, with an icy edge to his voice. “Back again.”

I suppressed a sigh. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Apparently six months’ worth of community service didn’t do the trick did it?”

“I’m sorry, Your Honor… I… I…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve disappointed everyone around me, and I know that,” I said. “I’ve disappointed myself too.”

My parents were not in the courtroom today, and that made it a little easier for me to speak. Still, I liked Judge Forrester, and I knew he had done me a kindness with his last verdict, which was why I was ashamed to be standing in front of him now.

“Tell me… why shouldn’t I put you in jail this time?” Judge Forrester asked.

I gulped. “You have no reason not to,” I said, stammering over my words. “But… I don’t intend ever to deal drugs again, Your Honor. I know that sounds like a line and I know you have no reason to believe me… but it’s true.”

“Is it?”

“The night I got caught… that was going to be my last job,” I said. “I was going to stop after that.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I repeated.

“Yes, you were obviously pushing drugs because it was making you money,” Judge Forrester reasoned. “So why quit something that was a sure thing?”

“Because… I met someone,” I blurted out.

I had had no intention of talking about Zoey… but since she was the first and last thing on my mind always her name just burst from my lips instinctively.

“Go on,” Judge Forrester nodded to me.

“I met a girl, Your Honor,” I said. “And she… I wanted to be able to be better and do better… for her sake if not mine.”

“Then that was your first mistake,” Judge Forrester said firmly. “You should have wanted to be better for you… and you first. If you can’t value your own life then how is anyone else expected to?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What could I possibly say to that? But I was starting to see that perhaps he was right. Sometimes change needed to happen for no one else but yourself… and then everything else became easier.

“Your honor. May I say something?” I asked.

“You may.”

“I understand now the mistakes I’ve made. I… felt as though my work was worth sacrificing everything for. But I wasn’t really doing it for my art… I was doing it to prove to my parents that were wrong not to believe in my dream. I felt that if I put my career on hold, it would only show them that they were right. I needed to make a living, and I had no money. It was either find a real job and stop painting or sell pot and keep painting. The choice seemed simple to me. But now I understand that I need to do what’s right for me… instead of trying to prove things to other people… even if they happen to be my parents.”

“I will say this,” Judge Forrester told me. “The police officer who arrested you was working undercover for some time, and it seems in her report she mentioned that this was to be your last deal as well.”

“I told Larry several times,” I said. “I just wanted to get rid of the last package… I told him he would need to find another dealer.”

“And considering you had no reason to lie to him… I suppose I do believe that that would have been your last time.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”