+Bad Catholics+ Frank Iero

+33+

"I've heard you have quite the bright future ahead of you, Miss Harper."

"You can never really tell."

I didn't know what I expected police stations to look like, but I supposed if I had guessed incredibly drab, I would have been right. There really is nothing particularly intimidating about them, but perhaps I wasn't the intended audience. I just couldn't imagine a person walking into the building and shuffling passed a glass case filled with indecipherable newspaper articles and a framed portrait of July 1998's well esteemed employee of the month, a beloved German Shepherd named "Sparky", and shaking in their boots. Unless you were guilty, maybe, and in that case- oh, right. I was guilty. 

The officer separated Frank and I when we arrived, and truthfully, I was more worried about where he was than myself. All I could think about was another life, ruined by the Dean family. Except this time, the fault was laid upon my own feet, and not my father's. I wondered if I could truly live with myself if it all fell apart, if I had to watch Frank lose everything because of my inability to cut him off. Because of how much I selfishly needed him in every way. 

I went through the motion of the conversation as best I could- after the initial shock of being pulled from school wore off, I knew deep down that the police couldn't really hold either of us unless they had some concrete evidence, which I hoped to god they didn't. I told myself that if I could just get through these questions, we would be safe again. Not for long, of course. But I would have taken any spare time I could get to figure out what to do next. 

He asked me seemingly useless questions about school and my activities outside of it, my home life, and what I had been doing the night of the fire. All things I blatantly lied in response to, obviously. I had gotten quite good at that these days. 

"And I understand you have had no prior relationship with Mr. Iero until this school year, is that correct?" 

"I've known him since grade school."

"That isn't what I asked".

I shifted uncomfortably in the plastic-cushioned chair, suddenly wishing I wasn't wearing my uniform skirt. Something about him made me want to crawl out of my skin.

"We became friends a few months ago, yes," I said as politely as I could. 

The officer nodded quietly and leaned against the desk in the center of the room, his arms folded in what seemed like faux contemplation. I wasn't sure if he felt like he was pulling one over on me, but regardless it was clear his perception of me was about as stereotypical as it could get. Small, frail, fearful catholic school girl in a scary, foreign place. Maybe that was once true. I would have argued that it no longer was.

"Mae, let me tell you something, person to person. Off the record."

And now he was playing the "I'm just like you, but bigger!" card that middle-aged adults love. I should have seen it coming. 

"You're a beautiful young lady, best in your class, you'll be off to college soon," He leaned forward and continued. I cringed. "You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't throw it all away for a boy. Especially not a little punk like that one. It'll cause you nothing but trouble."

Like what? Is what I wanted to ask. Like one that has more to offer in a single fingernail than you do in your entire body? More to offer than the entire city of Belleville put together?

But I didn't, of course. I let little hints of anger seep through my fingertips into the bottom of the chair as I bitterly gripped it, and murmured "I understand."

The officer nodded with a smile and walked toward the office door, opening it and pausing.
"That's all for now. You're free to go."

The pressure in my chest began to relieve as I leaned down for my school bag, trying not to appear too hasty.