One Direction Are My Mates??

Chapter 3

"Mrs. Peterson, please stand up." Mrs. Young calls out, leaning on the front of her desk. I do as she says, letting my arms lay limp at my sides. 

"Tell me, if you were the opposing defense attorney, what would you do first to prove your client innocent?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

I give myself a few seconds to think, then give her my answer: "Discredit the witness." 

"And how would you do that?" She asks, writing down what I had just said on the board. 

"Dig around. See if they are on any medications, any chance they had been drinking, and most of all, is there even the slightest doubt that they did not see my client. They will start to doubt themselves and what they saw, and they cannot lie while under oath. So, when I ask if there is even the slightest chance that it was not my client, they would have no choice but to say yes."

"Good job, you may sit." I do as she says. 

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see the boys looking over at me, impressed. I take a deep breath and listen as she calls on other classmates, writing down what Mrs. Young writes down on the board, highlighting the important parts.

After what only seems like a half an hour, when in reality it was almost two hours, the class ends. 

I turn to the boys, "The next class starts in about fifteen minutes. If you want, you can head to the café, or bathroom, or just walk around. Just remember which way you went. If you cannot remember, just stop someone in the hall or go to the visitors' center. They'll point you in the right direction." They all nod, looking over at Paul, who looks like he wants to ask questions.

I lean back onto my chair, closing my laptop and swivel my chair to face Paul. 

"Alright, what do you want to ask?" I say, raising my eyebrow and tilting my head at him. 

He looks somewhat shocked, "how did you know I wanted to ask a question?" I chuckle and shake my head at him. 

"Ever since I was younger, I have always been really empathetic. My mom would get home from work and be very stressed. In turn, I would feel and know that she was stressed, and I would get stressed and start to cry. Ever since then, I have been really good at reading people. Whether they're lying to me, and generally any emotion, and whether someone wants to say something but are biting their tongue. So, spill it." I explain.

"Have you ever thought about working security? Well, firstly, have you worked a security job before?" He asks, leaning back on his chair. 

"Well, yes. I've worked a couple of security jobs, actually. Every year, I work as security at the Michigan State Fair in Escanaba, as well as anything DeltaForce need me to do. Before you ask, DeltaForce are a private security and private investigative service in Escanaba that hire security for events. I work at most of the events for security detail. I also used to work security at the Island Casino in Bark River." I say.

Paul nods his head as I spoke, seriously interested. 

"Well, the boys here have a vacation coming up and want to be on the down-low, like seriously down-low. They want to relax somewhere, hopefully a cabin-in-the-woods type situation and just get away from everything for a while. If you worked security, and you would be up for it, I would feel completely safe leaving them in your hands, supposing you can find something like that. We would pay you for your service, as well as pay you for food and services for the boys." 

I slightly nod my head, thinking about his offer.

I mean, this could be my big break; security service for One Direction, the biggest boyband in the world. My uncle's cabin is a nice hideaway; it's by a lake, and surrounded by woods. There are only two roads that lead in and out. The cabin is completely secluded. 

He is back in Iraq anyway, serving the country in the Air Force, so I could give him a call. 

"Alright, just let me make a phone call." I say, standing up and walking to the corner of the room by the door. I see the boys all looking at me in hope.