Page 90 of How We Fooled

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Eli

I watch as they load Liza into the ambulance, feeling a little bit better about the situation, knowing she’s safe at least. I have no idea what’s going to happen to me, but all that matters right now is that she’s okay.

The officers go inside, then come back out to the car and open the door up to talk to me.

“How’s Liza? Is she okay? Where’s the closest hospital? How can I get there?” I ask before they can say anything to me.

“Just hold on.” He raises his hands out to me like he’s trying to calm me down. “She’s going to be just fine. The nearest hospital is about twenty minutes away. She’ll get checked out there.”

“Okay. Let me out of here so I can follow them to be there with her. I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Well, unfortunately, we can’t do that. We understand the situation a little more now, but the bartender still wants to press charges, so we have to take you in.”

“You have got to be shitting me!” I yell, fighting against my cuffs again. “My girlfriend is obviously not okay! I was trying to protect her.”

He sighs and nods. “If that is the truth, then the judge will drop the charges.”

“The judge!” I yell. “You can’t take me to jail. You don’t understand. This can’t happen.” I start to panic, and suddenly, breathing is getting harder and harder to manage.

He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side. “I’m pretty sure we do see what’s happening here, and since you’re over eighteen, that part has nothing to do with us. But I have to take you in. What happens from there is beyond my control.”

I kick the seat in front of me. “Fuck!”

They shut the door, and I close my eyes, letting a tear slip out.

Both of our lives are officially over.

They bring me to the local jail, where they take my fingerprints and photo.

“Who do you want to call to tell them you’re here?” the guy who’s finishing up my processing asks.

“I’ll call my mom,” I respond.

He hands me the phone, and I dial, praying she answers since it’s well past midnight and I know she’s asleep.

“Hello?” she asks sleepily, obviously confused as to why someone is calling her so late.

“Mom, I need your help.”

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Is Dad there?”

“Yeah. David, wake up. Eli is on the phone.”

“Eli?” I hear my dad say, along with the ruffling of the bed, like he jumped up. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been arrested,” I blurt out, ripping off the Band-Aid.

“You’ve been what?” Dad asks, his voice rising an octave.

“I need for you guys to come down here. Liza is not okay.”

Mom gasps while Dad just asks, “Liza?”

“I’ll have the police officer give you the address. Just get here as soon as you can, please. I don’t want her to be alone, but I don’t think she’ll call her aunt. She doesn’t know we were here together.”

---