I took a deep breath, tying my hair in an untidy ponytail. It would have to do for now, it seemed, as I would be going inside in a minute. I pulled my white gloves further onto my hands, concealing my wrists. I should have been accustomed to doing this by now, the court lobby was almost like a second home. In fact, without even looking at it I could describe the towering, wooden door that proved to be the only thing separating me from the trial at hand. Made some centuries ago, as I'd heard from the kindly secretary, Dana, said to be carved by the finest wood carver of the time. Each detail I had focused on many days before, from the smooth surface to the formal fleur-de-lis' that symmetrically complimented each other. The door would shine brilliantly at the hour of noon, making it quite the sight to behold. 

"Miss Rhea? You're up." A man gazed at me behind black spectacles and hazel eyes. He had opened the door, breaking my concentration.

"Of course," I replied, getting to my feet and leaving the warmth of the cushioned chair I had been sitting in. I entered the courtroom, where the eyes of the jury, judge, defense and prosecution alike were on me.

"Riley Rhea, I trust, is you, correct?" The judge clarified. I nodded. "Yes, your honour."

"Please continue with the procedure. Our defendant today is-"

"Excuse me, sir, but I'd like to tell you everything about him once I'm finished. Pardon my intrusion, but it should prove to those who are still disbelieving of my ability." The judge blinked, but nodded in his agreement. "Do what you must then." Gulping, I made my way to where the defendant stood a little uncertainly. "What are you gonna do?" he asked, eyeing my hand as I removed the glove.

"Hm? Nothing to you, sir, but it is the information inside your head that I hope to gather. Memories." I added, noting his confused glances. "May I see your hand?" I held out my naked palm expectantly. He complied, his hand shaking as it grazed my fingertip.

The room blurred out into nothing, coming back into one of the past. I saw the defendant, younger, healthier, with fresh stubble brushing against his smiling face. I scanned around me. A bar? How cliché. I haven't the taste for such things, from the other cases I've seen. There were men in the back, unusually loud due to the amount of empty bottles that littered their table. Disgusting.

I preferably directed my attention to the defendant, instead, where he was chortling and joking around with his friends.

"I don't see why not!" One of the friends said in a British accent, his glasses askew. Oh, a foreigner?

"Quit joshing me, guys. You know it'll never happen." The defendant spoke, his American accent clear and identical to the one he had today.

"Just ask her, it won't hurt." Another British accent. Come to think of it, could I be in The United Kingdom right now? It's happened before, watching someone travel to different countries. Perhaps so.

"Fine. Hey, Janice?" He gestured to the bartender, a thin, beautiful woman who seemed just old enough to work there in the first place. "Another round?" she asked.

"Ah, no. I was just wondering if, ah, maybe you would like to go for coffee sometime?" The defendant flushed. Janice tucked a loose hair behind her ear, the rest of her gingerbread mane in a braid. "Sure. How abouts tomorrow at six? That's when I get off."

I saw the evident smile that crossed his face, his eyes lighting up. "Great!" he said ecstatically. "I'll pick you up then. Do you mind Brambles?" Janice nodded shyly, but gave a stern look to the friend with glasses. "Moe, your glasses are all to one side again. Honestly, you should be able to live on your own by now." She straightened them, shaking her head.

The scene dissolved in a murky bubble, and I was transported to somewhere open. Outside, no less, in the heat of the afternoon, and in a meadow to boot. I saw the defendant, a teenager now, the friend with the glasses beside him. They were both sitting on the grass, enjoying the momentary sunshine.

"I can't believe you're going abroad," the defendant said. "it seems too surreal to believe."

"Don't worry," Moe said. "Either I'll visit you in the summer, or you'll visit me! We keep in contact that way, right?"

" 'Course. Don't forget though."

"Jim, you mistake me for someone who is forgetful."

"You are forgetful."

The scene disappeared, another shifting into view. A small boy, running along the meadow with a dog, a woman observing him, keeping watch. His mother. It was gone. Another: Jim as a man, in a dark alley. It blurred, but came back to the same place, only Janice was with him.

"Thanks for taking me out today, I had fun." She kissed him on the cheek. "Let's do it again, okay?" Jim beamed, knocking on the door with a sturdy fist. A loud shot echoed through the alley, and in an instant blood splattered everywhere. On Jim, the door, and especially Janice. She fell, the bullet firmly lodged in her head. Jim screamed, falling to his knees at the sight of her. He looked to the culprit, who was holding a pistol, frozen in terror of what he had done. I watched the events with grim amusement, predicting what would happen next. The man who had shot Janice ran off into the night, throwing his gun at Jim, who watched it fall beside him. The door opened, and another scream penetrated my ears. Oh, keep it down, please. The woman in the doorway cradled Janice's head in her lap, while Jim fumbled for his phone.

Scene shift. The police are questioning him, Jim is nervous. Too nervous. Accused of murder.

I lean back in my seat, the one I always generated when I did this. I'd created a white room, with a comfy armchair to comfort my nerves. His memories floated around me, all looking like a video tape, all barging their way to be seen first. They started to become demanding, all pushing against each other, and me.

"Stop." I said lazily. They came closer, suffocating. "Stop!" I shouted. They engulfed me, forcing me through every awful, happy, and sad memory that this man had throughout his life. "S-" I couldn't breathe, the memories were shoving themselves down my throat in an effort to be seen.

I jumped back, breathing heavily. Jim looked at me with wide eyes, scared that he did that to me. He offered a hand. Oh, I was on the floor. Lovely. I accepted his offer, coming to my feet and brushing myself off. "Sorry about the sudden scare," I cleared my throat off, the jury whispering about themselves.

"Order!" The judge commanded. "Well, what is your report? Tell me about the case."

"Of course," I took a deep breath. "The defendant here is known as Jim Foster, son of Erin Hemley and Thomas Foster, his parents were never married, but shared the time to care for their sun. Jim grew up in the country, as a boy he would play in the nearby meadow with his dog, Sam, and travelled to school via a busline that ran through the area. In school he met a foreign exchange student, Moe Crawford, who came from Bristol, England. They became close friends even throughout their teenage years, when Moe moved back to England. They stayed in touch until Jim reached manhood, lost contact for a year, but then another friend knew Moe and brought them together again. Jim made a trip out to Bristol, meeting Moe again as well as a few of his friends. They all went to the bar on March 14th, Thursday, 2053 at seven pm, and left later that night around midnight. During that time Moe and his friends convinced Jim to ask the pretty bartender out on a date, which she accepted to. They went to Brambles bakery on Friday at 6:15 pm for coffee and a snack. They left at 8:30, Jim driving Janice to her home. She thanks him, says they should do it again, and Jim knocks on the door. A man in black shoots Janice from behind, remains frozen for a moment, then throws his gun at Jim, it landing beside him to his right. The door opens, Katie Narl answering the door, horrified by her daughter's body. Janice was shot directly in the head, suffered little as she died instantly, and is having her funeral prepared as we speak. In short, the defendant here is guilty of no crime relating to this case."

I shuffled around uncomfortably. The words just came out of my mouth without warning. I gave a shortened version of this man's life, essentially.

"Hm, indeed." The judge stroked his beard in thought. "That is the truth of the matter."

"Objection! Your honour, how can we believe the words of a girl who has just arrived on scene, touched the defendant's palm, and spewed out this story? I think this evidence is false." The Prosecution objected.

"Objection overruled. We have lie detectors hooked on her person, therefore she cannot be lying about the scenes she has witnessed. I proved her ability myself when she first arrived in court many years ago. I see no lies within her statement." The woman who I knew as the Prosecutor gritted her teeth. I can see why it would be hard to believe. Looking into people's memories isn't exactly normal.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Rhea. You may leave." I bowed, turning around and exiting the courtroom. I hoped that Jim would make it out alright. Judging by his memories, he should. I have nothing to fear for him. I grabbed my satchel that I'd left in front of my chair and strapped it to my shoulder.

"Bye, Riley!" Dana, the secretary, waved cheerfully as I walked by.

"Bye!" I called back, exiting the house of law.

I breathed in the fresh air of the city. Well, maybe not as fresh as I would like it to be. I smiled, hopping on the street and heading to a building in the distance. TWDU, or Trinity Willard Duncan University, was a home to me, in a sense. Somewhere I could go from relaxing to a frantic panic in under a minute. How odd, the place where many fear going and are sad to leave is where I take my refuge.

I crashed onto my couch, kicking off my heels and instantly switching into sweatpants and a baggy shirt that said 1-UP! on the front. I reached underneath the couch, pulling hard, and evidently realizing it wasn't going to work. I sighed, reluctantly getting up and pulling it again. This time, the rest of the couch came with it, turning my couch into a bed. Satisfied, I crawled to the couch part of my bed, and pulled out my laptop. After logging in, I clicked a folder labelled 'School' that I had saved on my desktop. After clicking it, several more folders became available to choose from. I chose 'Psychology 101' and selected the review page I had written the other night. Considering I had fallen asleep the last time I read this, now would be a good time to freshen up. I glanced at some of the fun facts I had scribbled to keep my head in the game, one of them included "The Truman Syndrome is a psychological disorder in which patients believe they're living in a reality TV show." and "The average high school kid today has the same level of anxiety as the average psychiatric patient in the early 1950's." Those two were my favourites, so I glanced at them often.

Often enough to distract me from my schoolwork. The door opened with its usual creak, and a girl with boy short, blonde hair entered, popping her bubblegum. "Hey," she greeted me.

"Hey," I looked at her upside down. She wore leggings that shone with the purple colours of space, and a Doctor Who T-shirt. I never understood the show that she raved over, but she always seemed really into it.

"So how's it go? Guilty or not?" She threw her books in their corner. Her books had noticeably 'claimed' a certain spot in the corner of their room, piling high the more homework my roommate got.

"Horribly framed, nothing I haven't seen before. We should hear the 'Not Guilty' reigning over the hills in no time."

"Hah, you sure seem confident. I mean, with a power like that, I'm amazed you're still sane."

"I'll probably lose it soon, with all these tests coming up."

"Riley, you're too serious about your marks. You already have amazing marks, I've never seen someone achieve almost straight A's in Psychology!"

"But I know it can be better."

She put her hands on her hips. "Now, that's no way to think! You'll depress yourself, if you keep that up. Why don't you come out with me tonight? A couple of friends want me to tag along with them anyway, but we can always take off. I know how you are with parties."

"Ellie..."

"Nope. You're coming. If you can go into a court of law and make it out alive, you'll definitely survive this. Hey, I'll even treat you. Where do you wanna eat?"

"Ellie, you're running low on cash as it is. There's no need."

"So what? There's enough food in the fridge to keep me alive until my next paycheck. I'll just know better next time not to splurge on a sexy poster of David Tennant."

I gave her a contempt look. "You'll just get one of Matt Smith instead." She gave me a smile. "You know me too well, m'dear. We leave at six." I glanced at the clock. Quarter after five. Sighing, I returned to my computer screen, booting up a different set of notes. I had titled it "Blind Notes", for it was where I put all the nonsense that rattled in my brain. I scrolled through several paragraphs I had written in the past, and started a new one. I began typing.

Month XX Day XX Year XXXX

Defendant: Jim Foster Victim: Janice Narl Defendant's Friend: Moe Crawford

Unidentifiable character shot and killed Janice, framing Jim. Janice + Jim = potential love? Moe and Jim = childhood friends. Nothing new to remark on.

I sighed, taking my fingers away from the keys. The cases I got nowadays weren't anything interesting or difficult, just the same old thing over and over again. Perhaps once I graduate I can get a case tough enough for me to crack. Not only am I taking Psychology, but I'm shooting for a degree in law as well. I've had dreams of being a lawyer since I was a teenager, and ultimately decided it would be the career I wanted to pursue. So here I am, catching up on homework in my free time from classes, and already getting experience (even if it is a minute at a time) in the court.

Glancing at the clock, I was astonished to see half an hour had gone by. How long had I wasted away in my thoughts? It seemed like only five minutes had passed...well, no matter. I changed out of my sweatpants into a pair of black jeans and a red T-shirt that hugged at my curves. Just as I got the majority of the tangles out of my hair, I heard Ellie calling me.

Bracing myself, I stepped out the door with her, wondering what else was waiting for me in this world.

2: Pip Pip Cheerio

"Just choose a place." 

"I already said I don't care where we go."

"Riley for the love of everything holy and pure just choose somewhere to eat!"

"Aah! Okay, okay, what about there?" I pointed to a neon flashing sign.

"McDonalds? No. I'm talking sit down restaurant where we wait for beautiful well-cooked not plastic food!"

"Ellie," I sighed. "Fine. What about the one next to it?"

"Joe's? Hmm, okay. I haven't been there in months." She flipped on her signal, turning into the driveway happily. After she parked, we both stepped out of the car and closed the doors, Ellie pressing a button and smiling when the 'beep beep' of the car confirmed it was locked. "That is so satisfying." Ellie commented. I shook my head at her jokingly.

We walked into a dingy looking bar that was almost vacant, aside from two or three people scattered about. One was sitting at the bar, the other two playing a game of pool. As we sat in the squeaky bar stool, a grubby man with a curled mustache greeted us with cheer.

"Ah, Miss Ellie! How good it is to see you again! Who is your friend?" His voice had the slight shadow of an Italian accent, his eyes gleaming a joyful blue. 

"Joe, this is Riley. She's my roomie at TWDU, and enjoys being antisocial." 

"Ellie." 

"She also enjoys typing nonsense on her computer, and-" 

"Ellie." 

"Most of all she loves to tou-" 

"Ellie!" I flushed. "I can speak for myself." The bartender Joe let out a hearty laugh. "It seems like you two are fine friends. What'll it be, ladies? First rounds on the house!" 

"What? Are you sure? We can pay you know." Ellie's eyes raised in surprise. 

"Nonsense! I know how you are with money Miss Ellie. Your drinks are on the house, but I'll let you pay for the meal." his eyes twinkled when he smiled, revealing the rows of his teeth. I noticed that he had many fillings, perhaps the result of one too many sweets. 

"Oh alright. You can't keep treating me like this, okay?" she sighed. "I'll just have a Coke, I'm driving tonight. Riley?" 

"Water, please." 

"Riley," Ellie gave me a look. "Water is free here as it is. Please at least have one drink." 

"You are really trying, aren't you?" I mused. "Have it your way then, I'll have a Jack Daniels mixed with Orange Crush soda, please." 

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Jack Daniels, huh? I don't know you were into that stuff." 

I chuckled. "I had it once in high school, I guess the taste stuck with me all the way through." 

Joe returned with a clean glass filled half with the alcohol and half with the soda. He left the soda can beside the drink. "Feel free to mix it as you like. Would you girls like menus?" Ellie nodded, taking a sip of her own drink.

I glanced to the side, observing the man a couple seats away. He had a troublemakers smirk on his face, untidy brunette hair and emerald eyes. The man wore a baggy hoodie that bore the TWDU crest on the left shoulder, as well as a dirty pair of jeans that I suspected he'd probably worn throughout the week. He caught my eye, smirking, and I turned back to my drink. Weirdo. 

"We're you looking at him?" Ellie startled me. 

"No. I was merely observing him." 

"That's the same thing." 

"Shut up." 

Just then Joe arrived with our menus. Thankful for an excuse to avoid Ellie's questioning gaze, I looked at the sandwich selection. BLT, Club Chicken, none of it appealed to me. I glanced over my menu, only to see the smirking guy staring at me. I glared at him, trying to keep my eyes on my menu. 

"I gotta pee." Ellie announced, smiling at me and retreating to the ladies room. Gee, thanks best friend. 

I kept my eyes firmly on one item: a double cheeseburger. But he kept staring. I sighed.

"What?" I snapped. 

"Me?" he said, checking over his shoulder jokingly. 

"Yes, you. Why do you keep staring at me?" I scowled. 

"Aww, come on. Don't look so grumpy. You were a lot better when you smiled." 

"I suppose you want me to take that as a compliment." 

"That would be the ideal outcome." his eyes shone with interest. I made an 'ugh' sort of noise. "Well, you'll have to go find someone else that will buy your corny act, because it definitely isn't working on me." 

"I'm Pip," the guy said. "Some of my friends call me Pip Pip Cheerio as a joke." 

"I can see why it would be made as a joke." I retreated to my menu, ultimately deciding on a simple burger. Damn it all, I thought. I know your intentions are good, Ellie, but you didn't have to leave me here with this prick. 

"Say, what's your name? I'm honestly just curious. You are rather pretty." 

"I'd rather not say." I buried my face further into the menu. 

"Well, I'll guess then. Hmm..." He narrowed his eyes, as if peering farther at me than normal. Wait, that is farther than normal. Is he..? 

"Are you looking at my boobs?" I interjected, staring at him crossly. He instantly blushed. "Wh-What?! No! I'm not that sort of guy!" 

"I call bull. Why were you staring so intently then?!" 

"Have mercy on me Riley, please?" He placed his hands together, begging for my approval. I felt something sink into the pit of my stomach, and it wasn't my drink. "How did you know my name?" 

"Lucky guess?" I gave him a contempt look. "I heard your friend say it." 

"Alright. If you swear to stop being a jerk, I may consider you as an acquaintance. That means I'd rather not talk to you anymore tonight, so don't push it." I gave him a final glare, but Pip seemed happy enough, returning to his own drink and taking a swig. Ellie walked back to her stool, a smug grin on her face. "Well?" she asked. 

"You didn't have to leave. In fact, it may have been better if you stayed. I don't like him." 

"That bad, huh? Hey, guy!" she called over to Pip. What are you doing you idiot?! "You're a TWDU student too, right? Feel free to visit us in our room anytime. We're in room 20B. I'm Ellie, her roomie." 

He smiled. "You're a lot more friendly than Riley, for sure. I'm Pip. I'll definitely be seeing you two in the future." he chuckled warmly, downing the rest of his drink. "Ah, I must be going. Enjoy your dinner, ladies!" Then he left, waving as he went. 

"You didn't." 

"I did." 

"I hate you." 

"Liar." 

Joe came back, ready to take our orders. I got my burger, and Ellie got the Chicken Club sandwich. For the rest of the night she kept asking me questions about Pip, disappointed that I wasn't into him. "He's fairly cute," she said. "I think you'd do good to get in a relationship sometime." 

"No," I kept saying. "It would only add more stress to the giant load I have already. Besides, I want to wait until I find the one." 

"How do you know he didn't just leave?" 

"The number of times you've said that in the past is astounding, you know?" 

We finished our food, which was surprisingly delicious, thanked Joe and paid, and then were back in our dorm in no time. I flopped on our couch-bed, the warmth of the sheets pulling me into sleep. Ellie curled up beside me, instantly blacking out. I wished I could fall asleep that easily. I yawned, and let myself relax until sleep finally pulled me under. 

3: The Questionable Case

I woke up, blinking a few times to take in my surroundings. Right, I was back in my dorm. I heard rhythmic breathing beside me, glancing over to see that Ellie had taken my arm hostage and was cuddling against me. Skin against skin, I thought, the feel unfamiliar.

Months ago, when I had first met Ellie, she was skeptical when I didn't want to shake hands. She kept a wary eye on me all day, and finally when we arrived in our shared dorm for the first time, she cornered me.

"What's your deal?" she had said. "You refuse to touch anyone, whether it's a handshake or a graze of the finger! Are you some sort of germaphobe?"

"U-Uh..." I backed against the wall. "N-No, it's just...I c-can't say..."

"You can't say? Come on, enough bull!"

"I really can't...I'm sorry."

"Tell me!" She narrowed her eyes, and swiftly pulled off my glove. "Hey!" I exclaimed.

"No. You're gonna have to get over this, okay? I'll help you through it. It's for your own good." Then she grabbed my hand with hers.

Skin on skin. Her memories all flashing through my head in a daze, circling, stifling, suffocating. I could only stand there and let it happen. A while later, I woke up. Ellie was leaning over me, a worried look in her eyes. "Jesus Christ! Are you okay?!" She had offered a hand, but quickly withdrew it. I blinked, but smiled, and took her hand. Nothing appeared.

"I need to tell you something." I had said.

I flashed back to reality, Ellie's grip on my arm lighter than imagined. I slipped out of her grasp quietly, not daring to wake her. Glancing at the time, I saw it was five minutes before my alarm would have gone off. God dammit. I walked over to a mirror, conveniently located beside our dresser. What a bedhead, as per usual. I grabbed my brush from atop the dresser, my eyes catching onto Ellie's wallet.

I hesitated, and glanced at her. She wouldn't know the difference, would she? No, I smiled. She wouldn't. I pulled open a drawer, and searched until I found my wallet. Digging around, I pulled out two twenty dollar bills and placed them inside Ellie's wallet. Thanks, but you need it more than I do. I gingerly put her wallet back where I found it, and went back to combing the knots out of my hair just in time to hear the beeping of the alarm startle Ellie awake.

"I'm awake!" she announced, shooting out of bed. I laughed. "Relax, it's the first alarm. You have plenty of time until class to get ready."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. For a second I thought I slept in again. What day is it again?"

"Monday."

She made a face.

"I have English first thing? My schedule is bogus."

"Nobody says bogus any more."

"I do. Can you pass me my pit stick?"

"Why do you call it that?"

"Just pass it to me. Please." I rolled my eyes, grabbing her deodorant and throwing it at her. It landed on her chest, causing her to make an "Oomph!" noise, but she accepted it all the same. "What do you have first again?"

"Law." I glanced over at my textbook, a whopping seven hundred pounds to throw around.

"Oh, yeah. How is law anyway? I've been considering switching." 

"It's not you, I'll say that much." I smiled. "You really don't have a plan, do you?"

Ellie glanced to the side. "Maybe. What about you, Miss Lawyer?" 

I giggled. "Well, it's precisely that. You already know I'm going to be a lawyer. Why ask again?" 

"I don't want to be an engineer." 

"Then don't. You're only in the basic courses, aren't you? You can still switch to whatever come next semester." 

"Do you think I'd make it as a Designer?"

"Like a fashion one?" 

"No, an Interior Designer. Or an Architect. I love that crap." 

"So go for it." I checked my watch. "Shoot, gotta go. We'll continue this conversation later." I felt bad for cutting it short, but had to get to my classroom sooner rather than later. 

"Hakuna Matata, amigo." 

* * *

I slipped into my regular seat, in the middle of everything. Not too close to the front, but not too far at the same time. I like this spot, it made me feel blended in enough with the rest of the crowd to not freak out about trivial things. 

"Ah, we meet again." The voice made me freeze in my spot, halting all attempts to set up my laptop and looking to my left to see him. 

"Pip," I said. "What are you doing here?" 

"Same as you. I'm here to learn." 

I stifled a laugh, returning to unzipping my bag and booting up my laptop. "Really? You, of all people?" 

"Would you believe me if I told you I'm getting a Bachelor of Arts?"

"Somewhat. I've never seen you here before, though. Explain that." 

"I always sit in the back corner. Plus, I'm not always this early." He chuckled softly. 

"Hm, I'm not entirely sure about that story. It's a little suspicious. I'll choose to believe you for now, though." 

"I'm honoured." He leaned back in his chair. I glanced at the front to see the teacher about to start his lesson. 

"Get ready to learn." I smirked at him, my hands already poised to begin typing at a moments notice. Pip stayed the way he was through the whole lecture, not bothering to take any notes. I found myself wondering why he even bothered to show up if he couldn't make an effort to learn the material. I shook the thought away, telling myself to focus on the matter at hand.

* * *

The lecture finished almost as quickly as it had started. I did a quick scroll through my notes, three pages full of text. Oh, boy. That would be a monster to study. Shrugging, I closed the lid of my laptop and squished it in my bag.

"Catch you later," Pip said, waving as he walked out of the room. I still didn't understand what his interest was with me. It was a theory for another day, I suppose. 

I strolled out of the room, my mind beginning to wander. It had to be around lunch time...my eyes spotted a vending machine and I made a beeline for it. Reaching into the side pocket of my bag, I pulled out my wallet. Black, standard, and not really much to it. I sighed. Maybe I should get one of those key chains or something, I thought. I put in some of my spare change, hitting the buttons C-4 and watching as my delicious bag of chips slowly unraveled from the metal coil. 

With a satisfying plop I went to claim my prize, some sweet Dill Pickle flavoured potato chips. I pulled the crinkly package open, slightly self-conscious that everyone was staring at me, and dug in. I got about three chips down when I heard my phone ring.

We built this city!

We built this city on rock and roooooll, oooohhhh!

I hummed along with it for a second, pressing the talk button and pressing the cool metal against my ear.

"Hello?" I said.

"Riles," a man said. I recognized it as one of the people I knew from court.

"What's up, Marcus?"

"I've found a new case for ya. Woman and children killed in a fire, husband the only one left alive, police think he started the fire, standard crap."

I sighed. "Boring, but I'll take it. Where's the guy being held up at?" The faint sound of Marcus ruffling through papers and I got my answer.

"Detention Center. You remember where that one is, right?"

"'Course. I'll be there asap. Guess I'll see you around, then."

"Bye." I hung up the phone, sticking it back into my pocket. Did I have any other classes today? There was Psychology at three-thirty, so I have plenty of time to head over there. I crunched on the last of the chips, crinkling up the bag and throwing it in the trash. Next stop: Detention Center.

* * *

It was always a dreary place, the Detention Center. It always made me feel as though there was some sort of impending doom that would strike this building, and this building only. Then again, those who were convicted here probably felt the same. As soon as I walked in the door, the stubbly, tired eyes of Marcus met mine.

"Hey! You made it." He hurriedly walked towards me, giving me a quick briefing of who we were dealing with. "His name's William Foreson, a mill worker, father, etcetera. While the police are pinning this one on him, he keeps on pleading that he's innocent. You can clear this one up, right?" Marcus spoke rather quickly, but it was a trait I was very well accustomed to by now.

"Sounds simple enough. Can I talk to him?"

"Yep. I've gotten the okay from the lady at the desk. He'll come to this spot right here." He guided her to the spot in question, which was as far away from other people as they could get. There was a thick wall of glass that separated the two rooms, and a phone for talking. I sat down patiently, and in a couple minutes a man approached the cubicle, nervously fiddling with his fingers. We both picked up the receivers.

"Hello," I began.

"Hi," he said hesitantly, his voice obviously exhausted and beaten down. He didn't look too good either. His blonde hair was matted and tangled, the shadow of a beard already thickly growing in, his aqua eyes hiding a tale of sadness that I couldn't decipher.

"So you're William Foreson?" I inquired, pulling out a notebook and pen. He seemed to take on an even more ghastly look.

"You're not one of those reporters, are you?" His voice sounded defeated.

"Wha- of course not!" I objected. "Forgive me, I should have introduced myself. I'm Riley Rhea, a becoming lawyer. I'm here to help you."

"A becoming lawyer?" William questioned.

"I'm...still in school," I admitted sheepishly. "But I have special...expertise that lets me take on cases. I've already helped solve a handful of other cases, and now I'm here to help you. Is that alright?" William nodded glumly. I couldn't tell if he simply didn't care or if he truly understood. Seeing as the glass between us was a problem, I couldn't just peer into his memories just yet. I suppose it was time to use what I had learned in school to my advantage.

"So, I understand that you have recently experienced a great tragedy, William." I decided to start right into it, but not too harshly.

"Call me Will," he insisted. "I should've expected that was why you came to see me. Please, just know that from the bottom of my heart...I'm innocent."

"I'm not here to convict you, Will," I assured him. "I want to prove your innocence. But, to do that, I need you to answer some questions. Are you willing to cooperate?" He nodded, his eyes boring into me still with that undefined sadness. I figured it must be from losing his family all at once - it would send anyone into a shock. I spent a good hour talking as much out of him as I could. It was a simple story, but a complex problem. According to Will's alibi, he was sleeping next to his wife when the fire started. He tried to save her as well as his two kids, but ultimately couldn't. One of the kids died shortly after getting to the hospital, and the other two within the burning building itself. I figured it wouldn't hurt to visit the building, but I'd have to do it later; my Psych class was approaching quickly.
 

The evening air was sweet and cool to the senses. I walked across campus, having just finished putting my supplies back in my room, and sought to grab something small to eat. Normally I wouldn't eat out so often - two nights in a row was unheard of - but I felt no obligation to cook tonight, either. I had quite a bit of money to spare, as well, so I could afford another night. 

"Where to, Riley?" I almost shouted, but quickly composed myself. "Oops, made ya jump." Pip bounced beside me, an eager smile playing his lips.

"What do you want?" I sighed.

"I'm just tagging along. Where to?" he asked again.

"I'm going to get something to eat." I wasn't quite sure why I told him the truth.

"Two nights in a row? You're going to be broke, and probably gain some weight while you're at it." 

"Shut up!" I shot him a look. He seemed more pleased than anything.

"But, I came here to ask you something." He stopped walking. So did I.

"Out with it, then." I looked him in the eye. He had very deep, entrancing green eyes, and I found it difficult to stop looking once my gazed was fixed upon him.

"Would you like to come on a picnic with me? I'll supply the food." He had a playful smile across his lips.

"A picnic?" I questioned. "Surely people don't go on picnics anymore in this day and age."

"So then let's take a trip to the past." He took a step closer to me. "I'll make sure that nobody will make fun of us or anything, if that's what you're worried about."

"N-No, that's not it." I pondered the thought for a moment. "A picnic, then? Sure, I have nothing to lose. When?"

"Tomorrow at noonish. I'll meet you on top of the hill behind the science building, okay?"

"Okay." I smiled, opening my mouth to say goodbye.

"It's a date, then." Pip grinned, dashing away before I could say anything. As soon as the words sunk in I had to stop myself from yelling after him. A date? He couldn't be that foolish. Then again, I was the one who accepted...I shook the phrase from my head. Date or not, I needed to get some food in me now if I ever wanted to make it to tomorrow. I continued on my way, trying to decide on what I'd have for dinner instead. 

* * *

A-A new chapter? Of a story I haven't updated in a while?! Without warning?! Yeah, actually. I have good plans for this story as well as the others I've been working on, and I figured now would be a good time to update it. Why? I dunno, ask the author. ...wait. Er, anyway, I don't think I'll be updating this story that much in the near future, but I haven't forgotten about Riley and the gang. So here's an unexpected update for you all. Y'all.