"Where did you go when you snuck out?”
"I rode my bike over to this girl's house. Her parents are out of town.”
"You're 13!”
"What? She’s hot.”
"How long were you at her place?”
"I don't know. Maybe till midnight.”
I didn't want to ask, but I did. "What did you do?”
"We watched a movie.”
I'm not sure I believed him. "Ineed her name.”
"You’re not going to get her in trouble, are you? That's really going to screw things up for me.”
"Believe me, if she can’t verify your whereabouts, then this is going to get a whole lot worse for you.”
Bobby scoffed. "I'm a juvenile. You can't do shit to me.” This time, he didn't apologize for the language.
"What's her name?”
"Am I under arrest or something?”
"Not at this time.”
"So I don't need to say shit to you.”
"It would be a lot easier if you cooperated.”
"Can I go now? I'm missing out on a valuable education.” Bobby didn’t care about his education.
"What's the girl’s name?”
Bobby stared us down for a moment. "I want an attorney."
"You're not under arrest.”
"So, I’m free to go?”
"What do you think is going to happen when your dad finds out you took his gun to show your friend?”
"Your word against mine.”
I laughed. "How about I call him right now and tell him it's underneath your mattress?”
The muscles in Bobby's jaw flexed. He didn’t like that idea. "Okay. Lana Wexler.”
"You got a number for Lana?”
"Maybe.”
"If you haven't figured it out yet, I’m trying to help you.”
"You're trying to put me in jail.”
