Before We Fall by Courtney Cole

you to ninety days’ community service at a local youth center and six months of probation. Learn from this, young lady. I don’t want to see you here again. If you perform every bit of your community service as ordered, I will think about expunging this from your record. My bailiff will give you the details.”
    Jacey turns around with tear-streaked cheeks, and I suck in a breath over her sentence. My lawyer shakes his head.
    “Don’t worry about it. She must’ve rubbed him wrong. You’ll be fine. She’s got a second-rate attorney who can’t argue shit. You’ve got me.”
    Unfortunately, as I stand in front of the judge a few minutes later, I can see that having four attorneys isn’t going to do me any good. In fact, it might just have the opposite effect. The judge’s eyes glitter as he stares at my legal team.
    “So, son. You think you can come to Chicago and do illegal drugs, then just hire a team of lawyers to get away with it?”
    “No, sir—” I start to argue, but he doesn’t give me the chance. He holds up his hand.
    “Uh, uh. I don’t want to hear it. I find you guilty of marijuana possession and I sentence you to ninety days of community service and six months of probation. I realize that you live in California, but you will remain here in Chicago until your community service has been served.”
    Before I can even say a word, my attorney sputters.
    “Objection!” he protests. “My client has obligations in California. He has a new film hitting production next week. In order to work and support himself, he must return to California. Can’t he serve his community service there?”
    The judge looks at us drolly. “Are you telling me that your client is on the verge of destitution if he can’t return to California? I find that hard to believe, and if that is the case, I of course would need to see some verification of that.”
    My attorney backpedals. “Of course that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that that this is his first offense and he deserves some leniency. If he’s not allowed to return home, it will drastically affect the production schedule of his next film, which will have negative ramifications for my client.”
    The judge smiles now, a humorless grin. “That, counselor, is not my problem. It should serve to teach your client a lesson. The sentence stands. The crime was committed here, the sentence will be served here. If he serves it out in complete compliance, it will be expunged from his record. The bailiff will have the details.”
    I’m stunned as I sit staring at my hands. Did that really just happen? I’m stuck in Chicago for three months?
And
I have a criminal record now? Holy shit. I glare at my high-priced lawyer.
    “So, apparently, you’re a second-rate attorney who can’t argue shit, either.”
    I ignore his protests and push away from the table, following the bailiff to learn the details of my sentence. Before the bailiff ducks into a room, he waves me toward Jacey, who is sitting on a bench in the hall. I join her, and together we sit and wait. She’s not crying anymore, but she seems just as distraught.
    “Can you believe this?” she moans as she drops her head into her hands. “Oh my god. This is crazy. If you would just tell them the pot was yours, this would all go away. You’re the freaking movie star. I’m sure you’re quite accustomed to making things disappear.”
    I stare at her mulishly. “Yeah, things like your assault charges?”
    Bright red flashes across Jacey’s cheeks and she looks away.
    “Thank you,” she finally answers reluctantly. “I don’t know why you did that, but thank you.”
    As she speaks, something crosses her face and she turns to me sharply.
    “Oh my god. You got those charges dropped because you felt bad about framing me for this, didn’t you? You can’t have this kind of publicity, so you made it look like the drugs were mine. But you’re not totally soulless, so you made my assault charges go