The BLIND FAITH HOTEL by PAMELA TODD

The BLIND FAITH HOTEL by PAMELA TODD

Author:PAMELA TODD
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MARGARET K. MCELDERRY BOOKS
Published: 2008-07-15T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 19

Brenda Davidson closed the door to her office and motioned for Zoe and her mother to sit down as she rifled through a stack of papers on her desk, making them wait like two children who’d been instructed to just sit there awhile and think about what they’d done.

“So, Zoe,” she said. Her voice was raspy, startling in such a small space. “It looks like you’ve been assigned to court supervision.”

“Which means what?” her mother asked.

“It means that Zoe is mine. At least for the next six months. Your grades will come to me. Your teachers will tell me if you show up for class. Your mom …” She stopped and flipped through the papers again. “Dad’s not around right now, is he?”

“He’s fishing,” Zoe said. “That’s his job.”

“Well, then it looks like I’ll be calling your mom to make sure you’re in every day after school, hitting the books. And I don’t even need to tell you that you’d better not find yourself outside the house after curfew, do I?”

Zoe leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest.

“Then there are the classes twice a month.”

“Classes?”

“Girls night out, every other Friday: Everything you ever wanted to know about sex, gangs, drugs, and how to keep yourself out of trouble. No drinking, no smoking, no drugs. No illegal substances of any kind. No walking out of stores without paying for things ever again. And did I mention community service?”

“No.”

“You’re on the work detail at a nature preserve just west of here, every Saturday from now until mid-July. They’ll be sending me time sheets, so you’d better show up. And no, you will not be paid. And yes, you still have to pay restitution to the drug store.” She stopped and flipped through her papers again. “$32.95 for the breast enhancement cream, which, by the way, you do not get to keep.”

“It was only $29.99,” Zoe muttered.

Ms. Davidson looked up from her papers and gave Zoe a wry glance. “You forgot the tax,” she said. “And you owe them an apology. You play by the rules and we’ll wipe this whole thing off your record, assuming you don’t reoffend. You break any of the rules—curfew, grades, skipped classes, slacking off at community service, back-talking, and generally being obnoxious—and you’ll find yourself in front of the judge instead of me.”

“That’s it?” Zoe asked.

“Pretty much.”

“What if I don’t want to do it? Can I go to court?”

Ms. Davidson sat back in her chair and smiled tolerantly. She had clearly heard this question before. “You can, but you’d be making a bad trade: two years, maybe, instead of six months. The judge will most likely assign you a probation officer, put you on home confinement, and fit you with an ankle bracelet and monitor so they know if you go anywhere else, outside of school. And you’ll have a record.”

Ms. Davidson leaned forward and folded her hands on her desk. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, Zoe, but landing in my office is a good thing.



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