Like the daydream, hot-cop fantasy I’d had moments ago, my hands were tied behind my back and I was restrained by the law. But unlike my wet imagination, Officer Gotti Alessandro-Vollero-Gotti stood on the side of the road, next to Vamp, and held Hedda Hopper in his arms as I left him behind.
All I could think about, all I had promised myself I’d never think about again not after what had happened earlier was Mom.
Was Birdie alive? What about Kelle? Had I killed them both?
Orange isn’t the new black.
“By the seventh grade, the lack of parental guidance in our lives had become obvious. So Lex, Vive, and I had made a best friend pact. No matter where our lives led, we’d have each other’s back. Even in jail, charged with a felony and facing more years than ever imagined, we’d stick together, right? Tell that to Vive!” —Taddy Brill, emancipated minor from the Austrian Royal House of Brillford, future glamizon, and overall diva.
Worse Than Reality TV
Manhattan Detention Complex (The Tombs)
Mom and Kelle didn’t die. No bones broken. Not really.
However, I did add a number #11 to the list of worst moments of my life. Totally. It’s being arrested with my BFF and VBF on FDR Drive under the suspicion of arson and quite possibly—wait for it—attempted murder. I know!
“I should have never set fire to that dress and those pics.” I muttered to Taddy who stood next to me in the cell against the far wall.
The second they’d locked us in here we’d retreated to the corner to prevent the other inmates from gawking at us. I won’t even go into detail on the howling they’d done. Naturally those had been for skinny Vive and toned Taddy. “Sooie,” was all I got followed by several oink noises.
Curled up in a snit sat Vive being all dramatic. Her driver had been sent to another holding area down the hall and was charged along with us.
“Did you know Birdie’s oxygen facial tanks were under the bathroom sink and in the towel closet?” Taddy asked, crossing her arms in disbelief.
“No. I thought she’d kept all her anti-aging stuff in her own bathroom.”
Apparently, the nitrous oxide canisters were also stored in her bedroom, kitchen, and out by the bar.
“How come the place didn’t explode when Birdie caught that cashmere sofa on fire with her crack pipe a few weeks ago?”
Scratching my shoulder, I remembered Taddy had helped me clean up the mess. “The Fire Marshall thinks it was the shower curtain which transferred the fire from the tub to the wallpaper. He said once the bathroom caught fire the rest of the place was toast.”
“I refuse to believe anything that Fire Marshall says, especially since he thinks you did this on purpose. What was the word he used again?”
“Strategic. Yup, he’s convinced I strategically placed the tanks around the apartment then lit a match. Honestly, I’m not that smart.” I rested the back of my head against the cement wall. It was cold.
The jail’s air-conditioning made the place feel like a meat locker one minute, then it would cut off for a while and we’d overheat. Just when you couldn’t breathe, it would come back on again.
“Major geniusness when you think about it. But nah…you’d never intentionally kill Birdie, would cha?” Taddy asked in a throaty voice.
“Trust me. If I wanted to, I would’ve done it a long time ago. Mom and Kelle are both lucky to be alive.”
The State Prosecutor had to get a grand jury to agree on the attempted murder charge which could take several days. The district attorney accused Taddy and Vive of being my accomplices since they’d helped me get away. He’d called this a high profile case and wanted to expedite our arrest.
A few hours ago, we’d all three been booked on an A-1 charge—Arson in the First Degree, a major felony, and if found guilty, we’d face up to twenty-five years in prison.
Vive’s father, Mr. Farnworth, had shown up with his lawyer, Richard Shapiro. Taddy and I called him Dick, because he was one. At Dick’s suggestion, we’d pled not guilty during the arraignment.
Judge Calabrese had set our bail at forty thousand dollars each.
Like everything in this town, the entire process happened quicker than a New York minute.
Right now, we were waiting for the bail to post, which could take a few more hours. Then I assumed we’d all go back to Vive’s place and hide out till school started. The reporters were gonna feed on this story for weeks.
Knowing Mom, she’d probably use this window of opportunity to release a new music single and sell the story rights to be turned into a film. A Lifetime Movie popped in my head, one where I’d be played by Jessica Simpson or Mandy Moore. Ughhh.
“Taddy, if Mr. Farnworth doesn’t post our bail tonight, where are they sending us?” Reaching up, I put my arms over my head to stretch. The longer I stood in this cell, the more the space seemed to shrink.
“I heard a guard say we’d be transferred to Riker’s.”
“Where’s that?”
“In Queens. Darling, in less than one day, we’ve gone from the penthouse to the big house, let alone from Manhattan to Queens. I’ve never been to the boroughs before, have you?”
“Never…” Sure, I’d heard of this jail Riker’s. Wasn’t it right up there with Alcatraz? The walls were certainly closing in on me. I closed my eyes and tried not to panic.
“Well get ready, we’re going. Mr. Farnworth ain’t here, yet.” Taddy hugged herself. “I’m starving. All of this stress is making me hungry.”
It had to be sometime in the early evening, maybe five or six o’clock. Aside from a serving of an American cheese sandwich on white bread, which was thinner than a slice of toilet paper with a chunky layer of what the guard swore was mayonnaise, we’d not eaten.
“Me too. I could sure use a fuck-it bucket right about now.”
Every time anything horrific had happened in my life, I’d gone to Dylan’s Candy Bar and loaded up a bin with the best gummy candy and chocolate money could buy. Then I’d stuff my misery and wash the goodness down with a can of Yoo-Hoo. These prison bars prevented me from such necessities.
Hey now, wait a second. Forget the nappy nicotine gum. Maybe jail would be my new slim-down solution.
My friends at Columbia University would ask me when we started school in a few weeks, “Lex, you skinny bitch, did you finally go to Birdie’s cosmetic surgeon and get a li’l lipo?”