1: He's bad news!

Maxine.

"Maxine Carlisle! Your bail's been posted... you're free to go!" the prison cell I was confined in opend, and I was finally free to leave.

I've heard a lot of people complaining about how terrible their experiences in jail were... but to be honest, it actually isn't that bad! A couple of roaches here, and a few rats there, but that's basically about it! Nothing as bad as they make it sound like in the movies. But then again, I've only been here for like, I don't know, an hour? Those guys have spent years, even decades in here! So some people might argue that my 'jail term' doesn't exactly count... well I still argue that it does!

The officer led me to the front desk, where I found Jackson, my father's right hand man back at the company, impatiently waiting for me. And when he saw me, he noticably seemed more relaxed, and his usual goofy smile was back on his face.

"Miss Carlisle, it's been a while," he gave me a respectful nod, and strangely enough, I reciprocated it, an action that he must've thought was funny because it made him chuckle, "You actually bowed back... don't tell me that jail has broken you already,"

"Oh please, don't exaggerate... jail just has a way of messing with people's heads,"

"I can see that,"

"Where's my father?" I asked, a question I had a feeling I very well knew the answer to.

"He had to attend an urgent meeting... he sent me to come and pick you up... take you to the office," he stated, handing me my bag, the one those unsympathetic cops confiscated from me when they arrested me.

I'm not a paranoid person, don't get me wrong, and I won't start blabbing how I have 'trust issues' that's not my thing. But fun fact, I DON'T TRUST ANYONE! Not my teachers, not my classmates, not my brother, and definitely not the police. So nobody can really blame me for searching my bag to confirm that everything was still there. Not that I think they'd actually steal from me, I mean why would they do that? It's totally absurd. But let's be real here, it wouldn't exactly hurt to check.

And I'm glad I did because...

"Something's missing!" I turned towards the officer, who was now handing some papers for Jackson to sign.

"And what's that?" by virtue of he didn't even bother to face me when he spoke, not to mention the way his voice changed, and his expression turned dulled, I could tell that he was beyond disinterested.

"My spray cans,"

"They're in the evidence section___"

"Well go get them," at my arrogant tone, he finally looked up at me.

"Things don't work that way here. Your whims won't help you. This isn't your father's company," No idea what he was implying but...

"Trust me, if this was my father's company, you'd have lost your job already,"

"Are you threatening an officer?... In a police station?"

"By virtue of my dad doesn't own the station, I don't think it qualifies as a 'threat'" I quoted the word in the air, which he didn't like.

"You aren't getting them back. You used them  to vandalize public ___ "

"I didn't 'vandalize' anything. It was a boring ass wall and I made it beautiful!"

"The term we use here, is vandalism," I hated the sarcasm in his voice.

"I'm pretty sure our art's teacher didn't call it that,"

"Listen Miss Carlisle, you broke the law! You aren't getting your spray cans back. And if you have a problem with it, feel free to bring it up with your lawyers," he had a stupid amused smirk on his face. I didn't like it one bit. I was starting to have an extremely huge dislike for this cop. I give respect where it's due, and he doesn't deserve it one bit. If he's looking for a fight, I'll gladly give him one.

"Just give the girl her spray cans back," another officer walked to the desk, and by the number of stars on the uniform, I could tell he had a higher rank.

"But Boss___"

"The vandalized wall has already been taken care of. There won't be any need for evidence. She can have them back,"

"But___" 

"That's an order,"

"If you have a problem with that, you can bring it up with your lawyers," it was my turn to gloat at him, and his jaw twitched... he was turning red with rage and I was not kidding.

The other officer groaned in annoyance, but seemingly having no other option, he gave his senior officer a salute, one that clearly pained him, and headed towards a direction I assumed was the evidence section.

Jackson and the senior officer began speaking in rather hush tones, and it didn't, in any way, concern me. I didn't even bother earsdropping. I already had my phone back with me. And I could think of a million things I could do other than listening in on them. I was already bailed out, and that was all that mattered at the moment.

I scrolled through my phone... for the latest news and shit. And of course the 'Daily Gossip Vlog' had it all.

'EXPENSIVE WALL VANDALISM AT TOWN SQUARE... ANOTHER CARLISLE REBELLION.' And there was a picture of me being arrested. Why am I not surprised.

I have no idea why I even subscribed to their notifications in the first place. Gossip has never really been my thing. But then again, it sometimes helps to know what goes around in town, even though this specific news wasn't exactly news to me. And I know that this isn't exactly a good image, considering how well known my dad is, but come on... there is no such thing as bad publicity right? 

A couple of messages from Logan, my brother, all of which I ignored. I didn't need his lectures right now, cause I'm pretty sure that was the reason he had texted me.

A voice mail form Clint, that dumb-ass who ditched me when I got busted. We were together, just me and him, and when the cops showed up, he ran... that idiot left me behind, and he didn't even look back. And now, he was going to act like none of that sh*t even went down. What happened to being partners in crime and sh*t? What happened to sticking together?

Still, I had the patience to actually listen to whatever it was that he had to say for himself. Who knows, it could be less pathetic.

"Babe... if your listening to this, then it means that they already let you out... which is a good thing cause I was worried sick! Please call me when you get this message... Love you. Call me."

        Barf! Barf! Even more BARF!

His message made me want to throw up in my mouth a little. It was pure bullsh*t! And the 'love you' part? Eew! He's just ruined the entire vibe I thought we had. And still, I called the guy, and that was around the same time that rude cop came back with my spray cans in a box... and no, he still didn't look happy.

As Clint's phone rang, the officer placed the box on the counter in front of me, and I guess he couldn't suppress the urge to express how mad this entire situation was for him. And his Senior was busy, so I'm guessing he couldn't hear a thing.

"It's utter bullshit how you screw up all the time and daddy's always there to get you out! One day, he won't be there to dig you out of whatever hole you'd have put yourself in. And maybe, you'll get out of whatever fantasy you're living in!"

Okay fine, maybe this isn't the first time I've been in jail. Just like the other three times I've been here, it was for 'vandalism of public property'. I still don't understand why they insist on calling it 'vandalism' when I'm doing them all a favor. And unfortunately, this is what I have to deal with every time I get detained.

Of course all I could do was nod at the cop and give him a fake smile. As much as I simply adore pushing his buttons in all the wrong ways, arguing with him right now seems like a lot of time wastage.

"Max! Babe! What's up?" Clint finally answered the phone. And something about the way he called my name just pissed me off. Or was it the fact that he called me 'babe'? Or maybe it was just simply how he began the conversation? Probably everything... beginning with his annoying voice.

"'What's up'? Are you f*cking asking me 'what's up'? You f*cking lied to me, that's what's up! Kept yapping on and on about how we'll be f*cking partners in f*cking crime! But where were you when things went south?"

"Babe___"

"And now you have the f*cking audacity to f*cking call me, to f*cking ask me if I'm f*cking okay?" Okay fine, so maybe I curse a lot when I'm mad... and I'm usually mad most of the time so yeah, I guess it's something I do ever so often. A habit I guess. I am, of course, not sorry for it. I wouldn't apologize either, not to Clint, and definitely not to all the people who were shooting me really weird looks. No doubt about my manners... or lack of.

"Max come on___"

"Do  you know how ridiculous you sounded? Mumbling your f*cking 'mumbo- jambo' sh*t about being worried sick about me? And love? You f*cking disgust me!"

"Oh come on Max! You haven't even stayed an hour in this place! Your father is Michael f*cking Carlisle! I knew you wouldn't have stayed detained for long... your father would have immediately bailed you out... and he has! Me on the other hand, I'm a nobody... my father's a nobody! If I got caught, I wouldd have had nobody to bail  me___" 

"So we're going to go with that pathetic excuse for... what, the third time?" I packed up my spray cans in my bag, as I left the police station. This was a conversation I opted to finish outside, "Don't bullsh*t me you stupid___"

"Max___!"

"Fool me once, shame... Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice, b*tch, I ain't your kid! I won't be carrying your  cross the entire f*cking time. I'm f*cking done being your get-away card! Whatever it is the two of us had, it's f*cking done!"

"But___"

The phone went dead. Okay fine, it didn't go dead, I'm the one who hang up. I didn't need to hear his excuses. We have done a lot of sh*t together, but I'm always the one getting caught. I'm not complaining about getting arrested. What pisses me off is the excuse he gives me every time it happens. That idiot always gives me the same excuse. 'my dad has the power to get me out'! Of course there is some truth to it, but I still don't appreciate the betrayal. Some may argue that he has a solid point, which he does, but I don't do that sh*t alone. It's bullsh*t for him to be throwing me under the bus all the time when these type of things happen. I was personally sick and tired of it.

"Relationship gone wrong?" Jackson appeared beside me, and together, we walked down the remaining steps towards the car.

"I wouldn't exactly call it a relationship,"

"So you didn't just insult your boyfriend on the phone... or break things up?"

"We were never really a thing to begin with," I told him as he opened the back door for me.

"If you say so," he shrugged as I entered the car. He shut the door and took to the driver's seat. 

"I don't mean to frighten you but..." he began, staring at me through the rear-view mirror, debating whether or not he should actually tell me.

"I don't get frightened Jack," 

"Your father seemed really upset when he was informed that you were detained again,"

"Oh come on, he's always mad about something... Nothing really new___"

"He called your brother for advice!" Okay, so maybe that's something new. And it is a bit worrying.

Dad never calls Logan for whatever reason... so this... this information definitely didn't settle well with me.