Except, of course, being arrested in front of the woman you'd been working your ass off to impress. For the first twenty minutes or so, I kept trying to convince myself that it was all a bad dream. Or a mistake that would be remedied as soon as I stepped into the police station. One of the uniformed officers walked alongside me, his hand gripping my inner arm like he thought I was going to bolt. I supposed plenty of people did, but I wasn’t going to. I wasn't an idiot. I knew I was innocent, and I'd never gotten on the wrong side of anyone at the DA's office or the police force. The smart thing to do would be to wait it out and let my attorney fight my battle for me. So while a part of me wanted to argue that I was innocent, I responded to their questions politely, even if it was only to say that I didn't want to discuss anything until I spoke to my lawyer. I didn't yell or threaten or even curse, though I was tempted.
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