Changing Lives by Mabel Marsters

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Chapter 22

The next month passed uneventfully enough, with Spike meeting up with Angel and Davey at school each day. At lunchtime the three of them would sit in the bleachers drinking, or at least that’s what Spike thought; in reality only his drink had alcohol in it. In the classroom he sat at the back and did the minimum amount of work possible. Each weekend they went to The Bronze. When Angel caused any trouble either at school or The Bronze, Spike managed to avoid actually having to join in. He just stayed on the sidelines laughing at the unfortunate recipient of Angel’s attentions, but despite this his reputation as a troublemaker grew.

Oooooo

Spike joined up with Angel and Davey after school on Friday night, with the plan being to go drinking in the park before going to The Bronze. Since Angel had fake ID he was bringing the liquor. Spike was edgy; he wanted a drink and had given Angel enough cash to buy an extra bottle for him to have at home. He’d used up all the alcohol he could find in his old house, sneaking in there at night. His mom hadn’t made a will so everything was taking a long time to sort out and apart from him taking the liquor the house remained untouched.

“Did yer get it?” asked Spike as soon as he saw Angel.

“Not yet,” he replied.

“Shit! Why not?” complained Spike.

“Was running late that’s all,” said Angel, “Come on, we’ll go and get it now.”

Spike missed the ‘look’ that passed between Angel and Davey; all he was focussed on was getting a drink. They all went into the store, Spike hung back with Davey as Angel picked up two bottles of vodka and made his way to the counter.

“So what do you want to do?” asked Davey with an eye on Angel who was talking quietly on his cell phone. He’d caught a glimpse of a red haired girl and wondered if it was Willow and if it was, would Buffy be with her? He still hadn’t managed to talk to her.

* “God, I need a drink. Wot’s takin’ Angel so long?” *

He glanced round to see Angel walking towards him.

“Here you go, buddy,” said Angel, handing him two bottles.

They all walked to the door.

“Hey Angel, you’ve forgotten my beer,” moaned Davey.

“Oh right, I’ll go get it. What kind do you want?”

“I’ll have a look,” said Davey, “We’ll catch up to you.”

“Okay,” said Spike, carrying on out of the door. He glanced up and down the street before unscrewing the top from one of the bottles and taking two long slugs from it. He closed his eyes, savouring the warmth it brought. He opened his eyes and took a couple of steps back. Two cops were standing in front of him.

* “Shit! Is there a law against being underage and drinking on the street?” *

“Can we see some ID?” asked the taller of the two officers.

“No,” said Spike.

“No?” repeated the cop. He looked at his partner than back at Spike. “Wrong answer, give my partner the bottles.”

“I only meant that I don’t ‘ave any on me at the moment.”

“How about a receipt for the liquor?” asked cop number two, taking it from him.

“I didn’t buy it.” He looked around but there was no sign of Angel or Davey.

“We know that part.” Cop number one said, “Come on, you’re coming with us.” He got hold of Spike’s arm and pulled him forwards.

“Get yer ‘ands off me. I’ve done nothin’ wrong,” protested Spike, trying to get free.

The officer swiftly changed his grip and pulled Spike’s left arm painfully up behind his back. Spike arched his back trying to lesson the strain on his arm and was pushed along back to the entrance to the liquor store.

“That’s him,” said the shopkeeper, pointing at Spike, “About time you caught one of the thieving kids I have to put up with.” He glared at Spike who glared back.

“I didn’t steal anythin’. My mate bought it.”

“So where is your friend now?” Cop number two asked.

Spike looked around desperately to his horror he didn’t see Angel or Davey but Willow and Buffy walking towards him. He felt himself flush; his face was burning as she came nearer.

“Let’s get you to the station,” said number one, roughly pushing Spike into the patrol car.

Spike avoided Buffy’s eyes as she looked at him in the car.

“God, he must have been caught stealing,” said Buffy. “Serves him right.”

“I wonder if he was like this in England?” said Willow.

“Why would it matter? I pity poor Mr. Giles having to put up with him,” replied Buffy. She liked the new librarian.

“Just wondered if it was a reaction to losing his family, you know, a cry for help?” said Willow, always trying to see the good in people.

“No excuse for stealing,” said Buffy with all the fervour of someone whose mom is in the retail trade, “and look what he’s like at school, hanging out with Angel, joining in when he picks on kids. Poor William spending his last weeks with him and he was looking forward to the trip so much.”

Willow looked at Buffy, “What, you don’t think he’ll have been like that with William, do you?”

“Who knows? But it didn’t take him long to hook up with Angel. Even if William had never said anything to him, he’s got to have known what Angel was like after a couple of days but he still hangs out with him.”

“But no one else spoke to him Buffy. We didn’t speak to him, didn’t even tell him we were friends with William,” replied Willow.

“Yeah, I know, but that first week we decided to leave him in peace. He looked so shut off we didn’t know how to approach him, it wasn’t like we could go up to him and say ‘hi, we knew your dead cousin’ could we?”

“When you put it like that….”

“And then when he started hanging out with Angel - to be honest I didn’t want to talk to him. You saw he’d stolen that t-shirt from the mall, right?” continued Buffy, who tended to see everything in black and white.

“I know, I just can’t help feeling a bit sorry for him though,” said Willow.

“Mm,” said Buffy noncommittally.

Ooooooo

This time, when seated in the back seat of the patrol car, Spike didn’t have a kind policewoman at the side of him. He was sitting in it alone, with mesh separating him from the cops in the front of the car. At the station he was brought out of the car and taken into a small room, after he’d told them his name, age, and Rupert’s name, address and telephone number.

“Wait here,” ordered the cop.

Spike sat down at he table and looked around.

“Christ, Rupert’s going to freak out.”

He couldn’t sit still; he got up and paced around the room. The door opened. He stood still as a plainclothes officer walked in, his suit crumpled and looking far from happy at being there.

“Sit down.”

Spike hesitated, not out of defiance, more that he was too afraid to move.

“I said sit down,” growled the cop walking up to Spike and looking down at him, he was at least six inches taller than him.

Spike sat.

“We’re waiting for your guardian to arrive,” he said.

Spike said nothing, just swallowed hard.

The cop sat there in silence for the next ten minutes until the door opened again and Rupert was shown in. Spike glanced up but looked back down quickly when he saw the look on Rupert’s face.

“Mr. Giles,” said the officer, “I’m Detective Roberts, thank you for getting here so quickly.”

“What’s going on? I wasn’t told anything, just that Spike, er, James was here,” said Rupert, the strain evident in his voice.

Rupert looked at Spike but he wouldn’t meet his eye, just kept fiddling with his hands on the table.

“Sit down, sir,” invited Detective Roberts. Rupert sat next to Spike, “I’m afraid James here was caught stealing two bottles of vodka.”

“I didn’t.” said Spike quietly.

“What?”

“I keep tellin’ yer but yer won’t listen. I didn’t pinch them,” Spike looked at Rupert, “I didn’t Rupert, ‘onest.”

Rupert looked at the officer. “What happened exactly?”

“I couldn’t speak to James until you were here but two uniformed officers caught him with two bottles of vodka just outside the store. The owner identified him as being in the store and the security tape shows him walking out with them. He was drinking from one as the officers found him. James, what do you have to say about it?”

Spike glanced up at the two men.

“Um, I didn’t steal them, I thought my mate ‘ad paid for them.”

“If that’s so, where did he go to? There was no sign of anyone else there.”

“I dunno,” muttered Spike.

“Spike, come on, tell the truth,” urged Rupert.

“It is the bloody truth. Angel was supposed to buy it, okay?”

“Would that be Liam O’Connor?” asked Detective Roberts.

“Yeah that’s ‘im, ‘ave yer asked ‘im?” asked Spike.

“That was the person who reported the theft.”

“He wot?” shouted Spike, standing up, “He set me up, the git!”

“Sit back down,” snarled the officer.

Spike sat down. He couldn’t believe it, why would he do something like this?

“Angel?” queried Rupert, “I thought he was your friend?” He looked at Spike then back at Roberts, “Perhaps he did trick Spike, um, James. A prank perhaps?”

“When he called he said it was because he was worried about the amount his friend was drinking, that it was getting out of control and he was stealing other things to pay for it too.”

“Is this true, Spike? I can’t believe you’re drinking,” said Rupert.

Spike hung his head. “Um.” Was all he could manage.

“Detective Roberts, may I speak with you in private please?”

“Sure,” said the officer, getting up. “You just stay sitting there,” he added to Spike.

Spike watched the two of them go out of the room, closing the door behind them. He felt totally ashamed of himself.

* “God, Spike, yer are a stupid git. William wouldn’t ‘ave been so bleedin’ stupid, and drinking…after what it did to Mom and Dad….” *

He put his head in his hands. After what seemed like an age the officer and a grim faced Rupert came back in. Spike hardly dare look at them. Detective Roberts sat down opposite him.

“Right, James, you can go.” Spike looked up. “Mr. Giles has told me all you’ve been through and has compensated the store owner so he’s dropped the charges.” Spike slumped with relief. “But I’m warning you,” the officer leant close to Spike, “If I see you in here again things will be different, okay? Okay?” he repeated as Spike stayed silent.

“Okay, sir,” mumbled Spike.

“Now get out of here.”

Spike didn’t need telling twice. He got up from his chair and walked to the door, glancing at Rupert who glared at him and turned away. Spike followed him out to the car. Nothing was said on the journey home and when they got in Spike started to walk to his room.

“Not so fast,” said Rupert in a voice that brooked no argument.

Spike stopped and turned to face him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough, Spike,” said Rupert. He pointed to a chair at the dining table, “Sit down, we need to have a talk.”

Reluctantly Spike walked over and sat down, with Rupert sitting down opposite him.

“So what’s going on?” asked Rupert.

“Nothin’” muttered Spike.

“Nothing!” exclaimed Rupert, “I get a phone call telling me to go to the station. When I get there I’m informed that you’ve been stealing alcohol and were swigging it in the street no less and all you say is nothing?”

“Um.”

“Come on, talk to me, Spike. How can I help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Spike repeated, meeting Rupert’s eyes, “Everything’s wrong.”

Rupert felt a wave of sympathy wash over him as he looked at Spike, who looked very young and lost as he sat here in front of him, but he quashed it. Spike had had plenty of sympathy and now he needed a bit of straight talking.

“I’m going to ask you some questions and I want honest answers, Spike. Don’t mess me about, okay?”

Spike nodded.

“Did you steal the vodka?”

“No.” said Spike, “Well, I did but I didn’t know I did.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

Spike told him how he’d given Angel the money to buy it and how Angel had handed him the bottles before he walked out.

Rupert thought about it for a moment and believed him.

“So how much are you drinking if it’s got your friend so worried he’ll report you to the police?”

“He didn’t do it ‘cause of my drinkin’, he did it to get me in trouble,” said Spike.

“Why would he do that? He’s your friend, isn’t he? You’ve been spending enough time with him.”

Spike hesitated before he answered.

“I think he’s been playin’ me all along, it’s wot he does. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for it. He bullied… er…William… all the time but I think he wanted a bit more fun with me.”

“That sounds a little far fetched to me,” said Rupert.

“But it’s not,” protested Spike, “Look, I had a bit of a row with him on my first day, he went to ‘ave a go at me and I stood up to ‘im. For the rest of the week no one spoke to me, Rupert, not one person. I went to the Bronze and Angel and Davey came up to me and I was just glad to ‘ave some mates, yer know? Should’ve seen through it.”

“But you’ve been drinking?” asked Rupert.

“Yeah I ‘ave.” replied Spike, not meeting his eyes.

“How long?”

“Er...since that first night at the Bronze.”

“How much?”

“Um, quite a bit,” admitted Spike.

“So is it just when you go to The Bronze?”

“No.” said Spike quietly. Rupert waited for him to continue, “It’s everyday.”

“Is there any liquor in this apartment?”

“No, that’s why I was buying the vodka tonight so I could share some with Angel and Davey and bring the rest ‘ome.”

“So you’ve been drinking here, under my nose and I haven’t noticed? said Rupert, “Great job I’m doing.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Spike.

“I know it’s not my bloody fault!” shouted Rupert, “But I should have noticed it.”

Spike flinched as Rupert shouted at him.

“How about at school? Have you been drinking at school?” before Spike could speak Rupert continued, “Good Lord, that’s why you started taking your own lunch in, so you could put some of your alcohol in, isn’t it?”

Spike nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “I was stupid, I just wanted a friend, I just followed his lead which I shouldn’t ‘ave. But it was nice you know, the vodka, the way it made me feel. It was easier to forget what ‘ad ‘appened, it didn’t ‘urt so much.” Tears started to fall, “I miss Mum…all of them…so much, all of the time. I don’t think I can take it.”

Rupert went round to Spike, who clung to him until his sobs subsided.

Later as they were eating dinner Rupert started to talk.

“You know you’re grounded, right?” he said.

“Yeah, forever I reckon,” replied Spike, not caring. He didn’t want to go anywhere anymore.

“You’re to spend lunchtime with me in the library.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to arrange for you to see the guidance counsellor once per week.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t seen able to confide in me so perhaps talking to a professional counsellor will help you.”

“But….”

“No buts, Spike. It’s not up for debate. You will see the counsellor.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll travel to and from school with me.”

Spike opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it and closed it again without saying anything, nodding instead.

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