Kyrah's POV

By the time I wake up, I find Scott is not in bed with me. Where could he be? I sluggishly push away the comforter and yawn for a second or two.

Maybe he's doing his morning workouts like he always does. I choose to assume.

Blindly I stretch my hand to the nighstand, looking for my phone and then I remember I don't have it. I had been so used to waking up and checking my phone that right now I feel so weird without it. I groan and slump my body back on the bed.

Maybe I should take a shower before Scott comes back, it's almost 8am anyway. So I take a shower, pull my hair into a messy wet bun and wear a pair of grey trousers and a grey sweatshirt. For some reason I don't know, grey has always made me feel neutral, calm to be precise. Moments later, I walk into the kitchen and I notice a blue sticky note on the fridge and I take it and read it. Scott's handwriting is all over it.

*Hey, I had to leave early to go to the airport to pick up my dad. I already fed Snow, there's cereal and milk for you. Check the fridge I got you something. Take care.

S.S*

Immediately I open the fridge and find a large tin of blueberry ice-cream, a vanilla flavored piece of cake and three large bars of dark chocolate. My eyes become teary. I honestly needed some sugar to drown my sorrows in. What time did he even wake up? Because I swear I never heard him leave. Plus I'm pretty sure there wasn't any cereal around. So I check the cabinets and find a box of cereal, it's already opened, meaning it's probably cereal from his house. He's such a darling. I smile despite myself.

I get a bowl and spoon and make breakfast for myself. Snow joins me on the couch and it hits me that this house feels so empty. I miss mom and dad.

"What should we watch, Snow?" I ask him and he wags his tail as I flip the channels and land on some cartoon on Nickelodeon. He barks when SpongeBob appears on TV.

"You like SpongeBob, huh? Me too," I say as I continue having my cereal. After an hour or so of watching cartoon and trying to destract myself and my thoughts, I've already eaten one bar of chocolate and a quarter of the ice-cream is already settling down in my tummy. I'll have the cake later.

Just as I'm about to pick Snow up to give him a bath, because I really need some kind of distraction, I hear a phone ring. I frown for a few seconds wondering where that annoying sound is coming from and then I remember, we usually have a house phone, the old type of phone which you can't tell if you have any missed calls. A landline telephone. People rarely call it unless it's a prank or a wrong number. I wonder who that could be. So I rush to it and answer.

With the old phone pressed against my ear, I wait to hear a voice.

"Hello?... Vic are you sure they never threw out that phone?" alas! A familiar voice.

"Roxy?" I ask.

"Babe! Oh thank God, I had called earlier but you didn't pick up," she says.

"I was probably asleep when you called. Plus I didn't expect anyone to call this phone. What's up? Are you guys already moving into the new house?" I enquire.

"Uhm... no..." she says.

"What do you mean 'no'? I thought you were supposed to do that today." I frown as I sit back on the couch

"We got into a little trouble last night so we couldn't make it to Wolf Street and–" I cut her off.

"Roxy, what happened? Where are you?" I begin creating the worst scenarios in my head as my heart begins thumping fast and loudly against my chest. Silence follows.

"Roxy? Are you there?" I ask.

"Yeah, Vic and I are at the... station. Not radio station or railway station, the..."

"Police station?! Both of you got arrested? Oh my God! Roxy, which station exactly?" What were those two upto last night when they left?

"Err... Springfield," she says.

"Alright, I'm on my way there," I say and hang up. "Oh my God, what do I do, what do I do now?" I shout as I run upstairs and grab my purse. My best friend and her brother, just got arrested and I am panicking! I rush back downstairs and out the door. When I spot my car– no, the car that that idiot got me, parked right outside my house, I scowl at it.

"There's no fucking way I'm driving that thing," I whisper to myself and call an uber. As I wait for the uber to arrive, I curse myself for not having my own car, one that I got for myself or my parents got for me. It's been close to ten minutes and just as I am about to cancel the uber request, it arrives and off we go.

At the police station, as I walk in, different officers are busy with their work, some on computers, some walking from here to there with large files, some having a tete-a-tete while sipping coffee near a large desk.

"Excuse me, miss, how may I help you?" a female officer asks. My eyes run from the top of her head, down to her well polished shoes, taking note of the well ironed blue shirt and black pair of trousers and a shiny badge.

"Yes, I'm looking for Roxy and Victor Trent. They err... got arrested last night?" my words come out more of a question than a statement because I find it so hard to believe those two got arrested. What if Roxy's messing around with me and they're probably not here?

"And you are?" she asks nonchalantly.

"Kyrah Bailey, a friend of theirs," I respond.

"Follow me," she says and with a tired expression on her face, she turns around and begins walking, at the same time she fishes out a set of keys from her pocket.

Quietly, I follow her past a couple of occupied cells and I spot Roxy seated on a small bench inside a cell that has large steel bars as a door.

My heart drops to my stomach.

"Roxy!" I say and she turns to look at me. "Where's Vic?" I ask.

"He's in another cell," she responds as she stands up.

"Are you okay? What did both of you do last night?" I ask but instead she tiptoes and tries to look over my shoulder.

"Isn't Scott with you?" she asks and I roll my eyes at her and fold my arms across my chest.

"Way to change the subject, Roxy. What did you do? For how long are you supposed to stay here?"

"It's a really long story and... they said that they'll accept bail after a week–"