Chapter 108: ELLIOT

ELLIOT'S POV

The courthouse smelled like old paper and floor wax.

I sat in the hallway outside Courtroom 4B with Vivian on my left and my parents behind me, my Dad's hand warm and heavy on my shoulder. Mom hadn't said much since she picked me up from the airport. She'd just looked at me for a long moment, the way she did when she was trying to figure out if I was okay, and then she'd hugged me hard enough that I had to breathe around it.

My head still throbbed from last night. Vivian had taken one look at me when I arrived and pressed a bottle of water and two Tylenol into my hands without comment.

I'd taken them both and said nothing.

This is what you get, I thought, staring down at my shoes. This is what you get for getting drunk on a beach the night before your compliance hearing.

Still, if someone told me I could go back and not do it, I wasn't sure I would.

"Elliot." Vivian's voice was low and measured. "When we go in, I need you to look at Judge Mason directly when she addresses you. I don’t want you to think about anyone else who might be in attendance, just focus on answering all her questions as honestly as you can. ."

"Yeah." I nodded. "Okay."

"And when she asks if you understand the terms, you say yes, Your Honor.” She continued, voice curt. “Aside from that, I don’t want you to speak unless you are directly spoken to. Do you understand?”

"Yes." I responded, flat.

"Good." She clicked her pen once and returned to her notes.

Behind me, Dad leaned forward. "You're gonna be fine, bug." He said it quietly, just for me. "Whatever happens in there, you're gonna be fine."

I swallowed hard and said nothing. The tie around my neck suddenly felt tighter, and I couldn’t stop bouncing my feet against the tile, counting the seconds until we were finally called in.

The courtroom was as I remembered it; the wood paneling, fluorescent light, and a ceiling fan that turned slowly and did nothing for the temperature. Judge Mason was already seated when we filed in.

She was a woman in her sixties with steel grey hair and reading glasses perched at the end of her nose. She didn't look up from the papers in front of her as we settled around her.

I took my seat next to Vivian and tried not to think about how loud my heartbeat was. My parents were in the pews somewhere behind us, and I caught a glimpse of Isabelle Fraiser, pale and severe, dressed in black from head to toe like a woman in mourning. Robby was surprisingly nowhere to be found.

The prosecutor was a young guy in a navy suit who looked like he'd rather be somewhere else. He stood when Judge Mason nodded to him and began reading from his notes in a flat voice.

"Your Honor, despite the court’s and your generosity towards this case, the defendant has missed a significant portion of his court-mandated anger management sessions. In thirteen months, against a requirement of four hours weekly, he has averaged approximately eight hours per month. Furthermore, his school disciplinary record indicates that he was placed in a mandatory team conflict resolution program following aggressive altercations with a fellow athlete that resulted in physical violence."

He paused, letting that land.

"The prosecution would argue that this pattern of non-compliance, combined with the ongoing conduct issues, suggests that the defendant has not demonstrated the behavioral change this sentence was designed to achieve, and that the court's leniency has been taken as a suggestion rather than a mandate."

I stared at the table in front of me, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts. Vivian's hand pressed briefly to my forearm. ‘Look at the judge’, she'd said.

And so I made myself look up, and found Judge Mason watching me over her reading glasses with an expression I couldn't read. I swallowed hard, and forced myself to keep a composure I didn’t feel.

Distantly, I wondered if Weston was up yet as Vivian took the stand.

“Your honor,” she started, “while my client’s attendance has been imperfect due to the significant personal and academic pressures of Division I college athletics, Elliot demonstrates genuine remorse and measurable growth during the sessions he does attend. His capacity for self-reflection has increased considerably. He is not the same young man who entered this process. I implore you to take into consideration the note submitted by his therapy provider, and his significant decline in personal and team based aggression. My client is not the same boy you delivered judgement to all those months ago.”

She took her seat and Judge Mason made a note, then she looked up. "Is Robert Frasier present?"

A door opened at the back of the room and my heart stuttered to a stop. I refused to turn, listening instead to the slight irregular rhythm of his footsteps as I stared at the wood grain of the table in front of me and screwed my eyes shut.

Robby spoke, and my stomach rolled with nausea. "Yes, Your Honor."

"Mr. Fraiser, you have submitted a statement to this court. You don't wish to amend it?"

A pause. "No, Your Honor. My statement stands."

I didn't know what the statement said. Vivian had told me there was one and had declined to read it to me before the hearing, saying it would only make me more anxious. She’d been right,  but the curiosity made the sick all the same.

"Very well." Judge Mason made another note. "Mr. Cross?”

I looked up.

She held my gaze for a long moment before she spoke. "I want to be very clear with you about what I'm seeing. I'm seeing a young man with genuine potential who has repeatedly treated this court's requirements as optional. This is a pattern that concerns me."

I said nothing. My hands were fists on my thighs.

"But, I’m also seeing your therapist’s letter. And I'm seeing a disciplinary record that, while not clean, shows a significant reduction in serious incidents." She removed her glasses. "So I'm not going to throw you in a cell today, Mr. Cross. But I want you to understand that you are standing on a very precarious edge, and I might not be so generous at the next compliance hearing."

"Yes, Your Honor." My voice came out steadier than I felt.

"I'm issuing a continuance of six months with strict compliance conditions. You will attend every scheduled session without exception. One unexcused absence will trigger an automatic warrant for your arrest. There will be no second chances, or extensions, and I will entertain no exemptions for hockey practice schedules or otherwise." She looked at me over her glasses. "Do you understand me?"

I nodded, "Yes, Your Honor."

"Good." She made a final note. "You're skating on very thin ice, Mr. Cross. I'd strongly suggest you stay on it."

The gavel came down and I flinched hard.