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| In Long Beach County jail a boy, about 17, dressed in a navy blue jump suit is led by a guard through a hallway into a room. Seated at a table is a man wearing a suit, he looks to be in his late 30s to 40s, with dark hair and bushy eyebrows. He's shuffling through the papers and files spread all over the table. Looking up, he sees Justin and stands up. The guard takes the handcuffs off Justin. Sounding friendly but professional, �Justin. I'm Sandy Cohen. The court's appointed me your public defender.� Sandy says. He always seems to have an air of controlled enthusiasm and sincerity about him. Justin looks at him, he�s not impressed, and sits down. Sandy he takes his seat again, �You could do worse." He says and smiles. "You okay? They treating you alright?� �Where's my brother?� Justin says, avoiding eye contact . �Ah ...� Sandy looks at the files in his hands, �Trey is over 18, Trey stole a car, Trey had a gun in his pants and an ounce of pot in his jacket and a couple of priors. I'm guessing that right now Trey is looking at 3 to 5 years. But Trey's not my concern. This is your first time in lockup. I would assume you don't plan on coming back. Your grades are ... not great, suspended twice for fighting, truancy three times ...� He pauses and looks up in surprise at Justin who is still avoiding looking at him. �Your test scores ... 98th percentile on your SAT ones. Justin� 98th percentile?� He smiles. �If you start going to class ... are you thinking about going to college?� Justin snorts, still not looking at Sandy. �Have you given any thought at all to your future?� Sandy frowns when he gets no reaction out of him. �Dude, I'm on your side. Come on, help me out here-� Justin interrupts him, �Modern medicine is advancing to the point where the average human life span will be one hundred. But I read this article that said social security's supposed to run out by the year two-thousand and twenty-five, which means people are going to have to stay at their jobs until they're ...� He looks off, calculating the number in his head, �eighty." He pauses and looks at Sandy witht he same blank expression. "So I don't want to commit to anything too soon.� Sandy laughs lightly, �Look, I can plea this down to a misdemeanor.� This finally gets Justin�s attention. �Petty fine, probation. But know this: stealing a car �cause your big brother told you to - its stupid, and its weak. Now those are two things you can't afford to be anymore.� �Two more things.� �You wanna change that?� Justin's avoiding eye contact again. �Then you have to get over the fact that life dealt you a bad hand. I get it. We're cut from the same deck, Justin. I grew up no money, bad part of the Bronx, my father was gone, my mother worked all the time. I was pissed off, I was stupid.� Justin wants to roll his eyes. How can this rich-ass lawyer in 200 dollar shoes even try to compare his life to mine? �And look at you now.� He regrets his words and gives Sandy a quick half grin. Sandy remains serious. �Smart kid like you. You gotta have a plan. Some kind of a dream?� Justin looks Sandy in the eyes. �Yeah, right. Let me tell you something, okay? Where I'm from having a dream doesn't make you smart. Knowing it won't come true, that does.� � Outside the jail it�s sunny, Justin and Sandy stand on the sidewalk. Justin is now wearing his own clothes, blue jeans and a grey hoodie with a black collard jacket over. �My office will contact you to remind you the date for your hearing.� �I'll remember.� An old beat up car squeals around the corner, drives up on the sidewalk a bit, then comes to a stop in front of them. A woman gets out with frizzy blond hair. She's dressed pretty messy, her shirt hanging off her shoulder, an oversized, stained sweater half hanging over her. She starts yelling. �Unbelievable! What kinda family I got, huh? What the HELL did I do to deserve this family? You want to tell me that?� �Mrs. Timberlake? I'm Sandy Cohen. I'm Justin's attorney.� �You should have left him there. Just like his Dad's doing. Just like his brother's gonna.� Justin and Sandy look at each other, Justin looking nervous, Sandy looking disappointed. �Let's go Justin.� She yells. �Now, Justin!� Lynne gets back in the car. �I'm going to give you my card. My home number, you know, if you need something, if things get to be too much, call me.� Sandy says genuinely and hands Justin his card. �Let's go!� Justin hears her scream from the car and cringes. �All right!� He takes Sandy�s card and flashes him a quick smile of thanks, or pity. Sandy�s a good guy, just clueless; trying to help, he�s wasting his time. � At the Timberlake residence, Lynne pours herself a drink as Justin stands across the room watching her. Her boyfriend, A.J., sits watching t.v. The house is sort of open concept so they're all in the same room but it's a kitchen and a living room, not a very big place. The furniture is pretty mismatched and old. �I can't do this anymore, Justin. I can't.� Lynne says, more upset than angry. �I'm sorry, Mom.� Justin pleads. �I want you out of my house.� Justin�s eyes widen. �I want you out!� �But m-mom, where am I gonna go?� �You heard your mother, man. Get your stuff and get out.� A.J. says without even looking away from the TV. Justin turns to him and glares, �Hey, this isn't your house, "MAN."� A.J. gets up. �Oh, you're a tough guy now?� �A.J. don't. Justin just get out.� Lynne intervenes. �Why don't you worry about your own kids, A.J.? Instead of free loading off my Mom?� Justin growls, getting in his face. Well that did it, A.J. punches Justin, twice. �Hey!� Lynne�s attempt to stop them is weak, she�s use to this. A.J. throws Justin into the wall and Lynne turns away, lighting a cigarette. � Justin zips up his backpack and leaves his house, letting the broken screen door slam. He gets on his bike and rides away. He finds a pay phone on a busy street. Justin dials a number, �Hey, can I crash with you tonight ... all right.� He says disappointed. Justin makes a number of other calls but it seems like its no use, no one wants an unexpected house guest for who knows how long. What the fuck am I going to do know? He slams the receiver down then hits the side of the phone several times. He pauses and runs his hands over his face then searches his pockets and pulls out a crumpled business card. Sandy Cohen. He stares at it. I might as well give it a shot, because I really don�t feel like sleeping on a park bench tonight. He makes the call. ... Justin sits on a low stone wall, looking at the graffiti on nearby buildings when an expensive black car pulls up in front of him. The tinted window is rolled down to reveal Sandy sitting behind the wheel. �Told you. You could do worse.� He says and smiles. With Justin's bike bungee corded in the trunk of the car they drive off. He watches the passing scenery noticing the slow change from the lower class looking streets to the view from along the coast. Justin looks out the window and sees teens playing on the beach, walking with surfboards as the sun sets. It looks like this is how the other half lives, relaxing at the beach, no problems, no worries. I wonder what that�s like. He looks away. It doesn�t matter because I�ll never have that, I�ll never live like this, it�s not in the cards for me. �This is a nice car. I didn't know your kind of lawyer made money.� �No, we don't.� He smiles, �But my wife does.� By this time it's dark out as they drive through the security station at the front of the gated community where Sandy lives. They pull up the driveway to an enormous and very beautiful house. I've never seen a house this large in my life, I didn't think he was this wealthy. They unbuckle and go to get out but Sandy pauses. �Um, you know, why don't you wait here for a minute? I'll be back.�Sandy automatically pulls the keys out of the ignition then remembers Justin in the car beside him and debates whether or not to take them. Justin rolls his eyes a little, �It's no fun if the key's in the car.� He says, slightly amused. This guy thinks I�m going to steal his car. Sandy puts the key back in the ignition and gets out leaving Justin in the car. Guess not. � In the kitchen of the Cohen's home Sandy and his wife, Kirsten Cohen, talk . �You brought him home? This is not a stray puppy, Sandy.� She scolds his irrational behavior. �I know that, Kirsten.� Sandy is understanding. �It was only a matter of time before you started bringing home felons.� He can tell she�s a little upset. �Ryan's in a felon.� He tries to ease her mind. �Did you not meet him in jail?� �Yes ... technically. But it wasn't for a felony, I mean it was, but it won't be when I'm done. " �You're endangering our home. Did you even think of Seth?� �It's only for the weekend, just till child services opens on Monday.� �What if this is all a scam? What if he's just using you to case the house?� �He's not a criminal mastermind. He's a kid who has no one and nowhere to go. When- when did you become so cynical? " �When did you become so self-righteous?� �Always been self-righteous. You used to find it charming.� �He sleeps in the pool house.� Kirsten says and walks away. �Where're you going?� �To put my jewellery in the vault.� She pauses, �Where do you think I'm going? Boy's going to need fresh sheets, towels and a toothbrush.� � It�s now totally dark out as Justin makes his way down to the end of the Cohen's driveway for a smoke. He takes out a cigarette. He looks over and sees a young woman at the end of the driveway of the house next door, about fifteen to twenty feet away. She's sixteen, thin and from what he could tell, beautiful. At the click of his lighter she notices him, then doesn�t recognize him. �Who are you?� Justin pauses, �Whoever you want me to be.� This amuses her, but catches her interest. She can already tell there�s something different about him, beside what she can see. �Okay�� Justin lights his cigarette. Wish it was a joint. The girl looks back at the house behind her before asking to bum a cigarette. Justin walks over to her and gives her a one. He takes this opportunity to scan her body, perfect. He offers his lit one to her, rather than his lighter. She leans in close, really close, and puffs her cigarette against his. His stomach does this weird floppy thing when he gets a better look at her. Beautiful, the kind of beautiful you only see on TV or in your dreams. She smiles at him and he backs away to where he was standing before. �So, what are you doing here, seriously?� She asks curiously, looking into his eyes. �Seriously?� He takes a drag from his cigarette and starts walking back to her. He�s about to make up some lie when he looks in her eyes and has a sudden urge to be honest with her, just to see what happens. �I stole a car. Crashed it. Actually my brother did. Since he had a gun and drugs on him he's in jail. I got out and my Mom threw me out. She was pissed off and drunk. So Mr. Cohen took me in.� She stares at hard him for a moment. This guy�s messing with me. �You're their cousin from Boston, right?� I heard my dad saying something about him. �Right.� It doesn�t matter. Sandy walks up behind Justin. She drops her cigarette and steps on it quickly. �Hi, Britney.� Sandy smiles, ignoring the tobacco smell lofting about. Britney, Justin repeats in his head so he�ll remember the name to the face he�ll never forget. �Hey, Mr. Cohen. I was just meeting your nephew.� Sandy looks confused for a moment then catches on, �Oh. My favorite nephew, Justin.� He says and claps Justin on the back. �All the way from Seattle.� �Seattle?� He said Boston. �Dad lives there. Mom lives in Boston.� Justin quickly covers up. �Hmm.� She smiles. �So we're all really excited about your fashion show fund-raiser tomorrow night.� Sandy says. �Really? You are.� There�s a playful glint of doubt in her voice. Taking a deep breath, Sandy runs a hand through his hair, �No.� He admits. Britney laughs obviously not surprised or upset by his honesty. A oversized, black, pick-up truck pulls up. The driver, a young athletic looking guy, calls out the window. �Come on, let's go.� Britney turns to Justin, �Hey, you should come by, check it out. If you don't have other plans.� She says as she heads for the truck. �See you.� She smiles and he can�t help but do the same. �Good night.� Sandy calls. Justin watches as Britney climbs up into the truck and kisses the driver. His heart sinks. Not that I would have had a chance with her anyways, besides it couldn�t have worked. Justin brushes off the idea all together. The driver glares at Justin, �Who's that kid?� he asks Britney. They drive off. �Let's go inside.� Sandy says and they start walking up the drive, �Uh, there's no smoking in this house.� Justin drops his cigarette and continues up the driveway. Sandy quickly runs back and stamps it out. ... Justin and Sandy go into the pool house where two women stand. One is an older Hispanic looking woman in a maids outfit. The other is an attractive, younger woman, thin with blond hair. It must be Sandy�s wife. The pool house looks more like a loft than a storage area. It's furnished and has light wood floors and the walls are all floor length windows. It's big and very nice. �So this is where you're going to be staying. And this is the Queen of the manor herself, my wife, Kirsten.� �Hello Justin, welcome to our home. If you need anything Rosie here can help you.� She sounds polite but formal, like forced friendliness. �Thank you, thanks very much.� �We'll see you in the morning. Make yourself comfortable.� Sandy says as he and the ladies leave Justin alone in the pool house. |