Chapter 34: Bargaining With Futures “He’s right, Jim. We’re going to get through this, together,” Rich repeated, his hand still a comforting weight on my shoulder. My dad’s words echoed in my head. “Do you know how many people would kill for that opportunity?” He wasn’t wrong, and I knew it. As Ms. Hanover and my Dad followed us out, she seemed to be in some sort of trance. I asked, “Ms. Hanover, you alright?” She blinked, seemingly snapping out of it. “I’m fine, Jim. Just… thinking.” She didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t push. Ms. Hanover always had a lot on her mind. “Just remember what we talked about. Cooperate with Ms. Klein. She’s the best.” We piled into Rich’s car, the silence heavy. The city whizzed by, a blur of lights and noise, none of it penetrating the bubble of dread surrounding me. I stared out the window, trying to process everything that had happened, the conversation that was about to come. My dad was in the passenger seat, turned back towards me, but silent. Probably giving me time to think. I didn’t want to think. When we arrived at my house, my mom rushed to embrace me. "Mijo," she whispered, her voice thick with worry. She peppered my face with kisses, a familiar comfort in the midst of chaos. "What were you thinking?" I shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. "I wasn't," I admitted. We all sat in the living room, Rich, Ms. Klein, Lenny, and Roxanne. Even Greg, Keithie and Becky were present. The air was thick with unspoken anxieties. Ms. Klein started, her voice calm and professional. “Jim, let’s be frank. Your situation is… precarious. The assault charge, the fire alarm incident, the community service violation, they all paint a very unfavorable picture.” Rich nodded grimly. “The media’s having a field day. They’re calling you a menace, a thug, a waste of talent.” “That’s bullshit,” Greg interjected, but Roxanne silenced him with a look. Ms. Klein continued, unfazed. “We have two options, realistically. We can fight this, try to prove your innocence or mitigate the charges. But that’s a long shot. The evidence is stacked against you, and your past record isn’t helping.” “And the other option?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “A plea bargain. We negotiate with the district attorney, plead guilty to a lesser charge, and hopefully avoid jail time. It’ll involve community service, fines, and a criminal record.” A criminal record. The words hung in the air like a death knell. “What about Duke?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Ms. Klein sighed. “That’s the problem, Jim. A criminal record will almost certainly jeopardize your scholarship. Duke has a reputation to uphold. They can’t afford to be associated with someone like you.” “Someone like me?” I repeated, my voice rising. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Jim,” Lenny interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “Don’t get defensive. Ms. Klein is just being realistic.” Rich added, “NBA scouts will be wary, too. Teams don’t want to invest in a player with a history of violence and legal trouble.” My dreams, the carefully constructed future I had envisioned, were crumbling before my eyes. Duke, the NBA, all of it slipping away because of my own stupidity. Keithie looked at me, clearly concerned and confused. I was his older brother, and he probably looked up to me. What kind of example was I setting? Becky just looked scared. I looked at my mom, her face a mask of worry, her usual fire subdued. And then I looked at my dad, his eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and a stubborn refusal to give up on me. That was Lenny. Always supportive, even when I didn’t deserve it. Lenny cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Jim,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going to lie to you. You messed up, big time. You let your anger get the best of you, and now you’re paying the price.” “Thanks, Dad. Real helpful,” I muttered sarcastically. Lenny ignored my sarcasm. “But that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. You’re young, Jim. You have your whole life ahead of you. You can learn from this, you can grow, you can become a better person.” “How?” I asked, my voice laced with despair. “How can I become a better person when I’ve ruined everything?” “By taking responsibility,” Lenny said, his gaze unwavering. “By facing the consequences of your actions. By showing the world that you’re not the monster they think you are.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The plea bargain… it might not be the ideal solution, but it’s the right one. It’s a chance to make amends, to prove that you’re willing to change.” “But Duke…” I protested, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. “Duke will always be there, Jim. If you’re good enough, if you work hard enough, you’ll get another chance. But right now, you need to focus on the present. You need to clean up this mess.” I looked at Rich and Ms. Klein. They both nodded in agreement. Even Greg looked concerned. Ms. Klein added, “There’s also Marco to consider, Jim. If you fight this and lose, the publicity could bring more attention to his situation, put him and his family at risk.” Marco. I had almost forgotten about him in the midst of my own turmoil. He was just a kid, caught in the crossfire of my stupidity. I had a responsibility to protect him. I closed my eyes, the weight of the decision crushing me. My dreams, my future, or Marco and my family. There wasn’t really a choice. “Okay,” I said, my voice barely audible. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the plea bargain.” Relief washed over my parents’ faces. Ms. Klein nodded, a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. Rich let out a long breath. “Good,” Ms. Klein said. “I’ll contact the district attorney and start negotiating the terms. In the meantime, Jim, I need you to prepare a statement. Something sincere, something that shows remorse.” “I don’t know what to say,” I admitted. “I’ll help you,” Lenny offered. “We’ll work on it together.” The next few hours were a blur of legal jargon, emotional discussions, and the painful process of crafting an apology. Ms. Klein outlined the terms of the plea bargain: community service, a hefty fine, mandatory anger management sessions with Dr. Klein, and a criminal record. The thought of spending more time with her made me cringe. Lenny and I worked on the statement, struggling to find the right words to express my remorse without sounding insincere. I wanted to apologize to Marco, to his family, to the community, to Duke, to my family. “You need to show them you understand the impact of your actions,” Lenny said, pacing the room. “You need to show them you’re truly sorry.” “I am sorry,” I said, my voice laced with frustration. “I just don’t know how to say it.” “Start with the truth,” Lenny said. “Tell them what you were thinking, what you were feeling. Tell them why you did what you did.” I hesitated, reluctant to reveal the raw anger and pain that had fueled my actions. But Lenny was right. I had to be honest, even if it was painful. Finally, after hours of revisions, we had a statement. It wasn’t perfect, but it was sincere. It acknowledged my mistakes, expressed my remorse, and promised to do better. The next day was a whirlwind of activity. Ms. Klein finalized the plea bargain with the district attorney, and Rich arranged a press conference at a local community center. I was nervous, terrified of facing the media, of being judged and condemned. My family, Rich, and Ms. Klein accompanied me to the community center. As we walked inside, I was met with a barrage of flashing lights, microphones, and expectant faces. The room was packed with reporters, cameras, and onlookers. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Lenny squeezed my shoulder, offering a silent reassurance. Ms. Klein led me to the podium, and I stood before the crowd, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter. I scanned the faces in the audience, searching for a friendly face, a sign of support. And then I saw her. Demitra was standing at the back of the room, her eyes fixed on me. She looked concerned, but there was also something else in her gaze, a mixture of pity and… respect? Her presence gave me a sliver of courage. I knew I had disappointed her, that I had jeopardized any chance of a relationship between us. But she was still there, watching, supporting me from afar. I took another deep breath and began to read the statement, my voice shaking at first but growing stronger as I continued. “I want to start by apologizing to everyone who has been affected by my actions,” I said, my gaze sweeping across the room. “To Marco and his family, I am deeply sorry for the pain and suffering I have caused. To the community, I apologize for the disruption and violence I brought to your streets. To Duke University, I am sorry for tarnishing your reputation and jeopardizing my scholarship.” “And to my family,” I continued, my voice cracking with emotion, “I am sorry for letting you down. You have always supported me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I promise to make you proud.” I paused, taking another deep breath. “I know that words are not enough. I know that I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust. But I am committed to changing, to becoming a better person. I will attend anger management sessions, I will perform my community service, and I will do everything in my power to make amends for my mistakes.” “I know that I may have lost my chance to play basketball at Duke, and maybe even in the NBA, but I refuse to let this define me. I will use this experience as a learning opportunity, a chance to grow and become a more responsible and compassionate individual.” I finished the statement, my voice hoarse. Silence hung in the air for a moment, and then the questions began. “Jim, do you regret your actions?” “Jim, do you think you deserve a second chance?” “Jim, what do you say to those who believe you’re a menace to society?” I answered the questions as honestly as I could, reiterating my remorse and commitment to change. Ms. Klein stepped in to deflect the more aggressive inquiries, protecting me from further scrutiny. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the press conference ended. I walked off the podium, feeling drained but also strangely relieved. I had faced the music, I had taken responsibility for my actions, and I had made a promise to do better. As I walked towards the exit, I caught Demitra’s eye again. She gave me a small, hesitant smile, a silent acknowledgment of my efforts. I returned the smile, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, I could salvage something from this mess. Maybe I could prove to everyone, including myself, that I was capable of change. But as I walked out of the community center and into the waiting car, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. That the road ahead would be long and difficult, filled with obstacles and challenges. And that my future, my dreams, were still hanging in the balance.