Derrick wished he hadn't been so smug now. It was Thanksgiving with strangers. More or less. And he had to be on his best behavior. There was such little time to talk to Rossie. Sure he was upset finding out this way about the baby, but he coudn't lose his cool. So he was quiet. Listless, perhaps.
"Well, aren't you happy?" asked someone from his Anger management group.
"I guess." He was still trying to get used to the fact about Rossie being pregnant. "I just wish she would have told me."
"She didn't have to tell you anything, Derrick." The counselor piped in as if he might be testy.
"I know." He felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut somehow. He remembered how they said they were going light on his sentence. He needed to remember to be thankful he was in juvie. He was in a group home. He'd be out by January. "There..there are lot of people..who..who want to help me." He did have to remember, as he pressed his lips tight. "I just..I just feel..I need another chance..with Rossie." He could feel it now. She must hate him. He didn't mean to put her off. His humor wasn't all that funny. He'd kidded her about being fat. "I need a do over." Simple as that, but he didn't see that happening. He would mess it up. He had a knack for messing things up.
"What you, need to be thinking Derrick is..how..how are you going to support a child?" His counselor asked.
"I dunno." A part of him knew Rossie was better off without him. She knew that, but he swelled with tears anyway. As he blinked tears, he thought of Daisy's Dad and his new place. He felt like begging for a job. He'd be a dishwasher, at this rate. He didn't care. He was pretty sure Rossie wouldn't take his calls. Ever couple of weeks he got the privilege to call someone. He never did. He never got letters. He did what he was told.
Of course, there was the matter of Mitch. Which he still avoided. He knew he needed to write a letter of apology, but he didn't know what to write. It would probably mean nothing to Mitch. Still he felt nothing when he thought about Mitch and that night when he hurt him. He didn't want to believe he was capable of such pain.
Yeah, he sort of remembered his fist hurting and bleeding. But he figured he smashed it in a wall somewhere, not Mitch's face.
Mitch wasn't even there for his sentencing. At least that was done and the time he'd spent in jail already went toward his sentence.
He knew he was lucky to be here. But even if he did get out of here by January, he would be wearing an ankle bracelet for a good long time. They'd be watching him.
Derrick knew his only hope would be Daisy's dad. Derrick was definitely at the bottom of the barrel.