I stared at my phone, waiting for Cecilia to text me back. The little thought bubble was there for a while. Eventually, I got a text back. It was rather long. 

Cecilia: HOLY CRAP WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO!? OH MY GOD. WE'RE GOING TO DIE. WE'RE GOING TO SHOW UP IN COURT. THIS IS GOING TO GO ON NATIONAL TELEVISION. WHAT IF I FLIP OUT!? WHAT IF I TACKLE THE DUDE THAT SHOT US OH MY GOD THIS IS TERRIBLE. WHAT THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO TELL THEM!? WE'RE JUST KIDS. WE DON'T EVEN HAVE LAWYERS. OH MY GOD. ISAAC WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO!? WHEN EVEN IS THIS THING!?

As weird as it seems, I started to laugh. The situation completely sucked, and I was sitting here laughing at a long-winded, panicked text. Not exactly the best reaction, I guess, but after I found out about the trial, it seemed as though something inside me snapped. I didn't truly understand why we were even having this trial. 

Just like Cecilia said, we don't have lawyers, and we're just teenagers. For some reason, adults tend to think everything we say is a lie. Especially a super judgmental dude with a gavel. He'll probably kick us out right when we walk in because we're teenagers. 

In his eyes, nothing we say will be considered true. It will all be a stupid prank. 

Some adults just look at teenagers that way. We're sick twisted people to them. All we want to do is make trouble.

Well, that's not true for some of us! In fact, a good amount of us are mature...for the most part. 

Okay, so we may not be mature in the "dirty mind" category, but we can handle our schoolwork and after school activities. We can get good grades and read. We can be normal people who just want to do something to change the world. 

I texted Cecilia back, trying to be careful with what I said. Of course, my first instinct was to type "lol", because that's literally what I did, but I figured that wouldn't be the best thing to send to a girl who was panicking.

Yeah, I know.

You wish all boys were as careful and considerate as me. 

Eventually, I decided to text her this:

Cecilia, I know you're panicking, but it's going to be okay. We'll be fine. Our parents will handle some of this stuff. And we've got scars to prove that what happened was real, no matter how much the dude that shot us will deny it. They can't reject material evidence.

I must have read over the text ten times before I sent it. I didn't want to say anything wrong. I definitely didn't want to upset her anymore. When I hit the send button, I was shaking slightly.

What the hell?

I was texting a girl, not dealing with a bomb!

Right?

Girls aren't bombs, are they?