Page 32 of Courtroom Drama
?
STILL PASSED OUT IN A CLOSET
The first note Damon ever wrote me was the same format as this one. It was in Mr. Clayborn’s first-period algebra class in sixth grade, when we felt like the only two people on Earth who didn’t have phones yet. He reached across the aisle, holding a folded sheet while Mr. Clayborn scrawled equations on the board.
HOW MANY MORE TIMES WILL MR. C ADJUST HIS CROTCH BEFORE THE BELL RINGS?
?
?
6
8
?
THE LIMIT DOES NOT EXIST
Now I smile and place a checkmark in the third box, grateful for the easy out.Fair enough,he writes back, then moves his pad back to his other leg, but not before his eyes catch mine and we exchange a charged look, the shared secret of our escapade in the presidential suite last night between us. I appreciate that he doesn’t press further, though a small, bothersome part of me wants him to.
D.A. Stern’s co-prosecutor, Albert D’Agostino, dives into his questions to Meredith, and I am grateful for the distraction.
“Ms. Dixon, you’ve spent countless hours with Mrs. Kitsch over the years, filming for the showAuthentic Moms of Malibuand otherwise, is that correct?”
