Blaine had everything planned out. They’d done it twice before without getting caught. Just distract the store-owner long enough so David could get the chip into the ATM. The same method they’d used in the other two stores.

What Blaine forgot however, was that Law Enforcement relied heavily on criminals repeating their actions. What Blaine forgot to do, was scope out the stores for camera’s.

When Blaine found himself in front of a judge, a prosecutor and both of his parents, he knew he was screwed in the worst possible way.

“So, we have two choices. Well, three really.” The prosecutor said. “The first is, you plead not-guilty and we go to trial. The video evidence, as well as the evidence from both yours and David’s computers would be viewed by the jury, and they’d decide whether to let you walk, or to convict you. The second is, you plead guilty and you go to Juvenile Hall for 5 years.”

Blaine was shaking his head in disagreement. “I’m not doing either of those!” He said roughly, and was awarded a smack from his mother.

The prosecutor smile was practically a sneer. “The third option,” She paused. “Is only open due to your parent’s stature and their bank accounts. So feel lucky.”

“Okay, what the hell is it?”

“You enrol immediately at Dalton Academy Reform School for Boys; where you will finish your high school career and ultimately graduate.”

Blaine groaned. While the school itself was pretty easy going (from what he’d heard,) the teachers and rules were ridiculous. He brought a hand to his face, sighing. “Guess I’m going to Dalton.”

——

Kurt: Prostitution

Kurt pulled off his business very well. Nobody taking a second glance would assume that he, Kurt Hummel, was a pimp. A pimp with a very sought after group of young men.

They all kept it discreet. They never had a specific meeting place. All conversations were made through disposable cell-phones. Kurt was young, but he was far from stupid.

The boys who worked for him were not allowed to live in Lima. They had to travel, so as not to be recognized. They were not allowed to visit the same hotel more than 3 times a month. And of course, above all things, all exchanges were cash only. Kurt only brought on boys he felt he could trust. It worked out very well for him.

Until one of the men that came calling for some sex, turned out to be an under-cover police officer. Of course, the prostitute squealed like a stuffed pig.

And that’s how they had ended up here. The prosecutor, a police officer and Burt.

“Kurt, I just don’t understand how you could be running a prostitution ring in Lima. Actually, anywhere. What were you thinking?” Burt said with disappointment in his voice.

Kurt shook his head, not wanting to speak. This was so not how it was supposed to go.

He watched as the prosecutor sat down beside him. “Listen Kurt, I know that aside from this, you’re a pretty good kid. Clean record, high grades, in Glee club. You’re practically an angel.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows. “Did you forget I just got caught running a ring of hormone driven teenage boys getting paid to have sex? Hardly an angel.” He replied bitterly.

“That’s my point. Because you haven’t really been that much trouble to anyone prior to this, I managed to talk my way into offering you something special.”

“Alright then, out with it.”

The prosecutor smiled warmly, while Kurt tried to figure out why she was being so nice to him. “The government has agreed to pay you’re way to Dalton Academy.”

Kurt was confused. “What on earth is Dalton Academy?”

Burt spoke this time. “A very high class Reform school. Remember how you said being at school feels like jail sometimes? Well, that’s the definition of Dalton. Change sometimes to always.”

Kurt eyed the prosecutor for a moment. “Sounds better than jail.”

—-

Jeff/Nick: Grand Theft Auto

Both Jeff and Nick were good at their jobs. The goal was simple: Get the car, take it apart. They were best friends, so they worked great as a team. When they were told to nab their 5th car, they took a risk.

They’d decided to steal a Camaro. They had researched it thoroughly, and the night of the steal; they were ready to go.

Getting the car was no problem. In their excitement, they had missed one of the biggest details. They’d forgotten to dismantle the GPS.

So here they were, in a Judge’s chamber with all 4 parents. Luckily for them, their parents had connections, and they were able to jump right over the prosecutor.

“Grand Theft Auto? What were you boys even thinking? You’re 16 for crying out loud! “Nick’s Dad said angrily. “Judge Lisa is there anything at all you can do for them. Keep in mind price is no object.”

Lisa took the glasses off her face, shaking her head at the two boys. “You know if I let this go to trial, you could spend 10 years in jail right? You’re both 16, you can be tried as adults.”

“Judge, please. Don’t send us to jail. We won’t do it again, right Jeff?” Nick looked desperately at his best friend, relieved when he saw that Jeff was nodding along with him.

“Unfortunately I can’t just let you go. There is something else however, that might work.” Lisa said quietly.

“What would that be?” Jeff’s mom finally came out of her silence.

Lisa stood up and looked at her window. “Dalton Academy Reform School for Boys. It allows the more serious cases, that aren’t murder or assault, to be locked up; however still give teenage boys the ability to get their education and socialize.”

Nick was squirming uncomfortably. “Don’t they beat you?” He said quietly.

“False. Dalton is actually very reserved. People who misbehave are removed at once, and sent to Juvenile Hall.” Lisa said with a nod of her head. “It’s expensive, though.”

Both sets of parents already had out their cheque books. “We’ll give you a blank cheque. Just tell us when and where to show up to send them off.”

Jeff and Nick looked at each other, not sure whether to be relieved or scared. It didn’t matter, they weren’t going to jail; and they weren’t going to be separated.

——

Beat: Possession with Intent to Distribute

Just something to do on the side. That’s all it was. Beat only sold small amounts of marijuana to his friends, and occasionally a family member. It earned him a bit of extra cash, and allowed him to lead his life a little more, extravagant than the average 17 year old.

Until that fateful phone call came in. One of his friends wanted to buy a whole pound. Beat had instantly said no. He was in no way willing to risk going to prison. And then his friend uttered the magical words: Money, and lots of it.

Beat had no idea he had been set up until the sirens were coming from around him. His friend had merely shrugged an apology and mouthed, “I had to save my ass. Sorry man.”

He had sat in the cell all night. Beat’s parents were out of town, so the police had spent the evening and early morning trying to get in touch with them.

When Beat heard the jangle of keys outside his cell, he quickly sprung awake. “You’re free to go.” The Police Officer said, moving out of the way.

“Wait… what?” He was confused. Wasn’t he supposed to be going to jail?

“We got in touch with your parents. They suggested we send you to Dalton Academy Reform School for Boys. You start Monday. On your way out, the guy at the front will give you further instructions.” The man spoke lightly, as if he didn’t approve of the situation.

Beat was still hesitating. “So… that’s it?”

The man nodded. “That’s it.”

As Beat left the cell and began to walk towards the front, he couldn’t help the smile that left his face. At least he wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life in prison.