Haha, no.

The officer’s silence and long pauses are deafening. It's almost like he’s taking the opportunity to fully take in the sight of my beautiful body. And as much as I want to yell, stop staring at me you jerk, I can’t. The only way I’m getting out of this is if he takes pity on me. He’s looking at me and I have to pretend like it’s okay.

“That doesn’t explain why you were driving at 100 miles an hour. Going for a joy ride tonight? Does this car even belong to you?” the officer asks.

Oh God. He thinks I stole the car? No, no, no, this is not happening.

Josh interrupts him, “No, it’s my dad’s car. She didn’t steal it.”

Josh hands him the registration and his license. Thank you, Josh. It’s the least you can do, considering you’re the reason I don’t have a license.

The officer looks over the papers and I stare at his badge. Please, I think, please, please, please let us go. I pray. Dear God, if you let me out of this, I promise I’ll never be mean to anyone ever again. I swear. Liar, I think to myself. Shut up, brain. I’m trying to pray here.

“Can you step out of the car, please?” the officer asks.