Trust

Officer Raven Washington knocked on the glass with her right middle knuckle. By the time she had reached the car, the driver, a young woman in her early twenties or late teens was already sitting up straight, pretending that nothing had been happening. Although Raven had only been on the job for two years, she had seen it all. She wasn't buying it; She was born at night, not born last night.

The mechanical sound of the automatic window broke the silence of the afternoon.

"License and registration, please," she stated, firmly but congenially. Her father, a thirty-year-veteran of the ****, had told her early on that people will be looking for an excuse to hate you when you were on the job. It came with the badge. Don't give them any extra reasons. And so it was her policy to be polite whenever possible.

"Did we do something wrong, officer?" the woman asked, sliding the documents through the open window.

Raven grunted, suppressing a chuckle. These kids thought that police were so stupid. Broad daylight, erratically pulling behind a strip mall, head bopping up and down. What kind of excuse was she going to give to get out of this one?

"I think we both know what you two were doing," she said, looking at the license. The car was registered to a Vanessa Beardy, while the driver was Nancy Beardy, "Your mother's car?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girl, Nancy, used a very respectful tone, "And I know what it looked like. I was just, um..."

"It's my fault, ma'am," a male voice called from the passenger seat, "Please don't get Nancy in trouble."

"Oh!" Raven said in surprise as she bent down to look at the new speaker. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt a momentary rush of adrenaline. The driver was certainly attractive, but the passenger was a work of art. Then her eyes drifted downward to his lap and saw the sizable tent in his dress.

"Oh!" she said again, feeling flushed.

Not wanting to seem unprofessional, Raven stood up straight and backed away from the car, taking the driver's license and registration with her. She needed to cool down. Her squad car was perfect for that; she could pretend to be running the license, writing a ticket, all the while she could be giving herself some professional distance.

What was that white girl doing with a guy like that? He was no run-of-the-mill guy, at least twice as attractive as anyone she'd seen on the job. Usually, in situations like this, Raven would be pulling people over in moments that they would regret for the rest of their lives. This girl? Raven could hardly blame her.

She pulled down the visor and checked out her reflection in the mirror. Yes, he was on a date, and yes, she was on the job, but it didn't hurt to look good. Did it? Her hair was a bit of a mess, but there wasn't much she could do about that. Her boyfriend had always told her that her skin was her best feature, anyway. Blemish-free brown skin, so smooth that you'd just want to touch it, or so he had told her. She opened the glove box and pulled out some red lipstick. She had bought it on her break for after work, but there was no time like the present.

Lips painted, loins cooled, Raven stepped out of the squad car and headed back to the parked sedan. There was some movement as she approached, as if the driver's hand had been in the lap of the passenger. There was no way she would be so brazen, though, right?

"Here you go," she said as she handed the documents to the driver, who thanked her politely. Then she bent over so she could see both of them, her sternest face on, "I know what it's like to be young, and I know what it's like to be in love," her eyes locked with the passenger's eyes at that, causing her heart to flutter, "but I'd hate to have you two make a mistake that will have consequences for your futures, so I'm going to let you off with a warning. But I'm going to need a promise from both of you to be more discrete in the future. This kind of hanky-panky should happen in private, not out in public like this."

"Of course," the passenger said, "Trust us, we won't be making that mistake again."

She did trust them. Something about how he spoke with so much confidence, so much authority, dismissed any doubt in her mind. Her face lost its stern demeanor and a warm smile grew.

"Here," she pulled two business cards out of her pocket and scribbled her cell phone number on the back, "I'll give these to you because I trust you. If you need to talk about how to make good decisions, or need advice from someone just a couple years ahead of you, feel free to text or call."

They thanked her profusely, relieved to have dodged a bullet, and Raven returned to her cruiser. She'd never given out her cell phone before, her father would be horrified. Boundaries, he'd always told her, are imperative. These two were different, though. She could trust them. And besides, she was secretly hoping that the dreamboat in the passenger seat would reach out. Not that she'd do anything. She was in a committed relationship! It was fun to dream, though.

She put her car in reverse and started to turn around, leaving the young people parked beside the dumpster. Before she drove away, she could see that the girl, Nancy, had dropped her head onto the passenger's lap again. She was probably just reaching for something on the floor, Raven told herself. She knew what it looked like, but they had promised that they wouldn't make that mistake again.

And she trusted them.