“That car ran their light,” David explains. “I couldn’t brake in time.”
She looks over the hood of the truck at the car beside it.
“Can I have your license, sir? And the registration please?” She speaks with words directed toward David.
He methodically pulls out his wallet, retrieves his ID, and hands it to her. I reach into the glove box and grab the registration, reaching over David to pass it to her.
“I’ll be right back,” she says and heads back to her car.
David looks at me. “Would it be terrible if we faked an injury? I mean, we can get some good drugs from the ER I’m sure.”
“I’m not doing that, David. I can still get them from my friend.”
“Yeah, for like ten dollars a pill,” he says, a little too loudly.
“Shh! I'd rather pay for that than for an unnecessary ER visit.”
He is quiet for a few moments.
“Can we still get our pizza?” he asks.
The police woman stops to speak with the other officer on scene before walking back to us.
“My fellow officer corroborated your story with the witness over there. ” She nods as if the case is closed.
David smiles at her in his special way, and she smiles back, her cheeks flushing. She gives him his ID and gathers her composure before handing me the registration with much less finesse.
“Well, you guys are all set. Have a safe rest of your night.” She hesitates for a moment before turning and walking back to her car.
“Did you really just hit on her?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“I didn’t say anything to her,” he says with playful exasperation.
“You don’t even have to,” I whisper.