October Story Month #29
Title: You Can't Win Them All
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,180
Story Arc: Unusual Florida
Summary: Cassie's on the job.
Note: Crossposted to Dreamwidth.
"Hey, Debra."
"Officer," said the petite woman behind the counter. She set down the Coke she was carrying in front of one of the customers sitting at the bar and crossed to the other side. Leaning against the counter, she said, "How's it going tonight?"
"Can't complain," replied Deputy Officer Cassandra Simmons, but her attention was already elsewhere, taking in the rest of the small diner. It wasn't hard to pinpoint her target. "That her?" she asked, leaning against a stool and tipping her head toward the booth in the back corner.
"Yep," said Debra. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Came in about an hour ago. Ordered a Coke with a handful of change. I think--" she leaned even closer--"I think it's all she had."
"Has she said anything to you?" Cassie was trying to keep the young woman in the corner in her sight while appearing completely uninterested. She didn't want to scare the girl off.
"Not much," said Debra. "I didn't want to pry. Thought I'd leave it to someone who knows what they're doing." She raised her eyebrows at Cassie.
"I don't know that I know what I'm doing exactly," Cassie muttered, but she stood up.
"You're the one in the uniform, Officer," said Debra, and she left to refill someone's coffee.
She was the one in the uniform. It was hard for her to remember that sometimes. She had only been an officer in the Jacksonville Police Department for three months, after completing a police training course during her last year of college. It had been an almost impulsive choice, to go into law enforcement; all during college she had been pre-law and had just started looking seriously at law schools when the offer of the training course had come through. At first she had signed up for the course partly out of curiosity and partly out of figuring knowing something about law enforcement would only work in the favor of someone planning to go into criminal law.
Plus with her workload she had never managed to shed the dreaded Freshman fifteen at any point during college, so she figured some forced physical activity would kick her increasingly-flabby butt into gear.
But as she'd gotten into training she found that she had liked it. Her preparations for law school had fallen by the wayside, and when the end of the training course came she had decided to apply for jobs at police departments around Florida.
Her family was, in a word, disapproving. In some cases, disgusted. She still remembered the way James's lip had curled up into a sneer. "You're going to be a cop?"
"It's a noble profession," Amy had said. She was the only one who had approached anything like supportive of her sister, but there was no hiding the confusion and slight disappointment behind her eyes.
"It's not a profession for someone who was pre-law at an Ivy League!" James had argued.
"Shut up," Cassie had said, regressing to her youth, when she and James had often butted heads. "You're such a snob. Why are you such a snob?"
He had only sneered at her again, and turned away. He had closed himself off to her long ago.
Now, she took a deep breath and approached the girl in the booth. She seemed to be focused entirely on her Coke, her hands wrapped around it like it was a lifeline, the condensation on the glass dripping down her fingers. As Cassie drew closer, she saw that the girl couldn't be older than fifteen, and also that if she was out on the streets alone it hadn't been for long. Her jacket looked clean and fairly new, the jeans designer. Her blond hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, but she looked more like a suburban kid on a lazy Saturday afternoon. Cassie told herself not to make assumptions before she had more information.
"Hey," she said, stepping up next to the booth. "Mind if I sit?"
The girl looked up, startled. Her gaze roamed from Cassie's face to her badge, and her large gray eyes widened. She made a move to slide out of the booth.
"Hold on," said Cassie. "I'm not going to do anything. I just want to talk."
The girl looked up at her defiantly. "I'm eighteen, and it's not past curfew anyway."
If the girl was eighteen than Cassie was the Queen of England. But she was right that it wasn't yet past curfew, though it was nearly.
"So you live around here?" asked Cassie. "You'll be heading home soon?"
"I haven't done anything wrong," said the girl, turning back to her Coke. "I know my rights and there's nothing you can arrest me for."
"I'm not going to arrest you," said Cassie, sliding into the opposite booth. "I just want to talk."
"About what?" The girl's sneer reminded Cassie so much of James that she barely kept herself from shuddering.
"This is kind of a dangerous part of town," said Cassie conversationally.
"Maybe I like that," said the girl.
Cassie leaned back in the seat. She knew that look in the girl's eyes, the set of her shoulders. It wasn't James she was reminding Cassie of now. "What's your name?"
"Anna," said the girl.
"That's a nice name," said Cassie. It was obviously false, from the way the girl had hesitated slightly before offering it. But she didn't push the issue. "Anna" was up to something that made her distrust the police, but Cassie wasn't going to uncover it by pushing. "My name's Cassandra."
The girl sniffed.
"I ran away from home once," Cassie continued.
Anna started. "I'm not a runaway! If that's what you think, then you're wrong. I'm not--"
Cassie held up one hand. "I wasn't talking about you."
"I'm not an idiot," said the girl. She reached over and grabbed the book bag that was sitting next to her in the booth. "I have to go now. You can finish my Coke if you want. I really wanted Pepsi, but this stupid place doesn't have it."
"Anna, wait," said Cassie. The girl stopped, the set of her entire body showing Cassie just how reluctant it was. "I just want to make sure you're safe. You can come to me or anyone at the department for help. If you're in trouble--"
"I'm not in trouble!" Anna cried, and just like that Cassie had lost her, not that she'd managed to have her in the first place.
As she watched the young woman stalk out of the diner, Cassie sighed. Debra approached her and said, "What was that all about?"
"Just that I really don't know what I'm doing," said Cassie dejectedly. Already she was thinking of ways she could have handled the situation better, of what she had said wrong. "Whatever that girl's going through, I think I just made it worse."
"You can't win them all," said Debra. "I got to get back to work. You want anything?"
"No," said Cassie. "I have to get back to work, too."
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,180
Story Arc: Unusual Florida
Summary: Cassie's on the job.
Note: Crossposted to Dreamwidth.
"Hey, Debra."
"Officer," said the petite woman behind the counter. She set down the Coke she was carrying in front of one of the customers sitting at the bar and crossed to the other side. Leaning against the counter, she said, "How's it going tonight?"
"Can't complain," replied Deputy Officer Cassandra Simmons, but her attention was already elsewhere, taking in the rest of the small diner. It wasn't hard to pinpoint her target. "That her?" she asked, leaning against a stool and tipping her head toward the booth in the back corner.
"Yep," said Debra. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Came in about an hour ago. Ordered a Coke with a handful of change. I think--" she leaned even closer--"I think it's all she had."
"Has she said anything to you?" Cassie was trying to keep the young woman in the corner in her sight while appearing completely uninterested. She didn't want to scare the girl off.
"Not much," said Debra. "I didn't want to pry. Thought I'd leave it to someone who knows what they're doing." She raised her eyebrows at Cassie.
"I don't know that I know what I'm doing exactly," Cassie muttered, but she stood up.
"You're the one in the uniform, Officer," said Debra, and she left to refill someone's coffee.
She was the one in the uniform. It was hard for her to remember that sometimes. She had only been an officer in the Jacksonville Police Department for three months, after completing a police training course during her last year of college. It had been an almost impulsive choice, to go into law enforcement; all during college she had been pre-law and had just started looking seriously at law schools when the offer of the training course had come through. At first she had signed up for the course partly out of curiosity and partly out of figuring knowing something about law enforcement would only work in the favor of someone planning to go into criminal law.
Plus with her workload she had never managed to shed the dreaded Freshman fifteen at any point during college, so she figured some forced physical activity would kick her increasingly-flabby butt into gear.
But as she'd gotten into training she found that she had liked it. Her preparations for law school had fallen by the wayside, and when the end of the training course came she had decided to apply for jobs at police departments around Florida.
Her family was, in a word, disapproving. In some cases, disgusted. She still remembered the way James's lip had curled up into a sneer. "You're going to be a cop?"
"It's a noble profession," Amy had said. She was the only one who had approached anything like supportive of her sister, but there was no hiding the confusion and slight disappointment behind her eyes.
"It's not a profession for someone who was pre-law at an Ivy League!" James had argued.
"Shut up," Cassie had said, regressing to her youth, when she and James had often butted heads. "You're such a snob. Why are you such a snob?"
He had only sneered at her again, and turned away. He had closed himself off to her long ago.
Now, she took a deep breath and approached the girl in the booth. She seemed to be focused entirely on her Coke, her hands wrapped around it like it was a lifeline, the condensation on the glass dripping down her fingers. As Cassie drew closer, she saw that the girl couldn't be older than fifteen, and also that if she was out on the streets alone it hadn't been for long. Her jacket looked clean and fairly new, the jeans designer. Her blond hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, but she looked more like a suburban kid on a lazy Saturday afternoon. Cassie told herself not to make assumptions before she had more information.
"Hey," she said, stepping up next to the booth. "Mind if I sit?"
The girl looked up, startled. Her gaze roamed from Cassie's face to her badge, and her large gray eyes widened. She made a move to slide out of the booth.
"Hold on," said Cassie. "I'm not going to do anything. I just want to talk."
The girl looked up at her defiantly. "I'm eighteen, and it's not past curfew anyway."
If the girl was eighteen than Cassie was the Queen of England. But she was right that it wasn't yet past curfew, though it was nearly.
"So you live around here?" asked Cassie. "You'll be heading home soon?"
"I haven't done anything wrong," said the girl, turning back to her Coke. "I know my rights and there's nothing you can arrest me for."
"I'm not going to arrest you," said Cassie, sliding into the opposite booth. "I just want to talk."
"About what?" The girl's sneer reminded Cassie so much of James that she barely kept herself from shuddering.
"This is kind of a dangerous part of town," said Cassie conversationally.
"Maybe I like that," said the girl.
Cassie leaned back in the seat. She knew that look in the girl's eyes, the set of her shoulders. It wasn't James she was reminding Cassie of now. "What's your name?"
"Anna," said the girl.
"That's a nice name," said Cassie. It was obviously false, from the way the girl had hesitated slightly before offering it. But she didn't push the issue. "Anna" was up to something that made her distrust the police, but Cassie wasn't going to uncover it by pushing. "My name's Cassandra."
The girl sniffed.
"I ran away from home once," Cassie continued.
Anna started. "I'm not a runaway! If that's what you think, then you're wrong. I'm not--"
Cassie held up one hand. "I wasn't talking about you."
"I'm not an idiot," said the girl. She reached over and grabbed the book bag that was sitting next to her in the booth. "I have to go now. You can finish my Coke if you want. I really wanted Pepsi, but this stupid place doesn't have it."
"Anna, wait," said Cassie. The girl stopped, the set of her entire body showing Cassie just how reluctant it was. "I just want to make sure you're safe. You can come to me or anyone at the department for help. If you're in trouble--"
"I'm not in trouble!" Anna cried, and just like that Cassie had lost her, not that she'd managed to have her in the first place.
As she watched the young woman stalk out of the diner, Cassie sighed. Debra approached her and said, "What was that all about?"
"Just that I really don't know what I'm doing," said Cassie dejectedly. Already she was thinking of ways she could have handled the situation better, of what she had said wrong. "Whatever that girl's going through, I think I just made it worse."
"You can't win them all," said Debra. "I got to get back to work. You want anything?"
"No," said Cassie. "I have to get back to work, too."