Getting out of the police car, I was arguing with Greg.
“It’s an undercover mission,” I said, “So why the hell would you report in a police uniform?”
“In case they need to know that we’re really officers!”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Aroma of Christ Church?” I heard Morton mutter, but I didn’t pay any attention- I just walked up the steps, still arguing with Greg.
“Don’t blame me when they don’t let you in because they can’t tell if you’re a cop or not!” Greg said.
“Dude, I have my badge, and I have my motherfucking ID so why in hell would I need to wear my uniform?”
“They’ll think you’re a mugger or something!”
“Why will they?”
“Those ripped jeans don’t give the best impression.”
“You said this morning you liked these jeans!”
“That was before you turned up to work in them!” he said, marching off into the church.
“I cannot believe you!” I shouted after him, following him in and over to the pew that Morton was already sat on, embarrassed that people had turned to stare.
After a short while of waiting, a black man came up to the front of the church and started swearing at us.
“Get you motherfucking asses up when I’m talking to you!” he screamed and we all stood up (I say all, it was probably Morton, Greg, and I, plus three other people.
Then he continued, “You will be going undercover as high school student. You are only here because you look young; some Justin Beaver, Miley Cyrus looking motherfuckers.”
Then he started going on about how he is an angry black man and how that is a stereotype and how we have to embrace our stereotypes or something like that. Then he turned his attention to Morton and Greg (probably because they were the only ones in uniform... I did tell them).
“Like this one; handsome,” Greg smiled, “And he’s probably a dummy!” Greg’s smile was wiped off his face.
“And this one,” he pointed to Morton, “He’s short and insecure.... And he’s probably good with money.”
“You are good with money,” Greg leaned over me to whisper to Morton.
“What the fuck?” Morton whispered, as the captain had him sussed.
“And this girl,” he pointed to me (oh shit); “She stands in the middle of them all the time so she’s protective of them. If she’s protective of a dummy and some insecure little short guy, then she’ll be nice... Probably quite smart too.”
I smiled at the floor, before blushing when Greg whispered to me, “You are nice and you are very smart.”
I smiled up at him, and he smiled back down at me.
“Now you two motherfuckers, did nobody tell you that this is an undercover unit?” the captain asked.
I pulled Greg down by the shirt so that I could whisper in his ear.
“Told ya so.”
“Shut up,” he said, though he was laughing quietly.
“Teenage the fuck up!” he yelled.
I ushered the boys into another room which happened to be piled high with clothes of every kind.
“Size!” I demanded of the both.
“Shirt- medium!” yelled Greg.
“Shirt- large!” yelled Morton.
“You guys find some jeans and I’ll find you t-shirts!” I said.
“Okay!” they both yelled, pumping their fists in excitement, which obviously made me laugh.
YOU ARE READING
Bully, turned best friend, turned lover?! - A Greg Jenko Love Story
FanfictionEmber Schmidt (or Em as everyone usually calls her) is the sister of Morton Schmidt. During high school the two were bullied by Greg Jenko, but years later they form and alliance with him during police training. Now they are all on an undercover mis...
