terrible things - ashton irwin

twenty three

Objects in a mirror are closer than they appear. That's what your car's side mirror will tell you, but i am here to say that the minute you can make out that the object you see is a police car, it is already way too close.

"Ashton," i hissed, panic rising in my voice.

"Maybe they're not after us," he said. "I was only going... hmmm, twenty miles over the speed limit. Heck, it's practically a crime to go any slower arounds here. This is Las Vegas, baby, everything's legal but good behaviour."

I could tell by the sound of his voice that Ashton didn't want to believe this but wanted me to. He didn't want to me to be afraid

He never had, for as long as I'd known him.

"Pull over to the right-hand shoulder." The amplified, crackling voice came through a megaphone mounted on the side of the police car.

Ashton glanced down at the speedometer as if checking to see how high the numbers went. Like he was wondering if he should try to out run the guy.

"Don't even think about it," I warned. "Do what the police man says."

"You don't sound much like Bonnie," he said reproachfully.

"For God's sake, this isn't a movie. This is life! Pull over!"

I was reaching for the wheel to yank it to the right when Ashton slowed, flicked on his turn signal as polite as you please, and eased onto the right shoulder.

"See? I cam follow directions," Ashton said. He tried to keep his tone light.

But it didn't matter now. I put my face in my hand. We were caught. I saw the headlines, the hideous jumpsuit they'd make us wear. Was I old enough to be tried as an adult?

"It's going to be okay," Ashton said quietly.

Liar, I thought.

"License and registration," he said gruffly.

Not even a "please."

"Sir," Ashton began, "is there a problem?"

The officers hand shot out. "License and registration," he said again. 

Ashton smiled and ingratiatingly. "I believe was going the speed of traffic, perhaps it was a trifle fast,"

"License and registration."

Ashton turned to me, his eyes wide. "He seems ti have a somewhat limited vocabulary," he whispered, and to my horror, i almost burst into giddy laughter.

I covered my mouth as Ashton made a show of rooting around in the glove compartment. "It's in here somewhere," he said.

The cop began tapping impatiently on the roof of the car. Then he leaned in and . looked at both of us carefully. He had small, mean eyes and an angry mouth. 

"Not many kids got a car this nice," he said. "You'd think their folks'd teach 'em how to drive it. But spoiled little rich kids, they don't listen to their parents much, do they?"

It was the first time in my life anyone had mistaken me for rich.

"I liked him much better when he didn't talk," I whispered to Ashton.

Ashton pulled out the registration and handed it over. The cop inspected it. "License," he said.

"Sir, this is all a mistake," Ashton said. "I'm very sorry for speeding. If you'll just let us go with a warning, I promise I'll never do it again."