Sabrina Mason only wanted two things for her final year of college at Duke University, and that was to stay away from boys and maintain her 4.0 gpa. She's an introvert with a little bit of fire that sets her apart from the rest. Whilst living with h...
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Sabrina
I think I just shit my pants.
Looking into my rear-view, I cursed under my breath as blue and red lights filled the dark night. I felt a bead of sweat drip down my spine as I pressed on the brakes and pulled my car over to the side of the road.
I was being pulled over by a police officer, no doubt by the consequences of my lead foot.
Flicking on the indoor lights, I reached over to my glovebox and pulled out my license and registration. I checked back in the mirror and saw that the police officer was making his way over.
Shit, shit, shit. This was my third time being pulled over in the past few months and there was no question that it was going to be a hefty ticket. My mom is going to kill me.
The familiar tapping on my window brought me out of my mini freak-sesh and I quickly pressed the button to let it come down. The breezy end of summer air filled my vehicle, the slight wind blowing my hair at its touch.
"Good evening, ma'am. Were you aware that you were going twenty over the speed limit?" The officer asked me, his tone annoyed and harsh as his eyes briefly searched the contents of my car. "License and registration please."
With sweaty palms and shaky hands, I handed him the correct papers. He happily took it, his gaze skimming over it before leaning off the side of my car.
"I'm so sorry officer, I—"
"I'll be back in a few." He cut me off quickly, obviously ticked off that he had to pull me over.
My mouth fell open at his rude behavior and I watched him retreat back to his cop car. As his figure dipped back inside, I bit my lip and looked down at my fighting hands. I twisted and turned the ring, which was gifted to me by my grandmother for a past birthday, and patiently waited for him to come back.
Of course he took his leisurely time.
I think I sat there for about ten minutes before his shuffling feet filled my ears again. I glanced out of the vehicle and grabbed my papers from his outreached hands. Placing them into the light, I began skimming over the fine lines.
$185.
Fucking hell.
"So where are you heading this late at night, young lady?" The officer asked me. I took my eyes off of my expensive ticket and moved them to his direction. He was an older policeman with salt and pepper colored hair, along with some bright blue eyes. I squinted at his name tag, Officer Bradshaw.
