I Still Wish She Was Mine

"So you just kept driving?!"

"Yeah. I was dating a cop at the time so I honestly didn't think anything of it."

"But you hit her!"

"Who's telling the story here? Me or you? Because for someone who's 'listening,' you sure are talking an awful lot."

She shut up after this - at least for a little while. And thank God. I hate when people interrupt my stories.

I readjusted myself in my chair, pulling my hair back into a matted bun, preparing myself to complete my tale.

"Deep breaths." I mumbled to myself.

She looked at me in confusion, her blonde curly hair framing her reddened face. I thought she might be sunburnt, but I couldn't be sure - it had been a while since I'd been outside.

"Anyways," I continued "We had gotten about a mile down the road when I decided to call Jake."

She looked as though she was about to speak.

"My boyfriend who was a cop." I hurriedly added, not wanting to hear anymore of her squeaky voice.

Her phone starting ringing.

"You're really unprofessional, you know." I said, hating her for nothing, yet everything.

"I'm a popular lawyer." She replied.

"Don't get sassy with me."

Her blue eyes began to fill with hurt.

Good.

"As I was saying, I called Jake, sure that he would have a solution. Now, it's important for you to know that I was sixteen at the time and Jake was, well, 30. So nobody actually knew that we were dating."

She scribbled in her notebook as if she was a five year old who had gotten ahold of some new crayons.

God, she was disgusting.

"He answered the phone as if he didn't know who I was - he was at work, and, again, a thirty year old with a sixteen year old girlfriend. So it was pretty normal for him to answer me in this manner, as he didn't want his partner to catch onto him. But, when I came to the part of the story where-"

"Wait. In what way did he answer the phone like he didn't know you?" she interrupted.

"Do I have to spell everything out for you? He would answer like he was taking a spam phone call or answering a random number."

"And what would he normally be doing during this time?"

"Driving around with his partner." I answered, agitated now.

"Why would it make sense for him to answer a spam call when he was on the clock?"

"I didn't call him at work everyday - I only bothered him while he was working whenever something major happened." I said, feeling like I was speaking to a child.

"But still-" she started.

"I don't need your opinion on the matter. That's what he would do. I can't change that."

She just stared at me, slightly fogged from my breath on the glass between us.

"Anyways," I continued. "when I got to the part of the story where I told him that I kept driving, he hung up. And when I tried to call back, it went straight to voicemail."

"Interesting." She added while continuing her scribbling.

"Hush."

"I'm sorry but I do have to ask one thing that they didn't tell me before I got here."

"I don't need an explanation or an apology from you. Just ask the damn question. The sooner you shut up, the better."

"How old are you now?"

"How rude." I was aghast.

"I'm sorry ma'a-"

"What'd I say about apologies? I'm 36 years young."

"Young. Yes, of course. Well, you look great." She said, multitasking nodding, scribbling, and kissing my ass all at once.

"Damn right I do."

There was a moment in silence after this in which she just stared at me, looking me up and down from my orange jumpsuit to my tasseled brown hair. I'm sure this was both out of shame for asking the age question and to simply admire the beautiful woman in front of her - aka: me.

"Anyways." I said for about the millionth time. "After it went to voicemail, I finally realized what I had done. And that's when I decided that I needed to get out of there. So I drove straight to Mexico."

"What about your parents?"

"Like they gave a shit. One out of nine kids gone was a blessing. So I stayed in Mexico for a few years, until I was old enough to get certified as a cop myself."

"Woah, woah, woah. Back up." She interrupted.

I was shocked. I had already warned her once to watch her attitude. And everyone - I mean everyone - knew that I was a menace to society. So nobody ever talked to me that way - at least not twice. Then again, there were security guards everywhere and glass between us. I guess there was really no reason for her to fear me. I hated that.

"What happened to the girl that you hit in the parking lot?" She asked.

"Died on impact." I answered with a straight face while watching hers contort with disgust.

I giggled.

"Okay so was there ever a warrant out for your arrest?"

"No."

"How did no one ever find out?" She pried.

"Jake covered it up for me."

"How?"

"Who the fuck knows."

"I thought he hung up on you."

"He did."

"Well did you ever speak again?"

"Let me finish my story."

She went silent.

"Moving on," I said, "I got certified to be a police officer."

"One more question." She interrupted.

I waited.

"The police didn't figure anything out about the girl you killed when they did a background check?"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" I said, aggravated now. "Jake covered it up for me."

"Oh." She said, looking down shamefully at her notepad.

"Anyways, I became a police officer back in my hometown of Santa Cruz, California."

I then looked her directly in the eyes, eager to scare her, continuing by saying: "I was looking for vengeance."

She sat back.

I was pleased by this reaction.

"When I came across Jake, he didn't recognize my 24-year-old self, as I had stopped bleaching my hair, wearing pounds of jewelry, and had gotten my horrendous acne under control. Oh, and the lip fillers didn't help."

She smirked, her obviously filled lips struggling to move into a slight smile.

"And then I killed him."

She looked at me, as if she was waiting for more.

Seconds passed, then minutes, as she just sat there staring at me, while I was taking my hair out of its bun, then toying with the hairband on my fingers.

Finally, she broke.

"Well, why did you kill him?" She asked, stupidly.

"He hung up on me." I responded calmly.

"But he covered up your murder for yo-"

"I didn't care. Still don't. No one hangs up on me."

She shook her head.

"I think we're done here. Our practice can't defend you if you don't have reasoning." She said, sending chills up my spine, packing up her things, and walking out the door, only looking back once to see me flip her off as she left. The security guards then dragged me back into the dark hole from which I came.

Honestly, I still miss her.

I wish she could've been mine.