10. Trigga #2
She closed the laptop that was sitting in front of her before standing.
Up close, I noticed that she was about my age.
Maybe a little older. She had light brown skin, freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, round glasses were sitting on her nose, and a little gap between her front teeth that somehow fit her perfectly.
She carried a tablet over to one of the desks and smiled politely.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Pops and I took the seats across from her. She tapped a few things on the screen before extending her hand.
“I’ll need your ID.”
I handed it over.
“Thank you.”
Her eyes moved back and forth between my license and the information she was entering. Every few seconds she’d ask another question. Her tone was professional, almost like she’d done it a hundred times.
“So…”
I leaned back in my chair.
“You work here?”
She shook her head without looking up.
“No.”
“It looks like you do,” I said as I waved my hand at the task she was doing.
“I’m a student,” she clarified.
That finally got my attention.
“You are?”
She nodded.
“I volunteer around the office when they need extra help. It keeps me busy between classes.”
One of the advisers passed by and smiled.
“We appreciate it too.”
Penelope laughed softly.
“I know. That’s why I keep coming back.”
The woman disappeared into another office, leaving the three of us alone again.
“What are you studying?” I asked.
This time she actually looked at me.
“Web development.”
“So…making websites and stuff?” I said as I nodded slowly.
“Pretty much.”
“You like it?”
“I love it.”
There wasn’t even a second of hesitation. The way her face lit up when she answered caught me off guard.
“You ever think about building apps?” I asked.
“Eventually, but websites first,” she smiled.
I couldn’t help smiling back.
“That’s dope.”
She thanked me quietly before clicking into another section of the application.
“So…”
She glanced at the screen.
“Have you decided on a major?”
“I have.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Criminal justice,” I said confidently.
The second the words left my mouth, Pops let out a laugh beside me. Not a loud laugh. Just enough to make me turn toward him.
“What?”
He rubbed his beard while still grinning.
“Criminal justice?” he questioned.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“I’m positive,” I said with a laugh.
He leaned back in his chair.
“So, after everything you know about our family, that’s the career path you picked?”
I already knew where this was going.
“I knew you was gonna say something.”
“I ain’t said nothing yet,” Pops said.
“You laughed.”
“’Cause it’s hilarious.”
I shook my head.
“I figured somebody in this family should be on the other side of the law.”
That earned a full laugh out of him. He pointed at me.
“Boy, if your mama was sitting here, she’d tell you to hush.”
“I’m just saying.”
He chuckled.
“I’m trying to picture my son putting handcuffs on somebody.”
“I could,” I said confidently.
Pops laughed harder.
Penelope looked up from the tablet. Her eyes were moving between the two of us before the smallest smile tugged at her lips. It disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
“I think criminal justice is a solid choice. It gives you a lot of different career options,” she said.
I looked back at her.
“So, you approve?” I asked with a slight smirk on my face.
“I think people should study whatever they’re passionate about.”
Her response was simple and honest. Then, just like that, she went right back to finishing my application. I sat there watching her fingers move across the screen again. She sat there so focused and unbothered. She was still paying me just enough attention to do her job and not a bit more.
For some reason, that only made me want to know her even more.
By the time we walked back outside, I had my student ID tucked inside an admissions folder along with my class schedule for the upcoming semester.
Pops unlocked the Durango, and we climbed in.
The drive started off quiet. I flipped through the papers in my lap while Pops pulled out of the parking lot and merged into traffic.
English Composition
Introduction to Criminal Justice
General Psychology
College Algebra
Seeing the classes in black and white made everything feel a little more real. I wasn’t just talking about college anymore; I was actually going.
“You know…” Pops said after a few minutes.
I looked up from the folder.
“What?”
He kept one hand on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road.
“That little girl helping with your application…”
I already knew where this was headed.
“What about her?”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You thought she was cute.”
I laughed.
“I did not.”
He finally looked over at me.
“Boy, quit lying.”
“I ain’t lying.”
“You watched that girl the whole time she was helping you.”
“I was paying attention to the process,” I tried to admit.
“Mhm.”
He nodded like he believed me, which somehow made it worse.
“I know what paying attention looks like.”
I shook my head.
“She ain’t even my type.”
Honestly, she wasn’t, and that’s why my interest in her was so mind-boggling to me. Pops chuckled to himself.
“If you say so.”
A few more seconds passed before he spoke again.
“You know…”
He smiled as he looked back at the road.
“Your mom had a little gap in between her front teeth too.”
The joke died in the truck. My eyes drifted toward the passenger window.
Outside, Miami kept moving. Inside… My mind had already gone somewhere else.
My eyes stayed on the passing traffic outside the passenger window.
“Your mom had a little gap in between her front teeth too.” Just like that… I was seven years old again.
Mama stood in front of the hallway mirror fastening the buttons on a navy-blue blazer.
Her heels clicked softly against the hardwood floor as she moved between the bathroom and her bedroom, gathering everything she needed for work.
Even dressed in a suit, she somehow still looked like my mama.
Beautiful. Important. And most importantly, busy.
“You ready, MJ?” she called.
I came running around the corner with my Spiderman backpack bouncing against my shoulders.
“I’ve been ready.”
She laughed.
“No, you’ve been rushing me.”
She crouched in front of me and straightened the collar of my uniform shirt before smoothing my hair with the palm of her hand.
“There. Now you look handsome.”
I grinned.
“Mama?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“When I grow up…”
I looked up at her with all the seriousness a seven-year-old could have.
“I want an important job like you.”
Her smile softened.
“You do?”
I nodded.
“You help people.”
She leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
“You don’t have to wear a suit to help people.”
“I know,” I shrugged, “but I want one anyway.”
That made her laugh again.
“Come on, Mr. Lawyer.”
She reached for my hand, and together we walked toward the front door. The second we stepped outside, I looked at the car.
“Mama…”
“Hm?”
“Can I sit in the front today?”
She didn’t even think about it.
“No, baby.”
She opened the back door instead.
“You’re still my little boy.”
I sighed dramatically before climbing into the backseat anyway. She laughed as she buckled me in.
“One day,” she smiled, “but not today.”
The memory faded as quickly as it came. I blinked, finding myself back in Pops’ Durango.
The city blurred past my window. It’s funny…
For years I’d begged my mama to let me ride in the front seat.
And when she finally did, it was the night she died.
I’d give anything to have been told “not today” one more time.