Page 2 of No Cap

I knew all of them in that room except one and figured that was my culprit.

“Ma’am,” I said to the woman who wasn’t familiar. “I need you to move your car.”

As if she actually knew that I was speaking to her and not the other four women in the room, she looked up, and her eyes locked with mine.

I felt like I’d been sucker punched.

Her eyes were the color of a warm whiskey on a cold winter day.

“You can just deal with it,” she said. “Write the ticket. I’ll deal with it later.”

My brows rose.

And no matter how hard I tried, she ignored me.

I mean, I understood.

There was a kid who was needing X-rays, and she was the one to do them.

But she could at least acknowledge me or show some remorse.

She gave me none of that.

And, too tired to force the issue even though I knew she was finishing up, I left.

I wrote the ticket.

Then I drove home and, ignoring the stack of case files on my kitchen table, went back to bed.

Shitbox rule of thumb: If it’s leaking oil, you still have oil. Keep driving, besties!

—Hollis to Keda

HOLLIS

“Are you ready, Keda?” I sang as I got out of my car and twirled around the forecourt of her apartment complex.

Keda, my very best friend in the world, laughed as she watched me twirl. “I’m ready. Are you sure you want to wait to eat?”

I gestured to my car. “I stopped and got us a couple of candy bars to hold us over.”

Snickering, she headed to the door of my car, not bothering to comment on the new scratch on the front quarter panel.

She did say something about the parking ticket that was sitting in the middle console, though.

“Another one?” She laughed, patting it lightly as she reached for her seatbelt.

I groaned. “A guy side swiped me today and instead of the dude who hit me getting a ticket, they gave one to me because I wasn’t ‘legally’ parked.”

She picked up the ticket and read it. “Q. Carter. Badge number 2992984. We should report him.”

I snorted. “Technically, I know he is a male, but I was too busy to notice much else,’” I said. “I was at work.”

“They didn’t try to come find you?” she asked.

“I was in the middle of running some X-rays on a couple of kids. Someone came to get me, but I didn’t go down. The ticket was on my car when I got out earlier,” I admitted.

“That sucks.” She sighed. “You have the worst luck with this car.”