Another man joins in, this one older than the last and rather portly. “I know three individuals who became chief of police. Each one excelled academically. You’re on the right path, my boy. If you keep this up, earn a few degrees, you could be enjoying a similar future.”
“Th-thank you,” Miles says, his hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing exactly, but I appreciate the kind words.”
“Don’t you ever limit yourself. That’s the problem a lot of young people face. They think they need to put their careers on hold for other aspects of life. Get your career underway first, and then start a family. That’s a real piece of advice.”
The bulky guy adds several yeah, yeahs to the statement before saying, “Most of these career cops have family members already on the force when they start, so it’s easy for them to stay focused and know what to do. Guys like us—with no family in law enforcement—we gotta work extra hard to stay on track. It’s worth it, though. And rewarding.”
Miles nods. “I’m looking forward to it. A few of my instructors say they can get me a job as soon as I graduate.”
“Most definitely. Every department wants the best of the best. Top of the class students are the cream of the crop, so to speak.”
The older man with the gut rubs at his lower back. “Excuse me,” he says with a grunt. “I need to use the restroom.” He walks away, one leg stiff.
I stare down at my soaked outfit. I’m not presentable in the least bit. I follow the other gentlemen to the restroom, intent on drying off physically, if need be, and catch him standing at the middle sink, washing his face.
I grab a few paper towels and take the sink next to him, drying my hair and brushing off my jacket.
“How’s it goin’?” I ask.
The bathroom, while occupied with a few individuals, is quiet enough for private conversation. It’s also large enough for forty people, which helps too.
“Very well,” the man replies, splashing water across his cheeks.
“I heard what you said back there,” I say, cutting to the chase. “Did you say all those things just to puff the kid up?”
The man smiles. “Who, Miles? Oh, no. I meant it. The last chief of police for Rockford is a close friend of mine. He was top of his class in the police academy, earned a bachelor’s degree while working as a beat cop, got a master’s degree—on the dean’s list, to boot—and became a captain ten years into his career, at the age of thirty. His advance knew no bounds. Three years later he was chief of police and held that title for close to two decades.”
“Isn’t that position rather political?” I ask as I faux wash my hands.
“It can get political in some cities, yes. But Miles is a polite and good-humored young man. That often wins over more people than you think.”
Oh, I know.
“Interesting,” I say. “Thanks for the chat.”
I exit the bathroom while the guy responds. I don’t hear a thing, but I don’t care either.
Miles’s success doesn’t surprise me. I knew he was a smart kid the first night I spent any time with him. Maybe I didn’t understand how far his cleverness extended, since his meteoric strides have caught me off guard. Everyone wants to bat their eyes and compliment him—which means they think he’s going to be somebody one day. Somebody important.
When I return, he’s still engaged in conversation, but with fewer people. I take my place at his side, interrupting all discussion with my presence.
Miles turns and looks me over. “Pierce? How far away did you park? You’re soaked.”
“It wasn’t far,” I state.
The woman in a red dress holds out a hand. “I’m Sergeant Cabana. Nice to meet you.”
I shake her hand. It’s a sturdy thing—and I appreciate that—but she’s still a cop. I say nothing.
“Pierce and I are dating,” Miles says, making up for my lack of communication.
“Oh,” Sergeant Cabana replies, her voice betraying some displeasure brought about by the information. “Well, you two might want to find your seats and get settled, then. It was nice speaking to you.”
“Yes. It was nice speaking with you too.”
She turns and walks off, leaving Miles and me “alone” in a sea of people. Miles takes my arm and then jerks away his hand, his gaze locked on to my clothes as he wipes his palm off on his slacks.
“Did you fall into the swimming pool before you got here?” he quips.
“It was the rain,” I say.
Miles waits for further explanation. I don’t offer it.
“Our seats are over here,” he eventually says as he motions to a table. “We’re going to eat, and then they’re going to hand out awards and give a few speeches.”
“How long does this go?”
“It’s scheduled to go to midnight.”
“Hm.”
“Is that okay?”
“It’s fine.”
I walk over with Miles and take my seat at the table. We have assigned seating, with names at every chair. I’m “Miles’s Guest.” A few others have taken their place as well, and all three of them regard Miles with wide eyes and smiles.
“There he is!” the first man says, his voice loud and distinct. “First in our class!”
“Hello, Barry,” Miles says. “No need to shout.”
“Everyone should know, though. It was tough fought. More than two hundred people in the academy this year too. That’s more than the last five years in a row.”
“Yeah, but still. It’s no big deal.”
Barry laughs and then turns back to his conversation with the other two people at our table. I don’t have any need or desire to chat with anyone else, so I ignore
