Punk
I wasn't really hiding when Chief Swan came home early on the day my perv finally said yes.
Nope.
I was just curled up really, really small on his porch swing under that big old stinky coat he wears when he fishes with Jake's dad.
The chief wasn't really listening to my dad lose his shit, even though we could both hear him ranting on and on about what a waste of fucking space I was. It was nothing new, not really.
Nope.
I wasn't hiding, and the chief wasn't listening.
Just like I didn't really steal the cruiser and drive it around town for an hour until I finally tracked Perv down.
Nope.
I didn't steal it.
When Chief Swan tossed his keys onto the swing right next to my hidden head, I figured he was giving me permission, so I fired up the engine just as my dad ran outside. Then I drove it like I stole it.
In the rear-view mirror, I saw Chief Swan shrug his shoulders as my dad waved his arms in the air like he wanted to punch me.
Chief Swan is my hero.
I so wish he was my dad.