Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own them. It's too bad, too. Think of all the fun
I could have! Mitch Cross and Jennifer are actual people, however. I'm sure
they won't mind if I borrow their names. they don't seem like the fan
fiction type anyway.
A/N: I had actually begun this story earlier but soon after discarded it. While I was writing notes for the story I'm currently working on, I found the notes for this one, and decided to try again. I guess this is what happens when you sit in traffic school for eight hours. you write about it, while at the same time incorporating your favorite characters into it. So yeah, here is my story. Every event here is based on personal experience. Mind you, it was my first (and hopefully ONLY) session of traffic school, but quite an unforgettable event, to be honest. The rest is pure fiction (concerning the events betwixt the characters, location titles and what not). As usual, reviews are highly appreciated. Happy reading!
#2: Just to let those who are interested in knowing: this was not the story I was originally planning on posting next. That story is under heavy construction. I want that story to be as good as it can be, so I'm taking my dear sweet time.
Timeline: Let's say it takes place during the current year (2003). Ages range around 23 or 24.something like that.
TRAFFIC SCHOOL
(Saturday, November 1, 7:21 a.m.)
'I hate that stupid cop,' she consciously admitted to herself as she walked down the back path leading to the courtroom. 'He just HAPPENED to be there when I ran the red light, but where is he the rest of the time? Probably off eating donuts somewhere. I used to be a friggin' POWER RANGER, for Bob's sake! But do I get off with a warning? Noooo-' she was jolted out of thought as she walked right into a bulky individual standing with his back facing her.
The giant man turned around, broad-shouldered and at least two feet taller than she stood. His face was plain and irritated, and he stared down at the brunette with beady black eyes. "Can I help you with something, miss?" he grunted.
Stepping back a bit, she tugged down at her body-hugging, long- sleeved black turtleneck in attempt to cover her midriff. Her eyes looked straight ahead at the man's chest, focusing on a well shined golden star pinned to the pocket of the green uniform shirt. Underneath, her eyes spotted a gold nametag labeled with black lettering. Gulping nervously, she held out the stapled packet of papers in her thin, shaky fingers. "Um, actually, Deputy Cleary, I, um, I don't really know where I'm supposed to go-"
"Your designated class room is courtroom number three," he said with one glance at the top sheet. "Down the stairs and to your left." He pointed a fat finger past some tinted glass double doors that led to the inside of the building. "Make sure to have your driver's license ready, and watch where you're walking."
"Thanks," the petite woman said with embarrassment, following the direction of the stubby limb. Once inside, she proceeded to mimic the officer as her feet descended the stairs. ".and watch where you're walking, blah blah blah." Shaking her head and rolling her cinnamon eyes, she found herself forced to stand at the back of a long line of fellow traffic violators, waiting somewhat impatiently to be directed into the class room.
Her dark blue flare jeans tightly hugged her lower half as she leaned all of her weight onto one leg and let the other rest with a posed attitude. A short strand of mahogany hair fell into her eyes, and she blew it away, crossing her arms at her chest as she did so. The silky tendrils were tied in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, bundles of lazy curls entwining themselves, and she flipped them off of her shoulder with one turn of her head.
As she neared the man checking the court papers at the front of the line, she retrieved her license from her back pocket, having left her small shoulder purse in her car. Handing over her papers when it was her turn, she picked at a white piece of fuzz on the hem of her turtleneck.
"Good morning, ma'am. What city were you ticketed in?" The man who spoke had a short layer of aging hair and greenish blue eyes. His nose was long with a rounded point, and his cheekbones were set low and wide. He wasn't in the best shape, with somewhat of a belly and chubby cheeks, and he stood no more than three inches taller than her.
"Angel Grove." She watched him scribble a large letter "S" in red permanent ink on the second sheet of the packet, and received the papers and license, as well as three green information cards.
"Now, just go ahead and grab a booklet and clipboard inside, and take a seat wherever you can find one. You can fill out these information cards while you wait." He smiled and continued helping the last three customers.
Walking inside of the courtroom, the erstwhile music major did as she was told and picked up a clipboard from the cardboard box that supplied them on the floor, and then grabbed a booklet from the stack that lay just beside it. Standing straight and looking around, she was rather surprised at the simplicity of the courtroom's size. There were three sections of seats that faced the judge's stand, with five rows of six seats in each section. Choosing an aisle seat in the middle row of the middle section, she snuggled into the plaid cushion of the seat, which offered more comfort than appeal. Once settled, she took a moment to glance at the people around her.
Everyone seemed to be writing on their green cards, so she followed suit. Uncapping her blue ballpoint pen, she filled in her full name, the date, and all of the other requirements that she was able. Not more than a minute later did the instructor announce his arrival.
He was none other than the man she had seen outside, and he introduced himself as Mitch Cross. "Okay!" he said in an overly friendly voice, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Let me start the day off with asking how many of you wanted to come here today?"
The petite woman looked around the room, eyebrows raised at finding a hand in the air. It belonged to a teenager of about 17 or 18, five years younger than she. She rolled her cinnamon eyes and turned her focus back to Mr. Cross as he spoke in response.
"Alright, we've got one happy gentleman! But I know what the rest of you are thinking: 'Why on Earth would I want to get up at O'Dark-thirty in the morning to sit in traffic school for 8 hours?' The answer is simple, my friends. So you can earn your certificates!" As he lifted his fists into the air with exaggerated excitement, a tall dark haired woman of about 20 years was passing blank certificates down the aisles. "Jennifer will be my aide today, and right now she's passing out the one thing you need to confirm your completion of this course. When you get one, please, DO NOT write on it until I give you permission."
'This guy's got WAY too much energy, even for me,' she thought. It was amusing to watch the man bounce with every step he took about the room, greeting those who sat in the front rows with a wide smile and off-white teeth. His voice projected loudly to every corner of the room, and he seemed to have the attitude of a comedian when it came to mimicking the thoughts of the 'students' by changing the tone of his voice and using exaggerated facial expressions. 'At least it won't be too boring.'
After Mitch had explained what to fill out on all three of the green cards (which just repeated themselves) and the certificates, he picked on the person sitting in the seat next to the wall in the front row of the left section. "Sir, could you please tell me your first name and the reason you were ticketed?" The man replied, and Mitch went around the room, creating columns on a white board and adding a tally mark underneath for each person who committed a specified 'crime.' So far, the most popular law that was broken seemed to be speeding. The man at Kimberly's right (in the right section, aisle seat of the middle row) announced his name and reason. A new column was created, and a tally mark was placed under "Rolling Stop at a Stop Sign."
Before Mitch even had a chance to turn around, the long since retired pink ranger spoke without effort or enthusiasm. "Kimberly. I ran a red light."
Mitch looked at her and smiled in such a way that Kim felt a bit uneasy. It was the kind of smile that was overly friendly, even for the once bouncy and energetic gymnast. His hands were clasped together under his chin, and he continued to just smile and stare until Kim shifted in her seat.
"Well, I can tell you're excited to be here." Kim opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted. "Don't worry. I'm just teasing. But you answered so quickly. are you sure there isn't something ELSE you did?"
'What, is he trying to put me in the hot seat?' Kim chuckled. "Um, no, I'm pretty sure that's it."
Mitch unclasped his hands and added a tally to the "Red Light" column. "So, Kimberly's a red light runner." Without another word to her, he continued down the row. Ten speeders, an illegal U-turn, and a few other red light runners later, Kim was about ready to fall asleep.
'How much longer is this going to take?' she wondered. Crossing her legs, she slunk into the back of her chair and yawned.
Mitch called for the next person to state his crime. "And you, sir, what brings you here today?"
The man spoke loud and clear, apparently intending for a particular someone to hear him, for she had spoken first and he was certainly surprised that she would be here. "The cop wrote me up for having a tail light out, but I was speeding when he pulled me over."
It was then that Kim's ears perked up and her eyes opened. His voice was intensely familiar, and yet she could not bring herself to believe it. 'It's not completely impossible, though,' she argued. 'But still, it would be too big a coincidence.' Kimberly sat back up in her seat and slowly leaned forward, one inch at a time.
Mitch gave an interested face. "Really," he stated rather than asked. "Well, I can't actually say that you got lucky, because you still got the ticket." Turning around to the whiteboard behind him, he added a tally under the new category of "Broken Tail Light."
Leaning forward just enough to see down the row of the left section, Kim's eyebrows frowned as she could not find the face to match the name that floated in the front of her mind. 'Where is he?' she asked herself, trying to be as subtle as possible in spotting him.
Mitch faced his students again and said to the man, "Thank you, err. I'm sorry. What is your name?"
"Tommy." The man said. "My name is Tommy."
Kim's eyes widened. "I *knew* it," she accidentally whispered out loud. The woman in front of her turned around and gave the brunette a curious look, but Kim just waved her off with a smile. Leaning forward once more, she felt a shiver down her spine as her cinnamon eyes met a pair of familiar, deep mahogany eyes she knew all too well from so long ago. She jolted back in her seat, eyelids still wide and blinking. 'It IS him! He just *happened* to get traffic school on the same day as I did! This ought to be a little awkward.' Kim didn't know what to think. Within the hour, the students would be let out for a 15 minute break. It would be good to see him and catch up, but then she would be questioned on why she hadn't contacted anyone since Muranthias, and why she moved back without telling anyone. Well, she didn't technically move back, considering she was living in Stone Canyon now, but that was beside the point.
He was here. He had seen her. And he smiled.
He flashed her that gorgeous smile that only he could. It haunted so many of her dreams those first few months in Florida, and it was that smile that she had turned to a frown when she broke his heart in the lowest way possible. She never did forgive herself for such behavior. It was immature and inconsiderate, unfair and cowardly. but it would have been harder on the both of them if she had spoken to him personally.
Gulping, Kim relaxed her shoulders and shut her eyes. 'Calm down, Kim,' she coaxed herself. 'Be the mature adult you're supposed to be. Don't let him scare you.'
Was that it? Was she scared of the inevitable conversation, or of the feelings she feared might resurface? She didn't know, but she had to see his face again, to double check that it was indeed him.
'Of course it is! Who else do you know with such beautiful brown eyes, such strong cheekbones, and those short, sexy.spikes?' The woman covered hand to mouth, surprised with the direction her thoughts were wandering. '*Whoa* there, Kim. You can't lose yourself in his looks *now*. You haven't even *seen* the guy in over five years!' She stifled a giggle. 'His hair *does* look pretty good in spikes, though. Still enough to grab, I'm sure.No! Don't go there. It's not going to happen. If anything is to happen, we'll only become friends. You already hurt him once. How do you know he still trusts you? It's not like you've exactly given him reason to.'
Kimberly bit her lower lip, and leaned forward once more. She could just barely see the tip of his nose sticking out beyond all the rest. Leaning back in her seat again, all sounds were drowned out as she continued her thoughts about their past, her faults, and their current standings. He seemed happy enough to see her, but would it be enough to forgive her once she cleared the air of what happened way back when? She only hoped they could become friends, as they never really were. They practically jumped from being acquaintances to being a couple. She didn't even know if she *could* just be friends with Tommy Oliver, the man who had her practically drooling on first gaze.
'I'll have to try,' she told herself. 'We need the closure, no matter what my feelings might still be for him. Daydreaming will have to remain just that. Friendship is the highest goal I can establish with him. for right now, anyway.' She sighed, and picked up on the lecture Mr. Cross was now heavily into, despite the subject matter being rather minor. Smirking at the instructor's fascination with speed bumps, the petite woman reclined in her seat and enjoyed as much as she could of her "punishment."
A/N: Alright. I wasn't planning on making this a continuation, but then I thought that I *would,* basing the continuation on the reviews I get for this part. If I don't get at least three within 48 hours of it's posting, I will remove it. I figure with three reviews, I'll continue if 2 out of 3 liked/enjoyed/saw potential in it. If this is the case, I'll try to have the rest out in a week. I'd rather not have it be more than five chapters (the default chapter, 1st break, lunch hour, 2nd break, and then the release). Anyway, if you'd like to see what happens, please review!! It's totally up to you to let me know if I'm either completely wasting your time, or giving you something to look forward to. Whatever the case, you've got to let me know. I *hope* I've done an okay job so far. only reviews will tell. Otherwise, take care, and thanks for reading!
A/N: I had actually begun this story earlier but soon after discarded it. While I was writing notes for the story I'm currently working on, I found the notes for this one, and decided to try again. I guess this is what happens when you sit in traffic school for eight hours. you write about it, while at the same time incorporating your favorite characters into it. So yeah, here is my story. Every event here is based on personal experience. Mind you, it was my first (and hopefully ONLY) session of traffic school, but quite an unforgettable event, to be honest. The rest is pure fiction (concerning the events betwixt the characters, location titles and what not). As usual, reviews are highly appreciated. Happy reading!
#2: Just to let those who are interested in knowing: this was not the story I was originally planning on posting next. That story is under heavy construction. I want that story to be as good as it can be, so I'm taking my dear sweet time.
Timeline: Let's say it takes place during the current year (2003). Ages range around 23 or 24.something like that.
TRAFFIC SCHOOL
(Saturday, November 1, 7:21 a.m.)
'I hate that stupid cop,' she consciously admitted to herself as she walked down the back path leading to the courtroom. 'He just HAPPENED to be there when I ran the red light, but where is he the rest of the time? Probably off eating donuts somewhere. I used to be a friggin' POWER RANGER, for Bob's sake! But do I get off with a warning? Noooo-' she was jolted out of thought as she walked right into a bulky individual standing with his back facing her.
The giant man turned around, broad-shouldered and at least two feet taller than she stood. His face was plain and irritated, and he stared down at the brunette with beady black eyes. "Can I help you with something, miss?" he grunted.
Stepping back a bit, she tugged down at her body-hugging, long- sleeved black turtleneck in attempt to cover her midriff. Her eyes looked straight ahead at the man's chest, focusing on a well shined golden star pinned to the pocket of the green uniform shirt. Underneath, her eyes spotted a gold nametag labeled with black lettering. Gulping nervously, she held out the stapled packet of papers in her thin, shaky fingers. "Um, actually, Deputy Cleary, I, um, I don't really know where I'm supposed to go-"
"Your designated class room is courtroom number three," he said with one glance at the top sheet. "Down the stairs and to your left." He pointed a fat finger past some tinted glass double doors that led to the inside of the building. "Make sure to have your driver's license ready, and watch where you're walking."
"Thanks," the petite woman said with embarrassment, following the direction of the stubby limb. Once inside, she proceeded to mimic the officer as her feet descended the stairs. ".and watch where you're walking, blah blah blah." Shaking her head and rolling her cinnamon eyes, she found herself forced to stand at the back of a long line of fellow traffic violators, waiting somewhat impatiently to be directed into the class room.
Her dark blue flare jeans tightly hugged her lower half as she leaned all of her weight onto one leg and let the other rest with a posed attitude. A short strand of mahogany hair fell into her eyes, and she blew it away, crossing her arms at her chest as she did so. The silky tendrils were tied in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, bundles of lazy curls entwining themselves, and she flipped them off of her shoulder with one turn of her head.
As she neared the man checking the court papers at the front of the line, she retrieved her license from her back pocket, having left her small shoulder purse in her car. Handing over her papers when it was her turn, she picked at a white piece of fuzz on the hem of her turtleneck.
"Good morning, ma'am. What city were you ticketed in?" The man who spoke had a short layer of aging hair and greenish blue eyes. His nose was long with a rounded point, and his cheekbones were set low and wide. He wasn't in the best shape, with somewhat of a belly and chubby cheeks, and he stood no more than three inches taller than her.
"Angel Grove." She watched him scribble a large letter "S" in red permanent ink on the second sheet of the packet, and received the papers and license, as well as three green information cards.
"Now, just go ahead and grab a booklet and clipboard inside, and take a seat wherever you can find one. You can fill out these information cards while you wait." He smiled and continued helping the last three customers.
Walking inside of the courtroom, the erstwhile music major did as she was told and picked up a clipboard from the cardboard box that supplied them on the floor, and then grabbed a booklet from the stack that lay just beside it. Standing straight and looking around, she was rather surprised at the simplicity of the courtroom's size. There were three sections of seats that faced the judge's stand, with five rows of six seats in each section. Choosing an aisle seat in the middle row of the middle section, she snuggled into the plaid cushion of the seat, which offered more comfort than appeal. Once settled, she took a moment to glance at the people around her.
Everyone seemed to be writing on their green cards, so she followed suit. Uncapping her blue ballpoint pen, she filled in her full name, the date, and all of the other requirements that she was able. Not more than a minute later did the instructor announce his arrival.
He was none other than the man she had seen outside, and he introduced himself as Mitch Cross. "Okay!" he said in an overly friendly voice, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Let me start the day off with asking how many of you wanted to come here today?"
The petite woman looked around the room, eyebrows raised at finding a hand in the air. It belonged to a teenager of about 17 or 18, five years younger than she. She rolled her cinnamon eyes and turned her focus back to Mr. Cross as he spoke in response.
"Alright, we've got one happy gentleman! But I know what the rest of you are thinking: 'Why on Earth would I want to get up at O'Dark-thirty in the morning to sit in traffic school for 8 hours?' The answer is simple, my friends. So you can earn your certificates!" As he lifted his fists into the air with exaggerated excitement, a tall dark haired woman of about 20 years was passing blank certificates down the aisles. "Jennifer will be my aide today, and right now she's passing out the one thing you need to confirm your completion of this course. When you get one, please, DO NOT write on it until I give you permission."
'This guy's got WAY too much energy, even for me,' she thought. It was amusing to watch the man bounce with every step he took about the room, greeting those who sat in the front rows with a wide smile and off-white teeth. His voice projected loudly to every corner of the room, and he seemed to have the attitude of a comedian when it came to mimicking the thoughts of the 'students' by changing the tone of his voice and using exaggerated facial expressions. 'At least it won't be too boring.'
After Mitch had explained what to fill out on all three of the green cards (which just repeated themselves) and the certificates, he picked on the person sitting in the seat next to the wall in the front row of the left section. "Sir, could you please tell me your first name and the reason you were ticketed?" The man replied, and Mitch went around the room, creating columns on a white board and adding a tally mark underneath for each person who committed a specified 'crime.' So far, the most popular law that was broken seemed to be speeding. The man at Kimberly's right (in the right section, aisle seat of the middle row) announced his name and reason. A new column was created, and a tally mark was placed under "Rolling Stop at a Stop Sign."
Before Mitch even had a chance to turn around, the long since retired pink ranger spoke without effort or enthusiasm. "Kimberly. I ran a red light."
Mitch looked at her and smiled in such a way that Kim felt a bit uneasy. It was the kind of smile that was overly friendly, even for the once bouncy and energetic gymnast. His hands were clasped together under his chin, and he continued to just smile and stare until Kim shifted in her seat.
"Well, I can tell you're excited to be here." Kim opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted. "Don't worry. I'm just teasing. But you answered so quickly. are you sure there isn't something ELSE you did?"
'What, is he trying to put me in the hot seat?' Kim chuckled. "Um, no, I'm pretty sure that's it."
Mitch unclasped his hands and added a tally to the "Red Light" column. "So, Kimberly's a red light runner." Without another word to her, he continued down the row. Ten speeders, an illegal U-turn, and a few other red light runners later, Kim was about ready to fall asleep.
'How much longer is this going to take?' she wondered. Crossing her legs, she slunk into the back of her chair and yawned.
Mitch called for the next person to state his crime. "And you, sir, what brings you here today?"
The man spoke loud and clear, apparently intending for a particular someone to hear him, for she had spoken first and he was certainly surprised that she would be here. "The cop wrote me up for having a tail light out, but I was speeding when he pulled me over."
It was then that Kim's ears perked up and her eyes opened. His voice was intensely familiar, and yet she could not bring herself to believe it. 'It's not completely impossible, though,' she argued. 'But still, it would be too big a coincidence.' Kimberly sat back up in her seat and slowly leaned forward, one inch at a time.
Mitch gave an interested face. "Really," he stated rather than asked. "Well, I can't actually say that you got lucky, because you still got the ticket." Turning around to the whiteboard behind him, he added a tally under the new category of "Broken Tail Light."
Leaning forward just enough to see down the row of the left section, Kim's eyebrows frowned as she could not find the face to match the name that floated in the front of her mind. 'Where is he?' she asked herself, trying to be as subtle as possible in spotting him.
Mitch faced his students again and said to the man, "Thank you, err. I'm sorry. What is your name?"
"Tommy." The man said. "My name is Tommy."
Kim's eyes widened. "I *knew* it," she accidentally whispered out loud. The woman in front of her turned around and gave the brunette a curious look, but Kim just waved her off with a smile. Leaning forward once more, she felt a shiver down her spine as her cinnamon eyes met a pair of familiar, deep mahogany eyes she knew all too well from so long ago. She jolted back in her seat, eyelids still wide and blinking. 'It IS him! He just *happened* to get traffic school on the same day as I did! This ought to be a little awkward.' Kim didn't know what to think. Within the hour, the students would be let out for a 15 minute break. It would be good to see him and catch up, but then she would be questioned on why she hadn't contacted anyone since Muranthias, and why she moved back without telling anyone. Well, she didn't technically move back, considering she was living in Stone Canyon now, but that was beside the point.
He was here. He had seen her. And he smiled.
He flashed her that gorgeous smile that only he could. It haunted so many of her dreams those first few months in Florida, and it was that smile that she had turned to a frown when she broke his heart in the lowest way possible. She never did forgive herself for such behavior. It was immature and inconsiderate, unfair and cowardly. but it would have been harder on the both of them if she had spoken to him personally.
Gulping, Kim relaxed her shoulders and shut her eyes. 'Calm down, Kim,' she coaxed herself. 'Be the mature adult you're supposed to be. Don't let him scare you.'
Was that it? Was she scared of the inevitable conversation, or of the feelings she feared might resurface? She didn't know, but she had to see his face again, to double check that it was indeed him.
'Of course it is! Who else do you know with such beautiful brown eyes, such strong cheekbones, and those short, sexy.spikes?' The woman covered hand to mouth, surprised with the direction her thoughts were wandering. '*Whoa* there, Kim. You can't lose yourself in his looks *now*. You haven't even *seen* the guy in over five years!' She stifled a giggle. 'His hair *does* look pretty good in spikes, though. Still enough to grab, I'm sure.No! Don't go there. It's not going to happen. If anything is to happen, we'll only become friends. You already hurt him once. How do you know he still trusts you? It's not like you've exactly given him reason to.'
Kimberly bit her lower lip, and leaned forward once more. She could just barely see the tip of his nose sticking out beyond all the rest. Leaning back in her seat again, all sounds were drowned out as she continued her thoughts about their past, her faults, and their current standings. He seemed happy enough to see her, but would it be enough to forgive her once she cleared the air of what happened way back when? She only hoped they could become friends, as they never really were. They practically jumped from being acquaintances to being a couple. She didn't even know if she *could* just be friends with Tommy Oliver, the man who had her practically drooling on first gaze.
'I'll have to try,' she told herself. 'We need the closure, no matter what my feelings might still be for him. Daydreaming will have to remain just that. Friendship is the highest goal I can establish with him. for right now, anyway.' She sighed, and picked up on the lecture Mr. Cross was now heavily into, despite the subject matter being rather minor. Smirking at the instructor's fascination with speed bumps, the petite woman reclined in her seat and enjoyed as much as she could of her "punishment."
A/N: Alright. I wasn't planning on making this a continuation, but then I thought that I *would,* basing the continuation on the reviews I get for this part. If I don't get at least three within 48 hours of it's posting, I will remove it. I figure with three reviews, I'll continue if 2 out of 3 liked/enjoyed/saw potential in it. If this is the case, I'll try to have the rest out in a week. I'd rather not have it be more than five chapters (the default chapter, 1st break, lunch hour, 2nd break, and then the release). Anyway, if you'd like to see what happens, please review!! It's totally up to you to let me know if I'm either completely wasting your time, or giving you something to look forward to. Whatever the case, you've got to let me know. I *hope* I've done an okay job so far. only reviews will tell. Otherwise, take care, and thanks for reading!