Beware of Boys by Kelli London

her eyes slowly. “I told you, he was working. He was taking me to work.”
    The policewoman shook her head. “Who was working? You or him? First you said he was working, then you said you were working. And the only people he’s allowed to drive for are the people he works for—that’s the only vehicle he’s allowed to drive under court order.” The woman looked her up and down. “And you’re too puny to be a boxer or a trainer. What are you, fifteen?”
    Charly shook her head. They kept going over the same thing, and again and again the woman couldn’t put two forms of work together. “Miss, like I told you a thousand times, if you’d go look at my phone, which I gave to the other officer before you got here, it’ll prove who I am. And my identification is in my purse in the truck. I already told him, and he had no problem with my statement. Why do you?”
    The officer crossed her arms. “Well, that’s him, and this is me.” She pointed to her chest. “And now that I’m here, you’re under my authority. A male cop should always call a female cop to the scene if there’s a female minor involved. He can’t frisk you the way I can.”
    Charly jumped up from the curb. “Who are you going to frisk? You can’t frisk me. I’m a minor, and I’m not under arrest. What law did I break? Riding in a car that the court has given him permission to drive?” Charly turned and surveyed the small crowd that had begun to gather. “Help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help! I’m being threatened by this cop. Call the news. I’m Charly from The Extreme Dream Team . Somebody help and make sure you tape this! I’ll give a reward. Please!” she screamed as if she were in pain.
    The officer reared back her head, flaring her nostrils. Then looked around. Paranoia was all over her face, and she threw up her hands in the air as if she were surrendering. “I didn’t touch her!” she yelled to a male officer headed their way. From his badge and other decorations, he looked like he was her superior.
    â€œBetty! What are you doing?” he spat.
    Charly had hit a nerve. “Officer, please help me!” Charly pushed. “All we were doing is trying to get to this event for girls. An event I was hired to help with. I gave my phone to the other cop, showed him the news article—the officer who’s over there with Whip. Please read it and please keep this lady away from me and my driver. She said she was going to lock us both up!” Charly looked at Betty. “And for what? Helping little girls?” She shook her head. “Bad press. Really bad press. I’m sure the news stations out here would love to get this story.”
    â€œLet her go, Betty. She’s telling the truth. I read it for myself, and they both checked out. Whip was just doing his job. This time.”

8
    T he ride to the event was quiet, and Whip drove slowly. He turned the corner, and barely drove a mile before they finally stopped. With shaking hands, Charly opened her door and breathed deeply. She had to gather herself before she threw herself into what was the rest of her day.
    â€œOver there,” Whip said, pointing. He clearly had no intention of getting out and helping her. “And thanks . . . you know, for back there. If you hadn’t’ve pushed, I’d be in jail this time, not juvie.”
    â€œNo, if I hadn’t pushed you to drive me . . .” Charly nodded, then looked in the direction of the event. “So, that’s it?” she asked. How was she supposed to know where “over there” was. He’d pointed and retracted his hand so quickly, she didn’t see.
    â€œGotcha.” He hopped out of the SUV, then quickly made his way to her door, opening it. “You did get me off by calling me your driver. Maybe, after Lex cools off about this,