Page 4 of Keeping It Professional

“Then stop scratching, would you? Unless you have fleas.”

I bit my tongue on a salty response. Miles had been testing my good mood all day, stepping on my enthusiasm every chance he got. But I knew if I goaded him, he’d only get worse. If I wanted him off my back, I’d need to prove myself, and to do that, I’d need a call.

“Rush hour soon,” I said.

Miles grunted,huh.

Outside, the cars swept by, churning up slush. We were posted at a rest stop above a main road, ready to deploy at a moment’s notice. It felt ghoulish hoping that notice came soon, as it would mean someone was hurt, or worse. But the atmosphere in the ambulance was growing fraught, the cloud over Miles’s head about to spit lightning. And now he’d picked on my fidgeting, I couldn’t sit still. My fingers kept twitching, trying to go for my wrist. I tapped my foot to distract myself. Miles clicked his tongue.

He's as anxious as you are,I reminded myself.It’s his first day too, with a new partner. He’s probably worried you’ll be some freak. Once he sees you’re not?—

Our radio went off so loud I yelped. Miles waved me to silence and leaned in to hear. I held my breath as the details came crackling through: a single-car accident three blocks away, the driver injured.

“Follow my lead,” said Miles. He blipped the siren. Traffic slowed, and he swung us onto the road. “I can see you’re nervous, so hang back if you need to. If you’re dizzy, sit down.”

I wanted to snap at him, I was fine. I was great. This was what I’d trained for, right here, this moment. But thiswaswhat I’d trained for. Right here. This moment. I’d poured all I had into this, my dream job, and what if itwastoo much? If I couldn’t hack it? If I panicked or puked or forgot all my training, and stood frozen stiff as a deer in the headlights? I was sweating, heart pounding, excited and scared, and I half couldn’t wait, half wanted to hide.

“Breathe,” said Miles.

I bristled. “Iam.” But I hadn’t been, and the words burst out hard. They came out fast and loud like a cork from a bottle. I whooped a deep breath, and Miles gripped the wheel. His upper lip curled, but not at me.

“Oh, great.” He scowled. “Can you control them, at least?”

I peered up the street and saw what he meant. Just ahead, a small car had plowed into a food stand, scattering churros in a sugary spray. A knot of bystanders had crowded in on the driver, eight or nine people trying to help her at once.

“That’s not good,” I said. “Okay, I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure?”

I breathed deep. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I’d been on live calls before as part of my training, and this was no different, except… no trainer. Whatever I did here was on me. No one else.

Miles pulled up on the scene and I jumped out first, and a few of the bystanders broke off to accost me.

“She’s over here!”

“I think she broke her arm. She says she can bend it, but it could still be cracked, right?”

“We saw her skid! She just lost control. We were standing in line, and if Hank hadn’t grabbed me?—”

“Okay!” I held up my hands for attention. “I need everyone over here who saw what happened— No, not in the road. Overhere, by the awning.” I pointed, then moved in to herd them along, edging myself between them and the driver. One man grabbed my arm.

“She hit her head. I saw it bounce off the wheel.”

I glanced at the driver, all powdered with airbag dust. She didn’t look like she’d hit her head: no bruising, no blood, just minor redness. Miles was already striding toward her, trusting me to do my part and handle the crowd. “Okay, sir,” I said. “Come wait over here.”

“She could have a concussion.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll check.” I steered him out of the way. “The police will be coming, and they’ll want your statement. Till then, could you help me keep the scene clear?”

The man puffed up, proud to have something to do. One woman had her phone out, recording Miles. She caught me looking and glared at me.

“I have a right to be here.”

I smiled at her blandly. “That’s fine. Stay right there. No,behindthe café sign.”

She pointed her phone at me, but I turned away. Miles was shielding the driver from the curious crowd, standing in front of her as he checked her eyes.

“Now, how many fingers— No, look at me. Don’t worry about those guys. Focus up here.”

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