June 1989
Mickey's POV

School just got out, and this is always an awkward time for Jump Street officers. We all have to merge back in with the Metro Police Department, and the first week or so after school is out for the summer, we are put on the jobs that no one wants. We get stationed in parks, become Meter Maids, and even sent up to Headquarters for boring paper jobs. We are treated like rookies until they can find a permanent place for us. Every year, I'm put to work on Vice for the summer.

This also was the first day since December where Booker didn't have to get me a hot morning drink to apologize for his sexist joke. I think it became a sort of his daily routine because he has yet to miss a day. Of course I wasn't going to remind him that the deadline was for 'till summer and I hope he doesn't remember.

I reported to Metro Police Department where I met my team. We were all in our uniforms, ready to take on our first shift. Captain Briody pulled us all aside and said that he was not expecting so many officers to report back for the summer, so Judy offered to go up to Headquarters and spend the next week over there until she got her permanent summer post. She left, and Briody decided to let me, Tom, and Doug patrol the park. Ioki and Booker were lucky enough to be Meter Maids for the time being.

Patrolling the park is one of the most boring posts ever. We all looked at each other with eye rolls and shuffled out to the cruiser. I called shot gun, and Doug took the wheel, which made Tom sit in the back. We were all wearing our summer uniforms of a light blue short sleeve shirt with the Metro PD logo on it and a badge on our chest. I don't like these as much as our black long sleeve uniforms, but the weather permitted that we wear these.

We arrived at the park and got out of the car and started walking around. Fuller hates the summertime because he is afraid that we might get recognized as cops when we return back to school in the fall. I eased my own anxiety by getting a pair of big sunglasses so no one can see my face that clearly. I've been rocking them ever since the weatherman started getting excited about the sun.

Patrolling the park is a joke. Almost nothing happens over here, and we usually end up goofing around most of the time. I was put on park duty last summer with Ioki and we played checkers the entire week. Tom, Doug, and I walked alongside each other, trying to find something to do.

"You guys pass your firearms qualifications test?" I asked. The test happens every year in June, and we need to pass in order to carry our guns. If we fail, we have to wait two weeks before we can retest.

"Best two out of three," Doug joked. "You?"

"Hit right between the eyes every time," I told them. "Tom?"

"Flying colors." He grinned softly. "I don't think any of us have failed it yet."

Doug was suspiciously silent so I decided to rat him out. "Doug did."

"Mick!" Doug snapped. "Shush!"

"What?" Tom laughed.

"Look, it was my first year and I was really nervous. Okay?" Doug stated.

"You've got a great shot now!" I exclaimed to make him feel better. "Not everyone is great at first."

"You were," he mumbled.

"That was different, I was raised by a redneck who made me grow up shooting his empty beer cans off the back porch railing," I stated, barely letting the guys get a taste of my lore.

"Your dad made you do that?" Doug's eyes widened.

I nodded. "Yeah."

The guys don't really know much about my family situation, and even though they're very close to me, they don't need to be trauma-dumped. The reason why my dad made me shoot the cans was to train me in case he got caught up with some methheads who would be after us. He told me for years that it was my job to protect us from the methheads that were going to kill us in the middle of the night.

He'd go into great detail too, like saying that they'd come slash our throats while we slept or something. It really freaked me out, so I'd be up all night all the time just because I was scared that someone was going to come kill us. I thought that if I slept, we would all die. After about three years, that's when I was taken from him and put into foster care. My third grade teacher had called Child Protective Services because I was sleeping in class, and acting pretty paranoid. An investigation was conducted, and I was whisked out of there right away and my father was arrested for child endangerment and drug charges. I think it messed me up a little bit.

"How old were you?" Doug asked.

I had to think for a second. "Five... I think?"

"You were five?" Tom asked sympathetically. I was almost distracted by the way the sunlight plays in his beautiful hair.

"Yeah," I said softly.

"What about your brother?" Tom asked.

"I remember he was pissed at first, yelling at Dad about it since it was obviously super dangerous but my dad didn't really care. Then it kinda just because a thing... I don't really know if my dad ever made him do stuff like that too."

"Damn, Mick." Doug shook his head.

I shrugged, trying to act like it was not a big deal but I would be lying if I didn't say that it really messed me up for a very long time. "It gave me a perfect shot though."

Tom chuckled and countered with, "sure but at what cost?"

I laughed and said, "my mental health."

As we walked, Doug stopped and pointed to the lake. I noticed a group of people facing out toward the water with concern brushed across their faces. I was ready for an out for this conversation, and I think we found it.

I said, "let's go see what the hub-bub is over there."

"Yeah," Doug agreed.

We all sauntered to the group and Doug asked, "how's it going, guys?"

"I'm so glad you're here. Our frisbee flew over my head and landed in the water," one of the guys said and pointed towards the white frisbee that floated in the water. They all looked like they could be in college, wearing colorful collared shirts and patterned shorts.

"That's a pickle," Tom agreed with his arms crossed over his chest. He nudged Doug with his elbow and said, "you—go get it."

"Why me?" Doug asked.

"Nose-goes," Tom blurted and put his finger on the tip of his nose. I quickly did the same, and Doug was too late in the game.

"Is this even a police matter?" He asked, still trying to talk his way out of it.

"Do you have anything else better to do?" I asked and put my hands on my hips.

Doug grunted, "fine," and took off his belt and handed it to me. He wadded out to the lake until the water reached his stomach to grab the frisbee. He waddled back out and exclaimed how cold the water is.

"It's about time, man," one of the other college kids said.

Doug looked at them deadpan and said, "you know what? Get your own fucking frisbee," and threw it as far as he could into the lake.

"Come on, man," one of the college students sighed in disappointment.

Tom, and I walked away toward a nearby picnic table and Doug followed behind us. I sat on the table with my feet planted on the bench and looked up at the bright sun and asked, "is this really a valuable use of man-power? Three experienced cops in Metro Park?"

"I like to think of it as a paid-vacation," Doug said and sat down and started pulling something out of his shirt. "Everyone knows that park duty is a complete joke."

"Whatcha got there?" I asked him.

He pulled out a sandwich and placed it on the table. He carefully unwrapped the Saran Wrap that covered it and pressed the bread down so it mushed together better. He looked at the sandwich then back up at me and said, "a sandwich."

"You brought lunch?" Tom asked as Doug took a bite.

"Yes," he mumbled with a mouthful. "Wish I had me a pĩna colada to kick off the summer."

"I'll go with you to get some after work," Tom said. "I heard that tiki bar that just opened downtown is pretty good."

"You know, when I was in high school I had like ten pĩna colada's a day when I was on vacation with my cousins. Best summer ever," Doug said as he took another bite of his sandwich.

Tom chuckled and said, "I bet. Were you just hammered the whole time?"

Doug looked at Tom with a confused expression on his face. "What? No. I said I had pĩna colada's."

"Yeah, I heard you." Tom chuckled.

"You know, the slushy with the coconut and the pineapple juice."

"And rum," Tom added.

Doug snapped his head toward him and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. In a high pitched voice, he asked, "what?"

"Yeah, man. It's made with rum," Tom said.

"Are you serious?" Doug asked.

"Yeah. Like, a lot of it."

"I didn't know that," Doug said with a small voice of realization.

"That is common sense, I fear," I quipped. Even I knew that, and I don't drink alcohol.

"Oh," Doug breathed out. He pondered for a moment and took another bite of his sandwich. Through his mouth full of food, Doug mumbled while pointing to a random tree and said, "over there, somewhere under that tree is a hole with my poop in it."

"That's disgusting," Tom said loudly.

"What? I was in high school and I had to go. I covered it up with dirt," Doug said defensively.

"That's the kind of thing you should keep to yourself," I stated.

I ran my fingers through my hair to fluff it out but when I turned my head I noticed a kid standing by the lake. He was cocking his arm and then extending it toward the water, and I realized that he was throwing bread. He was standing right beside a sign that explicitly said not to feed the ducks.

"Hey, guys," I nodded toward the kid and Tom and Doug's heads snapped in his direction, "check it out."

"Not in my park. Let's go," Tom said and began walking toward the kid with a confident swagger I've never seen before. I laughed, I love it when Tom is goofy.

Doug took one more bite and set his sandwich back down on the table and we caught up with Tom. We got to the kid and Tom put on his sunglasses. Tom whistled to get his attention, then he pointed at the sign, "hey, kid. Can you read? It says do not feed the ducks."

The kid smirked at us and extended his arm out, and he was holding bread in his hand.

"Don't do it," I said.

"Don't you do it, son," Tom warned.

The kid pushed the bread out of his fingers, and Tom sighed and said defeatedly, "you did it. You fed the ducks."

Doug stared deadpan at the kid before grabbing a rock by his feet and chucked it at the boy, point blank range. The kid flinched and ran off.

"Doug!" I exclaimed.

"What?" He asked.

"You can't throw rocks at the children," I scolded, "no matter how much you may want to."

"Yeah, well, it felt good," he said and started strolling back to the picnic table we were at earlier.

I sighed and walked next to Tom back to the table. His pinky brushed against my hand ever so gently, I questioned myself if I had felt it at all. Suddenly, my blood rushed to my face involuntarily, and my lips fought hard to not smile. But, it was in that moment when his fingers laced with mine, never to break for anything. 

I was confused when I saw Doug wave his arms and yell, "hey!"

That caught mine and Tom's attention. We ran over to see what was happening, and he was chasing a chicken off the table after it had been pecking at his sandwich.

Doug took out his gun and pointed it at the chicken and tried to run around it, "I'm going to make myself a chicken sandwich!"

I was going to say something, but then I stopped myself. I was just going to let it happen. I knew he was not going to let the gun go off, because Doug hates filling out the paperwork and the mandatory visit to the shrink.

"I'm also gonna throw a little temper tantrum," Doug huffed when the chicken got away.

I almost forgot how much that patrolling the park is mostly fooling around. No one takes it seriously, because nothing ever happens here. It's one of the only times I've seen Tom be goofy while at work.

As our shift was coming to an end, I had to go back to the cruiser to grab my jacket. When I came back, I saw Tom and Doug facing each other, flipping their guns in the air and catching them.

"Is yours loaded?" Tom asked Doug as he flicked his wrist and caught the handle of his gun.

Doug unloaded it and said, "not anymore."

"You're supposed to unload it before you start flipping it around," Tom said casually, flicking his into the air again and catching it.

"Children. I'm surrounded by children," I said, but sat at the nearby table to watch their foolish behavior. An entire week with these goofy guys at the park reminded me why I love them so much.

I wrote this chapter for the sole purpose of using these gifs 😂 next one is about summer school!!
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