Winning My Ex-Crush

Fenella’s POV

I felt like I was suddenly hit by a panic attack. Sweat dripped down my temples, and my head suddenly started to ache. This was the first time I had been in a car crash. It felt similar to riding a roller coaster, but without the joy. There were no loud laughs and no desire to do it again. Only fear and anxiety.

The police car drew closer, with the sirens blaring louder. Alan had already gotten out of the car and seemed to be checking the damage. He looked at the side of the car that was hit, then inspected the iron fence. He also slowly walked towards the traffic light that was grazed.

I looked around, and it seemed like there were no casualties at all. Really? Yes, it felt like I didn’t hit any humans or animals.

After calming down, I turned my body and noticed Alan walking back to the car. Two police officers approached Alan behind the car. Initially, I hesitated about whether to get out of the car or not, but I remembered Alan warning me not to get out of the car.

Then what? Would he sacrifice himself for me?

“How are you, sir?” The police officer’s voice sounded heavy.

“Hello, gentlemen. Good evening to you,” Alan said in a friendly tone.

“Is this your car?” the second police officer asked.

“Technically, no. This is my office car. I just brought it for a test drive. My staff just bought it for me, so I wanted to test its durability right away,” Alan explained at length with a slight chuckle.

Oh my, he really sounded drunk.

“Alright. Please show me your driver’s license,” the officer requested.

“Driver’s license? Oh, yes, I have it in my wallet in the car,” Alan said. “Can I go to the car to get it, sir?”

“Yes, of course,” the police officer said, accompanying Alan as he walked back to the car.

Alan peeked his head at me from the window.

“Are you okay?” I whispered to him. He then whispered in my ear for a moment.

“Fenella, stay quiet and don’t get out. Okay? Close the window,” Alan whispered to me as his hand searched inside the dashboard drawer.

Seeing the empty dashboard drawer, he then slapped his forehead.

“Oh, the wallet is here,” Alan said, then stood up and now seemed to be covering my window.

I followed his instructions and rolled up my window. However, I didn’t close it completely. I left a slight gap open so I could hear their voices outside.

Alan took out a small wallet from his pants pocket. Then he handed his driver’s license to the police for inspection. I waited with my heart still racing.

“Alright, Mr. Schmidt. It seems you were driving under the influence. Do you remember how many drinks you had before driving here?” the police officer asked.

Alan shook his head.

“Maybe a martini. Oh, no, not a full glass. But I definitely had two glasses of champagne earlier while in the car,” Alan blurted out carelessly.

“Did you drive while drinking champagne?” the officer asked again.

“Oh, no,” Alan mumbled for a moment. “I drank near the park. I stopped by the park because I couldn’t drive while drinking champagne, right?” Alan chuckled again, seeming to realize his mistake.

The police remained silent, as if pondering something. They seemed suspicious, but they continued their procedures.

“Alright. I want you to take a test. Please walk in a straight line towards our car. Can you do that?” The officer said it impatiently.

“Walking in a straight line? Do you mean like a model? I will definitely pass that test because I am the owner of the best model agency in New York. I taught them all how to walk on the runway stage,” Alan rambled on, but eventually, the police officers stopped him.

“Alright, Sir. Walk in a straight line now,” the impatient police officer said.

Alan seemed ready. He tried to walk along an imaginary line but remained unsteady due to the alcohol influencing his brain.

“Is this enough?” Alan walked up to the police car and stopped.

“Yes, you clearly can’t walk straight,” the police officer noted in his pocketbook.

“Who says? I can!” Alan protested with a furrowed brow, then staggered back towards our car.

“Can you see my finger? Look at my finger and follow its movement,” the officer said, then waved his finger in front of Alan’s face.

Somehow, it seemed the police were satisfied with their test results. Another police officer then pulled out a device resembling a breathalyzer. I suspected it was an alcohol level detector.

“Mr. Schmidt, please blow into this tube for a few seconds,” the other officer instructed Alan.

Alan complied and immediately sucked on the short straw of the device.

“Not sucked, but blown. Like blowing up a balloon,” the officer told him.

“Blowing up a balloon? I’ve never blown up a balloon. I’m better at blowing other things, if you know what I mean,” Alan chuckled again, but the police officer just shook his head.

“Blow into this tube now,” the increasingly impatient officer demanded of Alan.

“Okay, chill,” Alan said, then blew into the straw.

Just a few seconds later, the device beeped rapidly. The police checked the result and showed it to their colleague.

“You exceeded the alcohol tolerance limit for driving, sir. You can come with us in the car now. Is there anyone else in your car?” the police asked Alan.

“Just a friend. Maybe later it will be more if she wants,” Alan chuckled again.

I was startled when they mentioned me. I was sure Alan was drunk and unaware of his words, but I didn’t expect him to think of me like that. I immediately remembered Jessy’s words that Alan might be bisexual, but getting into a relationship with Alan never crossed my mind.

The police knocked on my car window. I quickly rolled down the window and cleared my throat.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Are you Mr. Schmidt’s friend?” the officer asked me.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice trembling.

Damn! It seemed the panic still had a grip on my body. I trembled in my seat and unconsciously nodded excessively. I swallowed saliva as I waited for the police to observe me and my outfit.

“Can you step out of the car? Do you have your identification card with you?” the officer asked me.

I nodded again.

“Don’t get out! Don’t get out of the car, Fenella!” Alan suddenly shouted.

“Calm down, sir. We just want to check for a moment.” Another officer held Alan’s hands behind his back.