Roommate's Virgin

By the time I arrived at the station, my mood was dark, and that was putting it lightly. But I had no choice but to make an attempt at co-operation. Any sign of defiance or attitude on my part could work against me. I had a swirling mass of energy floating around inside me, and I knew that if I had a canvas in front of me, and a paintbrush in my hand, I could have created something intense and brilliant. It sucked to know that my creative freedom had been stripped from me.

The fire station was chaos moving. Apparently, a team had just been dispatched to put out a fire in town, and the rest of the men were occupied with various other tasks. There was a certain rhythm to the station, despite the craziness that I was surrounded by. I tried to make eye contact with someone, but none of the men paid me the slightest bit of attention. I had to jump in front of one guy in order to get him to stop and talk to me.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked, eyeing me curiously.

“Uh… I’m here to volunteer,” I said.

“Volunteer?” he replied.

“Yeah… I need to check in first though,” I said, trying to avoid actually mentioning the community service part.

The guy looked me up and down and then he nodded. “Are you the drug dealer?” he asked bluntly.

I bristled at the word. Was that society would brand me as now? Somehow, I found that incredibly offensive. I was a person who had dealt drugs in order to support my passion for creating art, but that was not who I was. I was so much more than that.

“I’m here for my community service,” I replied shortly, realizing that the whole station probably knew I was coming anyway.

“Uh-huh,” the guy nodded. “Walk down from here and make a left. The chief’s office is the first door on your right.”

“Thanks,” I said.

The guy smirked. “Oh, don’t thank me just yet.”

Frowning at that not-so-veiled threat, I headed in the direction he had pointed out to me and found the chief’s office. I wondered if I was required to call him that or if I could get away with not addressing him at all. I knocked once, and a second later the door opened.

Chief Crosby was younger than I had expected. He was probably in his early to mid-fifties, bald and tattooed down the right arm. He had striking blue eyes and a sharp nose that made him look severe… even scary.

“Uh… I’m Devlin,” I said. “Devlin Danvers.”

The chief looked at the clock on his wall, saw that I was on time and nodded. “Sign here,” he said, without any formalities.

I signed where he told me too, and then he nodded. “If ever I’m not here, you can ask for Seth or Samuel. They will most likely have the book, and they will sign you in.”

“Got it,” I nodded.

“There’s work to be done all over this station,” Chief Crosby replied. “And not all of it is easy. See that you work hard and don’t give any of the boys reason to report you.”

I suppressed a sigh and nodded. “Ok.”

“You will address me as chief,” he replied curtly. “Or sir… whichever you prefer.”

I gritted my teeth together and nodded, trying not to show my annoyance on my face. “Yes, sir.”

“You can head to the vehicle maintenance bay.”

“Uh… where is that?”

“Ask one of the boys… one of them will direct you,” Chief Crosby replied.

I nodded. “Thank you, sir,” I said respectfully, as I backed out of his boxy office.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Chief Crosby said before I left.

“Yes… sir?”

“Don’t get in the way.”

With that parting warning, I shut the door and headed towards what I thought was the vehicle maintenance bay. I figured it was a safe bet to assume all the vehicles would be kept there. I had a little moment when I saw the fire trucks. It made me feel like the kid I had once been, the same kid who had dreamt of growing up to do something heroic.