"Derek, maybe we should grab coffee first," Rodriguez suggested as their patrol car cruised past the park. "It's been a long morning."
Sullivan's jaw tightened as he spotted Maya setting up her phone near the fountain. A Black teenager with a camera meant trouble in his mind. He'd seen too many viral videos lately showing police in a negative light. These kids thought they could film anything, post it online, and ruin careers.
"Look at this," he muttered, pulling the patrol car to the curb. "Another one of these wannabe journalists."
Rodriguez followed his gaze. She saw a well-dressed young woman with school materials spread neatly beside her. Maya wore her student ID on a lanyard and had arranged her notebook, permission letters, and questions in organized piles.
"She looks like a student doing homework," Rodriguez observed.
But Sullivan was already out of the car. He'd dealt with students before. They always claimed to be innocent until their footage went viral and officers lost their jobs. Not on his watch.
Maya looked up from her notes as the patrol car approached. Perfect timing. She stood up, smoothed her dress, and checked that her permission letter was clearly visible. Her mother had taught her to always be prepared, always be respectful, and always stand up for what's right.
"Good afternoon, officers," Maya called out with a genuine smile. "I'm Maya Johnson from Lincoln High. I'm working on a school project about community policing. Would you have a few minutes to answer some questions?"
Sullivan sized her up immediately. Confident, articulate, probably thought she was smarter than the officers. These types were the worst. They acted respectful, but were really looking for ammunition to use against police.
"Let me see some ID," Sullivan demanded, his tone already shifting toward aggressiveness.
Maya's smile wavered slightly, but she maintained her composure. "Of course, Officer. I have my student ID right here, and this is my official permission letter from Principal Williams."
She held out the documents with steady hands. Sullivan barely glanced at them.
"What's your real purpose here?" he asked, stepping closer. "Who sent you?"
The question caught Maya off-guard. "I'm sorry? My journalism teacher assigned this project. It's about building bridges between police and community members."
Rodriguez watched the interaction with growing unease. The girl seemed genuinely innocent, and her materials looked legitimate. She started to intervene, but Sullivan shot her a warning look.
"These school projects always end up on social media," Sullivan continued, his voice rising slightly. "You people think you can film us, edit it however you want, and make us look bad."