I stared at the computer screen, and read and re-read the email. I failed the test, the one Chief said I had to pass, the one Oscar helped me study for. That test. Failed. The words on the letter were, “Insufficient score to pass.”

Insufficient. Yep.

I bit my cheek on the inside, hard. Stay cool. It’s no big deal. I’ll figure it out.

I sat back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Our fire station gleamed like the trucks inside it. The light filtered though all the windows and bounced off the shining surfaces. I traced the fire pole with my eyes. I remembered the day my adopted father convinced me to use it for the first time.

I was so scared the first time I went down that pole, but I didn’t want to let him down. When I hit the floor, it jarred my bones inside my shoes. The boom thundered inside me, ringing in my ears, bouncing in my head. I looked up at him, searching for his reaction. He grinned at me, smiling from ear to ear. “See, you did it! I knew you could!”

I sat there with my memories, contemplating my fate. I remembered my dad’s face before I went down the pole. He was certain I could do it. I hadn’t been so sure.

When I stuck that landing and he cheered for my success, I’d decided to follow in his footsteps. It was his encouragement and confidence in me that led me to become fireman.

But now I’d failed basic continuing education.

But then I remembered Oscar’s confidence that I could pass these tests. Maybe I failed this time, but did that mean I could never pass them? It was either figure out how to study for and pass them, or change careers.

No. I am a fireman. I decided to be a fireman when I was fourteen, and I am still going to be a fireman at twenty eight. I’m a damn good fireman. And I won’t give up.

I learned forward, followed the links in the email, and re-registered for the test. The old me would have closed the email in disgust, and given up on that path. I would have told myself not advancing was fine. I would have claimed I didn’t want a promotion anyway.

But that was the old me. I didn’t think I could take care of a dog either, but now Tiger was my family. If I could do that, I could do this. Oscar could help me. We just needed to start sooner.

The chief walked through and stopped by my chair. “Did you get your test results back?”

I turned around in my seat and looked around the room. By some miracle he and I were the only ones there.

“Yeah, I didn’t pass. I’m sorry Chief.”

His face fell, and his lips pressed into a line.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. He scratched the top of his head.

“I registered to take it again,” I said. “I know I can pass it this time. I have someone, a friend, who knows how to prepare for tests. I will start sooner.”

The chief’s lips parted and for a moment he said nothing.

I grinned at him. “Did I leave you speechless?”

He closed his mouth and gave me a rueful smile. “I think you did!” He stood still, as if he was trying to think of what to say. “Keep me posted,” he finally said.

“Oh, another thing,” I said. “I think you know I kept the dog, right?”

He nodded, his lip quirking up in the corner. “I am aware.”

My heart pounded and I reconsidered my idea. What if the chief hated it? It’s bad enough I just failed my exam. But I plowed forward. “Tiger, my dog, is learning fast. We are teaching him tricks too. He loves it, it’s like I have to keep his mind busy.”

The chief chuckled. “Yes, work dogs are like that.”

“I was thinking, with my community involvement project, I could maybe teach Tiger to do some tricks to entertain while we did our fire safety visits.”

The chief furrowed his brows. “What kind of tricks?”

“I leaned back in my chair, warming up to my topic. “Like stop, drop and roll. Crawl along the ground. Things like that.”

The chief tilted his head back and to the side. “Hmm, maybe? Keep working with the dog and give me a demonstration when he’s ready.”

“Yes, sir,” I grinned.

“I have a more immediate request of you,” the chief said. He searched my eyes to check my reaction.

Oh no, what did he want? “Am I going to like this?” I wondered.

“I don’t know,” he said. “You know our annual dinner and auction?”

“I’m not going up for auction,” I said. Every year they wanted me to get up on that stage and prance around like a piece of meat for sale. I hated the whole thing, but I’m not in charge. They couldn’t make me do it though.

“I don’t want you go to up for auction,” the chief said.

“What then?”

“I want you to host,” he said.

“Don’t you do that? Isn’t that the rightful job of the chief?”

He laughed. “It’s the rightful job of the chief to delegate the job.”

I frowned.

He laughed. “Just think, keep up on your studies and you can become chief and delegate the job to someone else!”

I stared straight ahead and frowned to myself. Was there a way to get out of this?

“I’ll consider it your active action toward your community service and also hold back on recording your test score until you’ve passed.”

“Ah, so you are blackmailing me,” I laughed.

“Well you make it sound so sinister,” Chief said. “I’m merely motivating you. You are not only a damn fine fireman, you are an admired citizen, and would make a great host for our event.”

“An admired citizen?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Didn’t I just recover from a reprimand?”

“That was just red tape,” the chief waved his hand. “Everyone knows what you did and why you did it. Of course you should have waited for the ambulance, but no one is sad you didn’t.”

I hated bureaucracy. “Okay -- you know that doesn’t actually make sense, right?”

“I don’t have any more use for debating the merits of bureaucracy,” he said, waving his hand again and heading for his office.

“Noted,” I called after him.

He stopped in his tracks and without turning around said, “You know more school awaits as soon as you pass this test, right?”

I sighed. I figured that out already, which is probably why I’d resisted. But that was the old me. “Bring it,” I said. “I’m a fireman and I do what’s necessary.”

The chief turned around, and looked right into my eyes, his approval shining through. “Now you’re talking,” he said, and then turned and walked into his office.

I sat in my seat, swiveling it left and right. It squeaked with each motion, in a rhythm that matched my marching thoughts.

How was I going to get through all that school? I had no idea, but I only had to pass one test at a time.

I exited out of the computer and gathered up all my paperwork. Just then Thane came in and sat beside me.

“Hey Rhett, so you’re living in the guest house of the guy who bought the McFarland place?”

“Yep,” I said, tapping my papers together and straightening the file.

“Well, I work at the Bay Leaf. I saw you guys there twice in a row, and I’m wondering if you’re together?”

That’s a loaded question. And none of his fucking business. I scowled. “Why do you want to know?”

His cheeks reddened and he spread his palms out. “If you weren’t, I wanted to ask him out.”

Everything inside me went hot, and I swallowed to push my fury down. “He’s not available. Find someone else.”